NeilWacaster

You've been doing great in our RP, awesome that you decided to go with it, sevofthesands

The barista was balancing four orders in her head. "Alright, a chocolate milk, two peach cobblers a la mode, a cider malt with bendy straw..." Suddenly, the elderly gentlecolt who had been quietly sitting and reading the newspaper this entire time spoke up. "I've got a sudden hankering for a caramel macchiato, two shots, extra whipped cream, with raspberry. And hurry it up, I haven't got all day." Oh dear Celestia... She thought to herself. She normally had no trouble remembering orders, but today she was having a hay of a time focusing. She bustled behind the counter, preparing the orders a little too hastily. All too soon, she emerged with a heaping tray of food and drinks. "Here ya are," she said to the two gossips, "Two raspberry cobblers, hold the ice cream." Before they could answer, she was already across the room. "Yer caramel malt, extra whipped" she said, spilling a little of the overfilled drink as she set it down. She rushed back to the gentlecolt. "An' here's your chocolate frappuccino, hold the whipped, extra cherry." He began to bellow, but she had whirled over to the grey stallion with the large black hat. "An' yer cider flavored milk, sir. Though why anypony would want cider flavor milk beats me ..." Angry shouts came at her from all directions. "I ordered a CIDER MALT, you dolt!" "What an outrage! I specifically told you PEACH cobbler, WITH ice cream!" "Young lady, is this any way to treat your elder? I ordered a macchiato!" She stood, bewildered. Could she have mixed up the orders that badly? She heard a sinister snicker from the grey stallion's table.

Oh no... there's another?!

The barista was outraged at this pegasus' antics. She had seen how clumsy the mare was, and just knew that any second one of her antique furnishings would be broken irreparably. "YOUNGIN! Either keep still or git out!"

Her touch on his shoulder. It was akin to the feeling of your first sip of a cup of hot cider after coming in on a snowy day. It made his entire body feel warmer, lighter. He sniffed, the last of the sobs gone, although his breaths were still ragged. "It does still hurt. A lot. And I'm afraid that if I talk about it, others will reject me for what I did. What really scares me though," he said, realizing he was about to bare his soul, "is that I don't know whether I will ever be able to love again." He looked down at the ground, shutting his eyes up tight. A single, large teardrop fell.

The barista was not afraid of anything, but even so, hearing this strange pony's voice again gave her the shivers. Nevertheless, he had tipped her well with his first order, and so she wasn't about to let her discomfort show. She whisked five fritters out from the dessert case, arranged them expertly on a large platter, and set them before him with a flourish. "Enjoy." she said, faking a smile.

You. Constantly.

DISCORD!!!

The barista sauntered up to the three ponies at the counter. "Shoo, I got more bi'ness today than all o' last week! Can I get you boys anythin' else? Maybe one o' my dee-licious apple fritters?" She leaned across the counter, whispering, "An' what the hay is going on? If that Persnickety is a'causin' all this trouble, I swear ..." She slammed a hoof down in disgust.

Awesome! Solid character design and backstory. Now go join an RP and show us what you're made of!

There were a million reasons why he couldn't do this. He just wanted to curl up in his warm bed back in Ponyville and cry himself to sleep, as had happened now and again since that tragic day. It had never affected him so strongly in public before, though, and that made him feel all the worse. Persnickety seemed genuinely concerned, if the look in her kind, orange eyes was any indication. She was leading him, gently, outside the small shop. He followed, apprehensive, and afraid that he would just make the situation worse. It had been a long while since he had talked about this with anyone, and he felt all of the pent up years of anger, frustration, pain, but most of all, sorrow, come welling up all at once. His breath came in short gasps, as he tried to control his sobs. It just so happened that there was a small park nearby, with a gorgeous display of spring flowers, some wooden benches arranged artistically, and majestic spreading trees to provide shade from the pleasant afternoon sun. It looked empty. He sat down on one of the benches, his head in his hooves. The tears were coming a little slower now, and for some reason leaving the café served to clear his mind and help him step away from the negative emotions. It still hurt, more even than his wing injury (which the short walk had badly aggravated), but at least the pain was bearable now. After a few moments, he felt strong enough to raise his teary eyes to look at Persnickety.

LOL! Can't claim that it's much good, but if you need a little inspiration, you could check out mine:

Excellent! Looks good. I like the design. I see you're continuing to flesh out the character description... excellent. Keep up the good work!

Pray tell, what is this riddle?

YEAGH! HOW DID YOU GET IN MY TEA!?

Excellent choice... there aren't any other ponies that name. I like it, sounds like a good name, especially for a literary pony. Make sure that you change the title of the post as well. Open "edit" for the first post, and click "full editor," and you'll be able to change the title. It's certainly not a requirement, but I recommend that you make a pony for your profile picture based on your character. It makes it easier for everyone to keep track of who is saying what in the RP. You may want to use a pony creator such as this one http://generalzoi.deviantart.com/art/Pony-Creator-Full-Version-254295904

I doubt that Discord would allow me to have your free pass. He's been having a ball tormenting me for a while now. HAVEN'T YOU, DISCORD!?

OK then...

Looks like a good start for a character. You'll want to go ahead and add a character summary, as this will both help you RP and help your character get approved. A fellow wordsmith? We should do an RP together. In fact, if you'd like to check out the one I started, you can go here: It's in the FiM free for all, so you don't have to have an approved character to get started RPing. So feel free to jump in! You might want to join the two musicians at the cafe counter, they appear to be about to have a rather interesting conversation. Also, watch out for the mysterious grey pony on one side of the room. He *might* have some connection to discord. *hint hint* By the way, you may want to consider a more "pony-like" name. Most (but not all) ponies only have a first name, and it tends to be something directly related to their or their parents special talent, or to a natural phenomena in the pony world. Example: Applejack, rather than Jessie McCready. Anyway, looking forward to seeing you in the RP!

I'M TOTALLY A FAN OF STAR TREK, DISCORD. DO I GET A FREE PASS?

Hey! Welcome to the forums. I think you'll enjoy your time here, as long as that wicked DISCORD doesn't get in your way.

After hearing Persnickety give him such a nice compliment about his work, he smiled broadly. Noticing her blush slightly, his heart leaped. I actually said something right for a change. Now don't go and buck this up. "I'm glad to hear that you find my ramblings inspiring. Yes, I do deeply enjoy my work. But even more than that, I gain satisfaction from the feeling that I am helping ponies be more wise to the world and scientifically literate. Whenever I receive a letter saying that my book helped a pony pass her Science 101 exam, all the months of toil are fully repaid." He looked thoughtful. "I would do this work even if I never was paid anything. The fact that I can make a living doing it makes it all the sweeter." Still with his head buried in the large briefcase, he heard somepony trying to introduce himself, and another walking towards the table, chattering all the while. Good grief. Are all the ponies in Stalliongrad this nosey? If only Persnickety and I could just talk privately. Trying to sound calm, he glanced up and replied curtly, "Newsworthy. But my friends call me Newsy." As he turned back to his briefcase, he noticed with horror that the photo of himself and Rosewood had fallen to the table. And of all the dastardly twists of fate, it happened to land right in front of Persnickety. His eyes widened, the pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Oh no. Oh no, nonononono.... Her mouth was moving, but he could barely understand her past the throbbing of his head, his wing, and the whirlwind of emotions. In an instant, all the pain of his relationship with Rosewood came flooding back. He briefly considered lying, saying that she was his sister, or that she had died, but knew that Persnickety was too clever a pony to fall for such a cheap trick. Besides, he was trying to earn her trust, and the best way to gain trust is truth. Trembling, he reached out a hoof to take back the picture she was holding out to him. "A dear friend. Why yes, she was. We dated," he coughed, stifling a sob. "Ahem, we dated during university. She was ... the best thing that ever happened to me. It sounds cliché, but it's true. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, and I thought she felt the same way. We had been discussing marriage for months, and I thought everything was fine. Now I know I should have seen the signs, but love blinded me. I bought the most beautiful engagement ring in Canterlot for her. But then, on the night I was going to propose ... we ..." He couldn't hold back the sorrow any longer. The tears began to flow, and he turned away, utterly ashamed.

He had a crazed look on his face, as he continued to revel in the pile of gravel. "YES! THE POWER IS ALL MINE! MORE, MORE MORE!

Hearing another pony enter and strike up a conversation behind him, Newsworthy thought, This little bar is really beginning to fill up. Must be the lunch rush. "Interesting perspective you have on inspiration. Perhaps it's because I've been working in news for some time now, but I find that for me, inspiration doesn't come to those who wait, but to those who work." He blushed a deep, crimson shade, realizing the obvious error in his statement. "Not at all implying that you're not a hard worker. But ... I personally am most inspired when I am in the middle of the action." As he spoke, his eyes shone with pride and happiness. "When I'm there at the scene of the crime, the story just comes to me. I don't have to wait for the right words. They flow from me like blood from an open wound. I can't staunch the tide. It's much the same when I'm writing my books on science. As I read the research articles written by professors for professors, all I do is consider how to explain the topic to my nieces. If they could understand it and find it interesting, I know that thousands of ponies, large and small, will too. And besides," he chuckled again, "It's much more fun to imagine their giggling faces as I liken the lever to a seesaw than to force myself to 'write what the ponies want,' as my publisher is constantly admonishing." He realized he had been rambling again. Why can't you stop talking about yourself for two seconds? "Anyway," he finished hastily, "Perhaps a change of pace would do your creative juices some good. You never know where you're going to find inspiration, but for me, it's hardly ever from my daily routine." He suddenly noticed that she was holding her head with a hoof. "Are you alright? I think I have some headache medicine in my briefcase, somewhere." He began digging through his stacks of papers, ink bottles and quills. As he did so, a picture accidentally fell onto the table. It was a picture of him, looking only slightly younger, with a stunningly beautiful unicorn beside him. They were looking into each other's eyes, and smiling knowingly.