FermataTheBasse

Wordplay happened to look in Vinyl's direction just as she shot her a teasing look, and that was when she had died, officially. Okay, no. At this point Wordplay was exaggerating a bit. She had managed to get most of her more foalish instincts under control, she had gone from outright repressed fangirlism to repressed fangirlism within the facade of normalcy. She seemed a bit more stiff than should have been normal for anypony, but beyond that she managed to put on a small smile, talk politely, and not devolve into a sub-pony mess of a mare. She could even hold eye contact for a brief second before she had to look away with a quick blush. [colour=#800080]"And before anypony asks themselves why, if they ever get around to readin' it, I nearly got banned from that l'il party central...it's not MY fault the food fight spilled out into the streets that night, even if I did kinda sorta throw that cake at that one annoying pony. They all just kinda...Followed my misinterpreted lead a little, I guess - [/colour][colour=#800080]you'd think ponies would stop an' think about stuff like that, y'know[/colour]?" [colour=#40e0d0]"I uh, had read that story, actually." [/colour][colour=#000000]Too right she had. Wordplay had been so infuriated, she had never gotten a chance to see Vinyl live in her own hometown before she got herself thrown out of it. [/colour][colour=#40e0d0]"To be honest, you kind of had it coming to you. People look up to you, and your music's entrancing, as in it's hard to carry a rational thought through listening to it, it's that good. I'd probably have been caught up in the mess had I been there." [/colour][colour=#000000]Wordplay shrugged. It was the truth. The rest of the information that followed had been things covered by magazines in Manehattan, but it was still nice and disconcerting to hear them directly from the musician's mouth. [/colour][colour=#40e0d0]"Let them eat cake, I suppose."[/colour] [colour=#4b0082]"There is this wonderful place in Manehatten though ran by some Roamanian immigrants. Spectacular."[/colour] [colour=#40e0d0]"I think I know what you're talking about. I've eaten at a place like that with my family before. Is it the one with the guy with the really funny accent who checks on you once every minute on average?" [/colour][colour=#000000]That had been such an endearingly nice service, on top of the food actually being good. Wordplay was wonderfully surprised, it seemed to be harder to come by public information on Octavia than it was Vinyl. Hearing out her tastes was thus a great boon to her, even in her semi-phsycopathic state at the moment.[/colour] [colour=#4b0082]"In the tea shop the smooth sounds and dulcet tones go well with a taste of minty tea and delicious cake."[/colour] [colour=#000000]The petite little mare said this, said Starburst was her name. It was frankly just as hard to address her as it was the other two, because of the noble air this mare had as her style. Wordplay wasn't 'fancy', it was hard for her around those types of ponies as she felt herself coming out as uncouth in the presence of the aristocracy. And unlike a similarly classy girl like Octavia, Wordplay didn't even have any known existing commonality with this one to overcome the awkwardness of their differences in style. Thankfully, this one wasn't famous, at least as far as Wordplay was concerned. [/colour][colour=#40e0d0]"Mmm. So is that a store in Manehattan, I assume? I've never been around to it, if you could give me the address..."[/colour] [colour=#00ffff]"Hello everypony. Having a splended day I hope."[/colour] [colour=#40e0d0]"Uh, yeah?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Sweet Melody, 'Mel', seemed to be the closest pony to Wordplay's own level at the moment. She was a bit thankful for her arrival, since she was the first mare here who she could talk with without feeling like she had to talk up, talk to someone out of her league somehow. [/colour][colour=#40e0d0]"Going to echo Ms. Octavia's question here. What do you, uh, do as a musician?"[/colour] [colour=#40e0d0]"As for me, the name's Wordplay." [/colour][colour=#000000]She had to resist the urge to say something crass for her favorite food and drink. Good, good. Her sense of sarcasm was recovering from her celebrity induced shock. [/colour][colour=#40e0d0]"I find it hard to have a favorite food and drink, since I do live in Manehattan. Center of cultural fusion as it is, I honestly don't know what cuisine I'm eating half the time while I'm there. But I'll generally spring for something Eastern if I can help it. Big fan of spicy food. Now I like all music with quality, same as Ms. Octavia and Ms. Scratch, but to be honest I have to spring for rap. As my name implies, I love lyricism and wit, and it often shines through best in well produced rap, in my opinion." [/colour][colour=#000000]Fashion was another one of Wordplay's interests, she could say a lot about that:[/colour] [colour=#40e0d0]"Well uh, in the hip-hop game there's an emphasis on designer brands of clothing. I know most of the Canterlot lines, I follow Hoity Toity and the other big fashion critics, I know some of the brands outside of Canterlot but they're not as important to my game. I suppose that's because Canterlot's one of the few places where ponies regularly wear clothes? That's why Canterlot's a center of rap, despite the seeming paradox that exists in that being the case." [/colour][colour=#000000]Wordplay decided to stop there. She'd already said enough on the subject, she might look bad if she kept going on it.[/colour]

Canterlot RP has a tendency to be laggy and errory (error filled?) at times. Dunno what to say, could you be specific about the posting problem? And, uh, your call.

Sounds good. It's up, so if you want to drop on by go ahead.

[colour=#008080]"I am not so conceited as to have a portrait of myself in my own office."[/colour] [colour=#008080]"Although I have to wonder if sleep is..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive's typewriter gave a few last clacks, the keys suddenly dying as Swan's thought train died as well. It was fairly typical for her, with her less than completely focused thoughts, to sometimes lose her sense of direction in an article. She had interviewed a local weather mare, had a compelling little feature to be written for her, but Swan just wasn't feeling it now. She just had been, but she was so easily distracted at times. A sigh, a hoof reached up to her hat and caressed it lightly.[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"I need a break, Ellie." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive was very used to talking to herself in her own office, and by now her staff probably was as well. The entierty of the office was one large room on the corner of a high rise tower in the middle of Canterlot, the size of a decent home with no dividing walls between individual workspaces. Swan Dive had decreed it so from her first day working, she liked to be close with her staff and any visitors who happened to drop by, as Swan loved receiving letters to the editor in the form of personal visits. The room had several desks for the ponies, some complementary spreads of food laid out several times a day. Each pony who worked there had plenty of personal room to decorate as they pleased, for they were a small staff.[/colour] [colour=#000000]Swan's own space was mostly bare, but the contents of her desk gave the reasoning up quickly. On her desk were framed photos and trophies, all reminders of her hobby as a dancer. The one thing she really focused on besides her journalistic endeavors, the space around her desk was commonly host to her practice of routines. Again, her staff was probably far used to it by now. [/colour]Swan felt the need to get grooving, perhaps a quick trotthrough of the salsa routine she'd be putting on tomorrow, but first, she glanced at her employees. [colour=#ffd700]"Hello, everypony! Having a good day so far?" [/colour][colour=#000000]The style of affairs in the office of Young Mare's Tail was incredibly relaxed, Swan Dive allowed her workers free reign to do whatever they felt necessary to complete their assigned articles. She loved all of them, and had interviewed and published most of them already.[/colour]

[colour=#008080]"Every pony for me is something simple yet sweet. Like a bonbon."[/colour] [colour=#000000]Swan Dive was many things. She was the noted owner and writer for Young Mare's Tail, an up and coming publication that Canterlot couldn't get enough of. She was one of Canterlot's eccentric socialites, a mare others wished they could ignore for all of her oddities but who simply was too friendly to be ignored. She was a mare of incredibly odd tastes in fashion, as her rather uniquely designed hat she had gone so far as to name 'Ellie' attested to. She was simple but sweet, a charming young mare with much to offer and-[/colour] Growl. - And she was hungry, as her stomach's complaints attested to. It was just her luck that she had fallen asleep on the train over to Ponyville and had thus missed out on the serving of lunch. But the specific desires of her tongue, the gustatory need that permeated through her and set her mind afire with salivating- not actually, thank Celestia- desire. She was craving something sweet, the candy of her youth that her enormous child-like sweet tooth refused to go another second without. So Swan Dive trotted briskly through the streets, she was sent sending her regular and rude reminders of her need for a treat, she was blushing a bit, humiliated by her demanding and noisy beast of a stomach. She glanced around, wondering if others were staring at her. They were, but it was mostly the dress and hat in particular that drew the attention of others. She shied away, more intent on her need to find an eatery. So down the streets of Ponyville she trotted, looking for her mark.

Wordplay was wearing her sole piece of 'bling' as it were, a golden butterfly hair pin that glittered in her hair right above one of her ears, below which were her eye-hiding sunglasses. She was a rapper, but not that much butch, she kept herself reasonably pretty for a filly her age, with hints of makeup, eye shadow, eyelashes, where it was called for. She was still unsure of her own decision to join the 'Game', was still unsure as to what the game was actually even supposed to entail. It was strange enough that everypony sans a few who seemed to be just out of place as she was had suddenly vanished the moment the clock turned. But she was pretty sure she was the youngest present, by the looks of things. Already a bad vibe was coming out for her. [colour=#40e0d0]"Are we supposed to know each other already? I don't recognize a single one of you." [/colour][colour=#000000]That was a statement made in response to the first stallions to speak, as they seemed to have familiarity with one another already. She met Sword's glance evenly, her shade masking her eyes and making her seem cooly disinterested, as was their job. [/colour]

[colour=#008080]"My questions are like cookies, sweet but at times a bit burnt"[/colour] Swan Dive nodded happily, glad for the chance to keep wandering. She wasn't really interested in the exhibits, but Swan was just naturally a mare of action, she loved to be in motion. She was already trotting circles around Spin Tale- literally- and they hadn't even started moving yet. So when they actually did start moving, Swan Dive made for quite the strange sight, her slow concentric circles around the Doctor, perfectly spaced so as to keep his personal space well and unviolated. [colour=#ffd700]"Where we can begin, Dr. Spin Tale, is anywhere. We did begin from the manticore exhibit, after all. So please do tell, do you have a favorite exhibit in your own museum?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan had the eerie ability to always hold Spin's eyes with her own, no matter where she was relative to him in his own circle. Just as it seemed she'd fall out of sight, she adjusted her motion so as to let him keep up with her. She was big on eye contact, of course. It was crucial to her job. [/colour]

[colour=#222222] [/colour] [colour=#222222] [colour=#008080]"I'm never cold, except when I'm actually physically cold."[/colour] [/colour] [colour=#222222] Swan Dive admired the facade as she entered, it reminded her so much of the pretentiousness of many a home in Canterlot, with mis-mashing of elegant details and decor choices obviously put together just because they were the 'in' thing at the time. Of course, Swan didn't think so bitterly of her neighbors. Indeed her house was marred by one too many lawn ornaments tacked up on the roof. That had been an especially strange fad, one Swan had enjoyed and still enjoyed up to now, her collection of rooftop angels.[/colour] [colour=#222222] Now, when Flying indicated a hatstand, Swan actually blanched. It was rare, so incredibly rare for her to willingly part from her favored hat, 'Ellie' as she loved to call it. It stood out, perhaps in a bad way, but Swan was simply too attached to it. [colour=#FFD700]"Uh, ahem. Sorry for that." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan was a bit sheepish with her outburst. Flying couldn't have known about her attachment to her own hat.[/colour][/colour] [colour=#222222] [colour=#000000]Swan Dive was interested in the appearance of Flying's mother. She looked like a strong, capable mare with years of physical labor under her smock. The sort that Swan had only really seen in romantic books before, the sort of mare that would probably have quite the tale for the Tail. But this was Flying's hour, not her mother's. So Swan bowed gracefully in response to the matron of the home, balancing as she was more than capable of doing on three hooves, smiled warmly at her hostess. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"I will be no trouble, I promise." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan let herself be guided to the table, a cozy little thing it looked like, and sat herself down. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Oh, is that so?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan didn't feel cold at all, and she had indeed returned to her healthy countenance, the frost vanished in the warmth of the home. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Well I'm sure you're more suited for this cold than I, yes? Where do you practice?"[/colour][/colour]

Penumbra was a bit embarrassed by the comment that drew attention to her yawn, she smiled sheepishly in response. It was a sore spot for her, her sleeping habits, but right now it felt uncomfortable more than it did annoying to dwell on. Again, with any luck she'd not have to deal with it today. She was enjoying her time 'working' as Bridge's 'security detail'. [colour=#808080]"Huh? Bridge, something wrong?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Penumbra took it as a good sign that her ability to read the mood hadn't dissipated away yet. And right now, Bridge seemed more than a bit nervous. Penumbra asked out of concern. She trotted along, careful to keep eye contact as best she could.[/colour]

[colour=#008080]"My ears are very firmly in place, so feel free to talk them off all you wish."[/colour] [colour=#000000]Swan Dive was excitable, and she began to follow Twilight's stride, pacing in her own little circle as she heard out the little foal. Like many other a filly her age, Swan Dive detected the need to find the inner talent, the quest for the cutie mark. Thankfully Twilight didn't seem to be bitter, anxious yes, but Swan Dive knew that anxiousness could be turned very easily into exactly what little colts and fillies needed to find their mark, so to speak. Swan Dive smiled at Twilight, reassuringly. She had no problem with Twilight's rambling. In fact, though Swan Dive hadn't been considering it at first, she realized that Twilight's tale would make for a wonderful little story.[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"Oh Twilight, perhaps that is the case?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive felt for those in the world without privileges that she had taken for granted growing up, she swore she'd someday use her social clout in Canterlot to take positive steps in the right direction for the youth who needed resources to peruse their heart's desires. But all in good time. For now, Twilight's immediate case could at least be made headway on. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"I lament that resources are only so many in Equestria... But!" [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan held up a hoof, asking for a momentary pause and focus of attention onto her next point. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"But I could perhaps give you a bit of my time? Tell me about your love of fashion, show me even! I don't know if I could help you earn your mark, but perhaps I could help you develop your natural talents."[/colour] [colour=#000000]Swan raised an eyebrow at her younger counterpart. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Tell me Twilight, have you ever appeared in a magazine before?"[/colour]

[colour=#afeeee]The Great and Powerful Trixie [/colour][colour=#000000](RLF Airpad, Four-Six-Niner, Virginia)[/colour] [colour=#000000]Freelancers? To be honest, Trixie didn't know much about the intel on that group. She had assumed it had been part of the RLF in some capacity, given that they were all equally enemies of the GEF anyways. [/colour][colour=#afeeee]"The Mistress of Shadows? The Great and Powerful Trixie? Trixie." [/colour][colour=#000000]Trixie knew that her identity mattered little, not now, not at this part of the crazy tale that had been her life. When the apocalypse came and went- Trixie had been sure she'd have been the first to die when that day came- and you were still alive, your worldview was sure to be more than slightly altered. She looked forward to being productive in the future under Twilight's new rule, assuming it actually came to be. Peace had been something Trixie had never considered as even being on the table. But now, with all that had transpired so suddenly, it seemed so highly possible... Trixie had to wonder if her disposition was unnerving her counterpart. Trixie was told that genuine smiles did not suit her, she looked far more natural wearing a dastardly countenance. Insulting, but perhaps accurate.[/colour] "It is an,,, impressive machine." Trixie examined the dropship from a distance, her tone a bit unsure and hesitant. She did not trust technology, never had, even as it had rapidly developed under Twilight's rule. She had tried to pilot a flying machine once. She still had the scar on her flank to tell her that was a bad idea through and through. [colour=#afeeee]"I'm glad that such a capable pilot is helping in the effort to rebuild our glorious Equina. To be honest, I could not fly anything like that to save my life." [/colour][colour=#000000]Trixie almost never admitted her weaknesses to anypony. She wondered why she was starting now. [/colour][colour=#afeeee]"Do you have an actual name you're willing to give Trixie, 469?"[/colour] [colour=#ee82ee]Princess Mi Amore Cadenza [/colour][colour=#000000](Somewhere in Equina, Chrysalis)[/colour] [colour=#000000]Cadence leaned against her Queen, her now once more colorful mane soft against Chrysalis' carapace. In times of terror, one turned to love or whatever approximated it for comfort. For Cadence, she knew somewhere deep down that betraying her holy bond with her probably long gone husband was wrong. But to be honest, her life had been turned upside down many times already, and this time it had been the actual world turning upside down along with her. To her, the fact that she was still alive meant something. There was still love and hope somewhere in this world, though her now jaded eyes had to wonder if it would ever grace Equestria again. It definitely seemed to be graced now, with the sun bright over a city swarming with dragons, swarming with ponies of all creeds banding together for the common goal of survival in the wake of disaster. Cadence had to wonder, however. She had been touched by hope too many times, now she felt cold to the touch.[/colour] [colour=#ee82ee]"Mmm..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Cadence had considered words similar to her Queen's before, in the three days that she had been in Equina and had been watching it rebuilt. Did the crown need to be restored to Equestria? She was sure the people wanted leaders, but they had many options for that now. And it remained the fact that her aunties were not blameless in their share of the disharmony that had wracked Equestria since the beginnings of war. Cadence slowly rubbed her crownless head against Chrysalis, mulling over her Queen's words. [/colour][colour=#ee82ee]"I do not think it is the time to think of ruling, my Queen. And I would not be the right ruler, even if now were the time. You, perhaps. Not I." [/colour]

Quick update, I'm now looking for writer OCs to be Swan Dive's interns/staff in the new thread I'll be making for her actual place of business. Canterlot, so if your OC doesn't live there or can't be there for an extended period of time then that's too bad. And I'll probably open the 5th slot soon, I have the time as of now to devote to that.

Penumbra smiled. [colour=#808080]"That sounds like a plan. Meeting other musicians sounds like a cool..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Penumbra suddenly gave a great yawn, light but very obvious. Oh, she must have gotten less sleep than she thought she had. She hoped she'd make it through the rest of the day without her usual perpetual exhaustion kicking in. It would be bad for all involved if that happened. [/colour][colour=#808080]"... Sorry, excuse me! Yeah, it sounds cool. I could even hear you practice for a bit, I guess? Meet your band mates?"[/colour]

Wordplay had been preparing for school, had a half eaten piece of toast with jam atop it when her mother had burst in, wild. Wordplay had had to assure her mother that she was not in trouble with the Royal Family, and no, she was not going to officially be working for them in any capacity. With that taken care of, Wordplay had put aside her breakfast, read the letter. Her eyebrows had gone from their normal positions to very raised, her her expression had gone from vaguely tired to completely vague, as if she were suffering from a trance, she scribbled a few words onto the closest thing one could write on. She took her paper, her toast, left without even saying goodbye to her parents. All the way to the nearest mailbox, into which she dropped her very informal letter- actually written on a napkin: Wordplay shook her head, came out of her sarcasm-fueled reverie just in time to realize what she had done. Well, it was too late to grab it out of the mail now. She might as well make a follow up, so that there was a chance she wouldn't be put on a list of mares to be banished to the moon or the Everfree or the Everfree on the moon. Wait, did that even exist? Her letter sent, Wordplay went on with her day, starting with her still half-eaten toast. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT Penumbra had to be honest, she was surprised that the Princess would actually take her up on her offer. To be a penpal to a Princess of Equestria, the one she identified with most, no less... It was quite a shock to the midnight worker. She had had to sit on that letter for a few days, not really sure what to say or how to respond, what would be appropriate, how to not look like a foal... It had come to her in the middle of her usual night shift, when she had had her hooves full with rainclouds destined for the other side of the mountain, since they didn't want rain marring the skies over Canterlot the next day for whatever reason. She had been halfway through one flight, when the idea had suddenly popped into her head. She had thrown the cloud away virtually, dashed all the way to her home, written her letter, and promptly dashed back to her job. Exhausting, but totally worth it. Penumbra smiled as she felt the cloud between her hooves. By Luna- irony of her oath not lost on her- she had a role in the grand scheme of things. Now that made her night.

[colour=#222222] [colour=#AFEEEE]The Great And Powerful Trixie [/colour][colour=#000000](Equina Airspace)[/colour] [colour=#000000]A pony flying without wings or without one of those inane flying machines of metal was usually a strange sight, but in a sky flooded with dragons it was no longer such a big deal. Trixie, for all her enormous ego, was hardly a pinprick of pale blue and lavender amongst the multi-hued dragons swarming the skies about Equina, not to mention the dropships and Star Swirl knew what else. The skies above Equina were buzzing with activity in general, and it was a good sign, that the capital was this full of activity mere days after the 'Apocalypse', as they had come to call it.[/colour] [colour=#000000]Now Trixie was not the type of mare who could be counted on to know how to lead others, being as it was that she could barely lead herself with any amount of discipline. She was glad Chronarch had quickly recovered, promptly used his skills into organizing the efforts to rebuild Equina. The moment Trixie had known Twilight would be safe, that she was indeed perhaps herself for the first time in years, Trixie had gone off to do what she did best, bully and intimidate. She had been flying between GEF centers of population elsewhere in Equestria, giving orders as only she knew how to. Keep your population under control, organize searches for the perpetrators of the apocalypse, await further orders. Trixie was confident Twilight would come to, and when she did, then the GEF would be back on track, Trixie was also sure.[/colour] [colour=#000000]It had been so long, really, since Trixie had been in public in her true form. It was usually the case that she wore any other form, to throw off others, to make sure the Mistress of Shadows was seen as a properly respected agent of the GEF, not some former hack show magician. The wind of her wake blew easily through her hair, whipping it up, her hat only kept on by strong kinetic magic. The sun was risen. It was a beautiful day over the city still picking itself up from disaster, and things for the moment looked up. [/colour] [colour=#000000]There were spaces where the metal contraptions were landing, so Trixie followed suit...[/colour] [colour=#000000](RLF Airpad, with Four-Six-Niner)[/colour] [colour=#000000]Trixie touched down lightly, a light cloud of dust kicked up ever so slightly, her cape billowing dramatically about her. She trotted to a mare that seemed to be on duty, even though she wasn't in GEF uniform. Factional differences hardly mattered, not now.[/colour] [colour=#AFEEEE]"Trixie is curious, you are RLF, yes?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Trixie asked of 4-6-9er. [/colour][colour=#AFEEEE]"We are ever so grateful for your assistance, and Trixie especially." [/colour][colour=#000000]Trixie smiled slightly. It was getting easier, it seemed, to not be a cold hearted agent. Cold hearts didn't do much for a capital rebuilding, a capital the focus of so many ponies with different agendas.[/colour] [colour=#FF0000]Vinyl Scratch [/colour][colour=#000000](New Citadel Courtyard)[/colour] [colour=#000000]Vinyl saluted along with the rest of the soldiers in the room when Draco received his medal, her formal salute strangely fitting for her still very civilian countenance and body. She had ditched her signature shades long ago, her stark red eyes would never again be hidden from the sun or from other's eyes. [/colour] [colour=#000000]She had no body armor on, as it was not what she had volunteered as. Always self-sufficient, Vinyl had done her own electrical work in her studio, knew everything there was to know about circuit engineering. It had been surprisingly easy to translate that skill into a military application, and she was now one of the GEF's newest combat engineers. She had recently disarmed a minefield of stored bombs in a barracks rendered dangerous by the Apocalypse, and thus proven herself more than capable. It had been the strangest thing, the horrifically close ticking, it had been... musical. She could never escape the beat, even in service to her country. [/colour] [colour=#000000]As the guards began to leave to their duties, Vinyl quickly approached Draxis, who was more or less her superior. [/colour] [colour=#FF0000]"Sir, the explosives to demolish the collapsing wall to the ghetto have been primed. At your command."[/colour] [colour=#FFFF00]Fluttershy [/colour][colour=#000000](Outskirts of Equina)[/colour] [colour=#000000]A mare naked walked the abandoned streets of Equina's outskirts, which still resembled a warzone as they were further from the center of rebuilding. Fluttershy wore a somber look, feeling the pain of those who had perished, honoring them silently and strongly. She herself looked rather beaten, her once beautiful body was burnt, scratched and gouged at, with a particularly nasty wound nearly having torn her right wing off, by the looks of it. She appeared unaffected by the injures, there wasn't even the slightest limp in her step.[/colour] [colour=#FFFF00]"..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Fluttershy was silent, offering her prayers as she had learned from the Starlight Order for those passed in the Apocalypse.[/colour] [/colour]

It just makes more sense. Okay, not really, but still. I will hold a monopoly on the ships. MONOPOLY Also, not posting for the Princess and Lypris until Scythe establishes where the Changelings have been.

Not while I'm playing Trixie is that happening.

TBH they're the OTP of this RP at this point.

And that is also a lot of information related to the previous lot of information. Soon we'll need our own wiki and forum for this RP.

[colour=#008080]"You must go so far as to remind me of my own name sometimes. I have a habit of forgetting."[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"A spa? And one that you frequent, no less?" [/colour][colour=#000000]To be perfectly honest, Swan Dive was frontloaded, already had a bias and expectations. She had been so charmed by Rarity in the brief time that they had been acquainted in the past, that her journalists's lenses were already fogged up, distorted. To be sure, Rarity was an excellent mare, but Swan had to be incredibly careful. If she wasn't, her story would not be truly representative of Ponyville's greatest fashionista. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Now I don't know how many other spas operate in this town, but one you are a patron of is sure to be an excellent one." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan was putting thought into a quick detour to that establishment. It had been quite some time since she had been so occupied...[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"I wish to discuss you, Rarity. Not in an invasive way, mind you, but whatever you would be alright with the world knowing about you..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive gestured one hoof through the air, a sweeping exp ression supposed to represent the whole world, she supposed. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"I am Swan Dive, the owner and primary editor and primary field agent and other titles I am sure I hold by default due to my lack of employees..." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive trailed off, as she was sometimes wont to when her own train of thought confused her, stalled out into a horrifically slow mental crash.[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"... Sorry Aloe, Rarity. Yes, I am the many things of Young Mare's Tail, a publication dedicated to individual biographies and such. It does not circulate much in Ponyville, so I suppose neither of you would have heard of it before." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan intended to get circulation in Ponyville started, perhaps right after this excursion. A local big name would always make for draw to the brand. Swan Dive inclined her head, returned the ball into the courts of her two new acquaintances. [/colour]

[colour=#008080]"My subject's discretion is the discretion I always use. My own discretion is my subject's discretion."[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"Oh, don't say that Flying! I am just a hobbyist, no more. You will make me blush if you compliment me too highly." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive was actually developing a bit of a blush as it was, as they trotted along. But there was also frost forming on her eyelashes, and a forehoof was rubbing insistently at where her blush was forming, making her gait a three-legged one only not awkward because she really was lithe and skilled on her hooves. Perhaps Swan Dive was beginning to suffer from the cold, as she had protected everything but her face. Swan Dive could ignore the pain only as a result of her own tendency to be easily distracted. So she plowed on happily:[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"I'll bet you have considered it." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan giggled, then heard out Flying's next statement. Oh, well... Swan's powerful empathy was once more reading the subtle and fine details, she heard the strain in Flying's voice as she spoke. There was something there, something more. But Swan had to be careful. She couldn't ask, not yet, not directly. To know a pony, one first had to love them. Well, Swan already loved all ponies. But love on a closer level.[/colour] [colour=#ffd700]"Hm." [/colour][colour=#000000]For now Swan chose to ignore her observations of Flying's job. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"This story is yours, Flying. Not your mothers. I'll get that in a different edition." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan laughed, smiled eagerly at Flying Brick. She hoped she'd be let in so that they could talk more. [/colour]

[colour=#008080]"If my head is in the clouds, does that mean I am closer to our Princesses?"[/colour] The silence that followed her proclamation worried Swan significantly, her smile managed to fade a bit from being impossibly large to merely sizable as the seconds ticked by. She had been rejected before, on the basis of her style of interviewing not being what other ponies sought to be heard. The one advantage she had over a publication like the Times was that she was very thorough, it was probable that she had already gotten fifty percent of Canterlot's population into her magazine, along with repeats and special features. But her style wasn't always what ponies wanted. [colour=#ffd700]"Oh!" [/colour][colour=#000000]It was to Swan's great relief that Spin Tale more or less seemed to accept, with the invitation at any rate. Swan however was one for organic processes, she did not like conducting her interviews like interviews. Whatever that was supposed to mean. [/colour][colour=#ffd700]"Let us stay here! It would do you nor I no good to try and conduct this free of the prying eyes of patrons." [/colour][colour=#000000]Swan Dive did a little shimmy slash two step in place, her body full of eager energy. Onward with the interview, it seemed! [/colour]

Oh, and here was Death now with his great scythe or whatever the heck it was Death was portrayed with. He was tearing out Wordplay's soul, threshing it, burning it and replacing it with the worst of all spawned from evil, the soul of a fan girl. A sort of screech forced itself through Wordplay's tightly shut mouth, she slammed her head into the table. No doubt she looked like a complete foal right now. She had to calm down, had to breathe. They were just goddesses of music, that was it, that was all. No biggie. She could deal with it. She took several deep breaths, struggled to rally herself. Then her head came up, she was looking more at the table than at the spread before her or at any of her elders. [colour=#40e0d0]"Uh, I'm going to have to apologize profusely in advance. There is a good chance I am going to do something stupid and humiliating before this train ride is over." [/colour][colour=#000000]Wordplay half murmured that warning at everything except the three mares beside her. [/colour][colour=#40e0d0]"I'll answer your questions, just give me a moment to... something." [/colour][colour=#000000]Wordplay kept her gaze away from the others, just stared down at her own spot of the table as if it held the answers to the deep questions of the universe.[/colour]

Penumbra couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes at that. 'Didn't know how to talk to mares'. How many times had she heard that one before? Well, now that she thought about it, she had never heard that one before. Stallions normally didn't single her out as attractive or worth talking to. It was now Penumbra's turn to blush a bit, murmur to herself, [colour=#808080]"I don't really get that line often, now do I...?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Penumbra was glad for the change of subject, got up alongside him, waving a hoof to the server to clean up the mess she'd accidentally made of the table. [/colour][colour=#808080]"Concerts, perhaps? Or, uh, I dunno. Can you take me backstage, possibly?" [/colour]

Pupil walked along stoically, not especially impressed with the sheer size, sheer opulence, sheer power, or the sheer anything else in the Crystalline Cathedral. It was because her mentalscape had become a frenzy of information, gates opening, marks of the past, great heroes of the past whose names Pupil couldn't even pretend to know, not without the proper signs in her own mind... Oh wait, were they learning combat? [colour=#008000]"Combat sir? Will we all be trained?" [/colour][colour=#000000]Pupil began to walk to the Apprentice's Hall, but slowly, so that her question would be answered. [/colour]