Blueblood

Psmith tut-tutted sympathetically, taking rather more measured bites now that he was come to the last third of the buns. "Trauma-induced habituation, sadly grown more common in trying times. I joined His Highness' employment shortly after he barely escaped with his life from the largest Viking Caribou raid in all the annals of history. Such fleet of flying longships! What destruction.... I pass, for decency's sake, over the details and implications. One of your profession knows them well enough." He took a pensive sip of tea. "It is a mark of character in the Prince, that immediately after such an experience his first thoughts were to open charitable and diplomatic relations to the Northern Clans, under the assumption that those who do not starve shall have no need to steal. The results, admittedly, were mixed, some clans accepting the open hoof of friendship, others... not. Their war rages still, we are given to understand." He sighed, but passed lightly over such sorrows as the babbling brook over a small waterfall. "More happily, though, it was on this trip that he met his first wife!"

Wordsworth's attention was drawn by the sound of metal unsheathing, and he took a quick glance downward towards Firey's sword. "I see you believe in *live* training, Comrade?" His voice was a little softer, though, instinctively more conciliatory. Young fop though he may seem, he knew a soldier when he saw one. "So attending to security and mindfulness therein is most commendable, though one might wish for a harder clasp on the sword, for the sake of civilians?"

"Shampoo?" Gloomy tilted her head at the answer, somewhat amazed that something so spellbinding could have so mundane an explanation. Then again, Izzy always did say that there was magic in glitter, so... maybe there was something there? "Well, your sparkle certainly shines as bright as your mane. And I'd be surprised if it did so... before. Most ponies' didn't." And as for her being a model... "Canterlogic must know what makes a good looking mare. Do they make the shampoo?" She was a good advertisement for it. For now, though, she'd have to wait for the transactions to finish. It seemed that they were in stock, at least, of the necessary ingredient, so that wouldn't take long.

Wordsworth took the response in turn. "True, true, His Royal Highness, my employer, is nowhere near as old as the first, nor as unpleasant to host as the latter. This second, I am given to understand, is a more recent development. The Royal House of Blueblood not having the best of reputations in the hinterlands, but years spent in charitable activities, of which I have assisted in a secretarial manner, have done much to rehabilitate him. As has his recent marriage, recently blessed with issue! Hence, I have been given a vacation of sorts." That was as concise an explanation of his presence and existence that Firey was likely to get. "As for what brings me here, some excellent buns, half-bit each when ordered by the dozen! Seems almost cruel to eat half-bit buns; they might grow up to be bit-buns, after all."

Sugar Moonlight had been quick to jerk her gaze up, but not quite quick enough to escape Gloomy's notice. The unicorn didn't comment on the attention, aside from a raised eyebrow, and maybe a hint of a smile? That indicated interest was certainly something she would remember, even if it wouldn't be acted on right away. She'd have to be cautious with any potential reciprocation as yet; they were but strangers ten minutes ago. "Turnovers? Hm, a plainer word, but a clearer one." She replied, as a mare used to working with them as her work-tools. She followed Sugar into the shop, taking in a deep breath of the scent laden air... and sneezing. "Choo!" Her beret fell forward, covering her other eye, and she had to scramble with her hooves for a bit to put it right, before pausing, then lighting up her horn to set the hat back in place. "I keep forgetting what I can do. Does anything of the sort happen to you?" She tilted her head, looking over Sugar curiously. "I... don't see anything that you wouldn't have been able to use without magic.... unless your mane didn't always sparkle."

Wordsworth Psmith had no idea what thoughts were running through the other's head, though he would have been more amused than anything else were he to find out. "Well, in some respects a Changeling's glamour may be counted as a prosthetic of sorts, not matching full functionality, but serving its purpose in the gap. But enough of such speculations, Comrade! Introductions are called for, as is more tea." He gestured the bouncing pink mare, imploring for a refill as he destroyed another one of his frosted buns. "My name is Wordsworth Psmith, of the Canterlot Psmiths. It is pronounced with a proceeding silent P, see also Pterodactyl, pneumonia, and psoriasis."

Aside from the usual coterie of locals, Sugar Cube Corner was regularly patronized by guests drawn in by the fame of its baked goods and baker. True, unlike Rarity, Pinkie Pie had yet to discover the financial wonder of franchise operations, and the Cakes had no interest in such things, their ambitions being more modest. It was a wonder the supply so constrained was not overcrowded with demand, but then again, most ponies over a certain age tried not to overindulge in baked sweets. Wordsworth Psmith, personal secretary to the current Archancellor of The Academy of Friendship, was not quite over that age. Indeed, he wasn't all that much older than the students, and could have applied for enrollment were he not already gainfully employed. Noblesse Oblige, as he would say in rather more and longer words; he was a colt of the Canterlot nobility, and dressed the part. He still ate like a school colt though, which meant ordering a full baker's dozen of hot cross buns and devouring them over the course of the afternoon, washed down by a bottomless mug of tea. Upon placing his usual order, he cast a monocled eye over the patronage gathered today, his gaze immediately captured by the striking figure who had not yet touched his donuts. "The cry goes 'round the castle walls, 'Hark, yet another royal is upon us!' One must compliment the improvement in husbandry, to see the flock grow so large after so long stagnating in population." Some of the locals might have gotten used to Psmith's habitual loquaciousness, but newcomers usually made the mistake of actually trying to take more than half his words seriously. Not for nothing was his cutie mark an empty word bubble. Taking his seat by the changeling, the well-dressed young stallion took his ease as if in a club lounge. "Or do we behold a foreign breed? Some guest from overseas, come as an embassy of a peace and friendship, as is their wont these days? Or perhaps, more mundanely, one or more of these elements is a prosthetic, adopted for purposes of fashion? The commitment to appearances is respected, Comrade." Chrysalis only knew what Firey would make of this eccentric.

Gloomy tilted her head. "I have always seen her like she is. But before her smile was not untouched with melancholy, for she was bright but alone. Now, Bridlewood smiles with her, and it is I who am alone." She hadn't spent much time with Sunny, though that earth pony definitely was what she would consider leadership material. She saw it with that game with Alphabittle; no other pony could get him to bet so high, and end up on the winning end of that deal. Perhaps this Sunny did not merely influence, but emphasize the personalities of others. Sugar's question of Chimichangas, if anything, made Gloomy's face more drawn and solemn. "A chimichanga/ not made in anger/ fillings in dough rolled flat to fry. Taken in with hunger/ like regrets they linger/ weighing down from behind." The poem was punctuated by a look back towards her flank, where such heavy foods ended up if indulged in. The unicorn's face remained in position as she looked back to Sugar Moonlight, but the light of the spice shop, just as they were entering, would have shown in her one visible eye a sparkle of what might actually be a sense of humor!

Sweet Chili? "That... sounds like one of Izzy's recipes. She sometimes pitches them to Alphabittle as suggestions to serve in the tea shop. They're always... interesting." She herself wasn't one to put honey in her tea, as it were, but cinnamon chai went better with sugar, so maybe this was more like a chai chili? She could get behind that. She was a mare that respected creativity and the personal touch. Sugar looked like she would as well, but it didn't hurt to make sure... "I wonder what you'd say to Izzy if she suggested something like... Sarsparilla strawberry chili chimichangas?" Moonlight watched the earth pony's face carefully. The smile... it seemed natural to her face. More natural than when Gloomy tried it in the mirror. *No, bad! Don't get too self conscious, you'll fall into your cloud again!*

OK, gotcha.

I recalled those being wired in the first episode we saw her; there might be later shots that I do not? Well, in that case, I think it looks good! Welcome to Canterlot RP. Just a couple things to keep in mind; asynch forum RP can be a bit slow paced, so a lot of members will go into length and detail to make up for any wait. Don't feel too pressured by that, but try to at least write one paragraph per post, to give folks stuff to work with, and you'll be fine.

OK, so... the wireless headphones are still a little much; all the headphones I recall seeing from the show are wired. We're not to 21st century technology levels yet, you understand? The blades on headphones too are just a little... absurd and dangerous. Also "accidentally developed armor"? Or an accident while researching armor? Because power armor is still out, it would just be normal battle plating at that point.

Well, simply remove the part about the power armor, but you can keep Firey as one of Chrysalis' R&D drones, who came up with slim, lightweight blades to fit to a changeling's wings, along with love/magic storage devices. Whether or not you keep the accident is up to you; I personally would remove it, the skills to build the prior artifacts are not OP, so your character can keep that capability. You'll have to expand on his history, talk about growing up a bit, how he came into the Queen's graces, and what motivated him to leave. A few years of travel to pick up exotic additions to his disguise, before finally talking about what led him to settle down and what kind of reaction he got.

I can understand you not wanting to make him OP, but the whole shift in his character backstory is a little awkward. And like I said, power armor itself is a bit too much of an ask. Do you understand? That's already OP as it is. Now, having blades that fit to his biological, or even prosthetic wings is fine, and magical storage devices are fine, but those would have to be separate artifacts he both has, rather than attachments to a suit of power armor. And the kind of intelligence and skill needed to make those, while high-level, would not be OP.

Alright, let's take a look... I'm guessing we're going with Firey being a changeling, due to the fact that OC alicorns aren't allowed? Honestly, I'm kind of intrigued by the idea of a changeling who's preferred appearance is so outlandish, but keep in mind if you do go with this, you're not going to be fooling anypony in-character. Lot of odd looks and comments. Still, a unique idea. The technology he's built with is a little excessive for WoE Equestria setting. The power armor is really too much, what with the built in cannons and all. If tinkering is essential to the concept of your character, we can walk through how to build a setting-appropriate mad magitek scientist, or if you were more interested in powering him up, there are also more magical/technical things we can work with. But the fact that he was a genius, and then wasn't due to some accident leaves me a little confused with where you want to take this character. What we're looking for here is a character that could have conceivably appeared in an episode of MLP:FiM. There's some leeway built into the lore, due to the nature of a children's show, but we do have to make sure that everyone playing in this setting has a common set of expectations; that makes it easier to collaboratively tell stories and have fun together!

Gloomy tilted her head at the offer. "The chill outside, versus the chili inside. Which will win, will my heart be warmed?" Perhaps sensing that this might be a little too heavy of an implication to assign to a simple offer of hospitality, the mare broke her expression into a smile, deflating slightly. "Well, it's worth a try. I'll be happy to come." Getting back to her hooves, she made to follow Sugar Moonlight to her house.

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Most ponies didn't notice this, but grey skies and rain have an interesting affect on color. Dark and muted hues are washed out, while bright and saturated colors are if anything enhanced by the setting. The first thing, therefore, that Gloomy noticed was the bright red and sparkling parts of Sugar Moonlight's mane as she approached. She blinked, the comparatively muted rest of the mare coming into focus. "I have traveled so far in the footsteps of another, hoping to find what they found. And here you are, coming to my voice's sound." She, with effort, managed a smile. "I am Gloomy. Gloomy Sonnet is my name, and often my mood and muse." Best get that out of the way early; if this earth pony was yet another that didn't want her raining on their parade, neither should waste each other's time.

It was a cold wet breeze that brought overcast skies to Maretime Bay, obscuring the sun for the first time a few weeks. The breeze had not brought a downcast unicorn into town, nor had said unicorn brought the downcast weather, but both fitted each other to a T. Gloomy Sonnet was a long way from home by now. The damp air had by now pasted her dark purple mane over one eye, her hooves were sore from the walking, and her head was full of all the reasons this wouldn't work. After all, if the newly-brightened Bridlewood had little use for a poet of melancholy, how much more a bustling town, full of Earth Ponies who literally had names like "Sunny?" Still, it wasn't like things would get any better if she stayed at home, and Aphabittle had told her he wouldn't serve her any more tea until she at least tried, so she might as well get this whole "find a friend" thing a try. The town did not give an auspicious sign to her venture, the immanent rain sending ponies indoors, leaving the streets mostly empty. Coming into town, she brushed her mane back to uncover both eyes, looking around as she asked in a husky voice, "Hello, Hello? Are you there? Am I alone?" The grey-coated mare naturally fell into a poetic meter when she spoke, but it didn't always rhyme. Right now, though, she was making a picture more than a poem, center-framing a sighing unicorn drooping over empty streets, sky as grey as her hide.

It was always important to take time for family. Queen Haven often had to remind herself of that fact, even as she would acknowledge that it was the most important lesson a pony could learn. But the duties of rulership, and the trappings of celebrity, were all to eager to eat up all the waking time a mare could give, leaving one's daughters in the cold. Worst case scenario, this made them fight over the scraps, and having seen her two precious princesses do that once, she was resolved not to ever give them reason to do so again. Nonetheless, both often found themselves on their own, left to their own devices. In one respect, this was good, since it let them develop autonomy, to the point where they were able to become, in their own way, heroes! On the other hoof, it meant that Haven would sometimes feel herself increasingly distant from her daughters with each passing season... But now they all had something new that they had in common, working wings! And while Haven was by no means so speedy a flier as Zipp, nor so graceful a sky-dancer as Pipp, she found herself alight with joy every time she partook in the birthright of all pegasi, and this was something special she could share with them. Today, she was sharing it with Pipp, on a flight home from Maretime Bay where she'd come to pick her up from a party. "Did you have a good time with your friends?" Haven asked, brightly, for now not a queen, just a mother.

"Bao" nodded at Yanhua's adjustments, before returning to the last finishing touches on Rongyu's disguise. "Eyy, don't forget who we're going as! If it feels wrong, that means it'll look right!" The wink he gave after that sentence was pushing his luck with not getting clocked by his subordinate, and he knew it, but the adrenaline fizzing through his veins was too much for him to keep down! "We'll keep the pig sticker in a little bunker I know of down the road, which is on our way to the old rail line. No first class cars, but it will take us straight to Shenyang port, and we can catch a Sky Junk direct for the south." Feng beamed to see his officer so ready to train his friend. Such attention to duty! She'd have to be commended for that. "Alright, let's not burn any more daylight here, the bright light's are calling, and they're already pulling up the gold paving. Don't want to miss the rush!" ~***~ Felicitously, most of the trip down to Long Kong was uneventful, for the most part. Feng's commitment to stay in character had gotten himself slapped once or twice, to no lasting injury and, what was more important, no suspicion that he was anything other than what he presented as. They all had to book one cabin on the sky-junk down, but Feng had given Yanhua the bed. "Civilians won't be made to sleep on the floor, no like we haven't roughed it before, eh Rongyu?" Most of the time, he had a map of Long Kong out, marking likely spots of interest and memorizing places and routes. "Not that this covers all the side streets and alleys, but at least we won't look like gawping tourists. Sis works on the docks, but we'll have to likely pay a call at her apartment, since she works the outward-facing port, not the one that's riverside facing Long Guo."

"Oh, Silver Spoon is a friend of my daughter. One of the right sort." *Unlike certain other individuals.* But this filly would certainly be a good influence on those two, forging better connections... and it had to be said, that even Spoiled Rich could not stand the thought of a little filly growing up entirely without friends. "I'll have to introduce you to my daughter as well; consider yourself to have an open invitation to Rich Manor." High Bar would likely have as much trouble with the word 'play' as she did with the word 'friend', but both were necessities for little ones.

The conversation seemed to be moving on to more agreeable tones and subjects. Pipp had, of course, taken the time to painstakingly explain the concept of "memes" to her mother, though she repeatedly insisted that Queen Haven not embarrass herself by attempting to make any herself. Which might have been taken as impertinent by a lesser parent, but Queen Haven understood that she could not afford to put herself in public in a capacity she was lacking. That was why Zipp never was made to sing a duet with her sister. "I've rather been out of the loop in that respect." She relaxed a little, letting the crew show off a few memes. Oh, how charming! It reminded her of her own princess days, when hopeful suitors bid for her hoof... it was rather a pity she didn't select for endurance; widowhood is an experience that no royal comforts can soften. "Oh dear, I'm rather dismayed not to see that charmingly rugged stallion who ended up helping me find Pipp and Zipp. Alpha...beta? Bittle! Yes, Alphabittle. He's a little older than most on Klipklop, though." She giggled.