Blueblood

Earth Writer gave an apologetic look for having disturbed the purple pegasus' nature watch, though he couldn't help but wonder why a racer would stop to deer watch in the middle of a race. He shrugged inwardly, it didn't really matter at this point. As she asked about the griffon which had barreled through her on the bridge, the reporter pursed his lips. "[colour=#8b4513]I'm afraid I don't know much about her, so anything you can find out would be a help." [/colour]He then motioned a hoof to beckon his purple unicorn companion closer. [colour=#8b4513] "And this is Clockwise! He got knocked into the brook when that griffon charged through." [/colour]He briefly wondered if that would put him too much on the spot for his comfort, but then the stallion reflected that he was going to write his story into a newspaper article, which would be even more public. [colour=#8b4513]*Well, if he folds now, I'll see if I can't just edit out the account. I don't want to embarrass the poor fellow too much.*[/colour] Sugar Apple, of course, couldn't stay long; after she gave her goodbyes, she galloped off, with Earth Writer shouting encouragement. [colour=#8b4513]"I know you'll make us proud!"[/colour] Speaking of "us"... Earth Writer smiled as Greenshot indicated that he could walk unassisted. "[colour=#8b4513]No trouble at all! Glad to see you're walking under your own power, at least." [/colour]It would make progress a lot easier later, when less accommodating terrain could be expected. Hopefully, at any rate; overcoming obstacles would be what gave this story power! Filled with these happy thoughts, the journalist trotted easily alongside the hobbled Apple family member.

[colour=#8b4513]"Right-o, then, Clockwise."[/colour] It wasn't so much absent-mindedness as it was genuine unconsciousness that led Earth Writer to not press the purple unicorn for his credentials. After all, they were hardly relevant to his place in the race. As for the awkward stallion's other question, he had a ready answer. [colour=#8b4513]"They all like good stories. Dramatic rescues always make good copy, especially if the pony rescued doesn't let his spill discourage him, you know? Pluck and perseverance, that's the ticket!" [/colour]The unicorn noticed with bemusement just how much his patterns of speech had been affected by his few years in Canterlot. You'd have hardly believed he grew up in the same town as, say, Applejack. He winced sympathetically as Clockwise crashed into Sugar Apple, but his attention was currently taken by the Apple cousin that had a relatively more severe injury. "Don't worry about me," He was telling the concerned Greenshot. [colour=#8b4513]"I'm not here to win the race, I'm here to get a story for the papers. And this is a great angle! Injured pony refusing to let circumstances force him to surrender, tying it into a loyalty to tradition and family..." [/colour]The reporter gave a whistle. "[colour=#8b4513]Yeah, I'm not missing out on that.[/colour]" He watched as Hoss gave a temporary bandaging to Greenshot's injured leg, not leaving the scene just yet. [colour=#8b4513]"You know, if you're running the rest of this three-legged, it would really help if you had someone to lean against. Tell you what; I'll stick with you, just in case we run into some other obstacle like the river. You'll probably need the help then." [/colour] He nodded towards Sugar Apple. [colour=#8b4513]"Don't worry about me; someone's got to make sure they got all the leaves down. Just get a view from the front of the line, OK Sugar? I'll pick it up when I meet you at the finish."[/colour] He gave a wink to the Pegasus as he assisted the green unicorn in getting to his hooves.

The little detour Earth Writer had taken for safety had, predictably, cut into his time. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to have dropped from the bottom of the top pack to the top of the middle. [colour=#8b4513]*Not a bad phrase, though; the article progresses, as does the race.*[/colour] Well, whatever hurdles would come later for the reporter, the biggest hurdle in the race, the weather, seemed to have passed. Or one could say that the ponies had passed the bad weather, that he would leave up to the editor. The unicorn shook as he entered the clearing, partly from the chills coming from the water evaporating off his skin, and partly because he could finally shake off the volume of rainwater that had collected in his mane and tail. [colour=#8b4513] *Oh, sweet Celestia, to be dry again!* [/colour]Indeed, the sun had come out, and the stallion now was entering the forest clearing, where he could feel the full strength of the rays. For at least a few minutes, he felt no fatigue, so great was the relief. As his hooves pounded along the trail, he heard the ringing of a little bell, which momentarily confused him until he encountered a purple unicorn, wearing a hat with a bell. Not the most athletic of wear, but then this unicorn didn't look the most athletic of ponies. Then Earth Writer recognized him; this was the unicorn who'd fallen into the brook! He cantered over to the rescuee, calling out, [colour=#8b4513]"Oy, glad to see you're doing alright after that little spill, Mr...?[/colour]" He trailed off expectantly, to give enough time for the stallion to give his name. [colour=#8b4513]"Would you mind telling me about the experience? I'm a reporter, and I'm looking to make a story out of this event."[/colour] It was but a minute before the pair of unicorns encountered the pair of Apple cousins. "[colour=#8b4513]Hello, Sugar! Glad to see you made it over the bridge alright! Oh..."[/colour] Earth Writer hailed the pegasus, before seeing the green unicorn laid out on the ground. [colour=#8b4513]"Ouch, sprained your ankle, eh? Are you going to sit the rest of the race out, or try to push through after the helper bandages you?"[/colour] There was concern in his voice as he approached, though a part of his mind was still documenting all of this for his article.

It was only because the ground was so littered with leaves that Earth Writer could get any traction with his hooves at all, and even then he couldn't stop himself from skidding a couple of yards before finally coming to a stop near the rope swing. He just stood by the swollen banks of Bubbling Brook for a few seconds, panting for breath after his slapdash sprint. [colour=#8b4513]*One good thing about this rain: I can just look up and get a drink.* [/colour]There was little time to dwell on thirst. The unicorn shook the thought from his mind, and looked up at the rope swing, levitating it closer with his magic. It was a very sturdy specimen of rope, securely knotted to a live and limber tree, and having more large knots near the end to provide a hoof-hold for ponies using it. *If I grabbed on to the last knot, my tail would reach into the water, and then he could grab it. Not the best of plans, but it will do.* Having made a plan of action, he looked back upstream to the events upon the bridge. He sighed in relief to see that Sugar Apple had made it across the bridge, which amazingly had not yet born the full brunt of a flash flood. As for the unicorn that had fallen into the water, the pegasus racer who'd dived into rescue him had received assistance from another racer, yet another unicorn by the looks of it. Earth Writer felt slightly foolish as he saw Ember secure Hoss' rope with a stake. [colour=#8b4513]*Such a simple idea. I should have thought of that, rather than rushing over here without even a half-baked plan.*[/colour] It was while he was reflecting upon this that Greenshot Apple suddenly rushed up and swung across the brook. Earth Writer only barely disengaged his magic before it pulled him into the water, which only made him feel even more foolish. Far from being a rescuer, he was only one or two steps away from being a liability! [colour=#8b4513]*At least nopony drowned. That's the important thing, right?* [/colour]It was, yes, but the stallion's pride was still smarting as he swung across himself. He couldn't quite manage the momentum, so he had to use his "levitation" on a secure tree branch on the opposite bank to help pull himself over the rushing waters far enough to drop safely along the bank. He trotted away from the site at a much more sedate pace than he'd approached it with, looking back over his shoulder just in case anypony else fell in the water.

(OOC: Earth Writer will be bucking the trend by not taking the bridge.) Oh, how things could change in a few minutes! The gentle drizzle that had dampened the racers as they pounded hooves through Sweet Apple Acres had failed to to do the same to their spirits, and now the heavens seemed spurred on by everypony's defiance to new efforts. It galled Earth Writer to admit it, but they seemed to be succeeding. First, there was the embarrassing incident of the apples. [colour=#8b4513]*Or Apples. Make note for the printers, capital letter is warranted.* [/colour]Of course, the stallion should have known the fruits weren't free. He really had been away from his foalhood home too long if he'd forgotten that Applejack and her family grew those apples to sell. He didn't blame Sugar Apple, she was family to Applejack, and free apples were probably her birthright, provided she didn't take them by the bushel. The unicorn groaned at the memories that triggered. The humiliation of having inadvertently stolen apples was compounded by the fact that the last time Earth Writer had met Applejack, he had been kissing her (long story). When she'd confronted him about it, he could barely bring himself to meet her eyes when he'd handed over the bits, stuttering out an apology. He probably looked like an idiot, talking to her, which put the cap on it. Sugar Apple had to have seen it, of course. She may have been near the front of the pack, but Earth Writer hadn't been too shabby in keeping up. After that whole incident, though, he really didn't feel up to talking with her. Public humiliation does put a damper on sociability. [colour=#8b4513]*And speaking of damper...* [/colour]Earth Writer had given up on shaking the water from his drenched mane. That was the second thing bringing him down; being soaked wasn't too bad for a pony, if they weren't wearing anything. But having that cloth number strapped to his back was now about as uncomfortable as a set of wet clothes, and he couldn't take it off until the end of the race. And it itched. All in all, it was not a happy unicorn that came into the third leg of the race. It was only the sound of running water that brought him out of the blue funk he'd been caught in. Now, it didn't take a geographer to figure out that this double storm system far exceeded the normal amount of precipitation the Bubbling Brook usually carried. It was already overlapping the banks, and the usual bridge was not going to be safe. [colour=#8b4513]"Oh, thank Celestia."[/colour] Earth Writer gasped in relief as he caught site of the rescue pegasi. They'd apparently just finished a safer route over the flooding brook. That was fine by him; he was not going to risk drowning for the sake of athletic glory. He was about to call his plan ahead to Sugar Apple when- “[colour=#4b0082]Stand aside, y’all! [/colour][colour=#4b0082]AH’M ALSO COMIN’ THROUGH![/colour]” Oh, there she was, charging over the bridge in pursuit of one of the griffon runners. [colour=#8b4513]"Are you crazy!?"[/colour] Earth Writer yelled out over the storm, worry and water plastered over his face. [colour=#8b4513]"That sucker's gonna flood, and fast!"[/colour] He had to think quickly, faster than he ran, at any rate. He couldn't catch up with her, and it probably wouldn't do much good if he did, given that she was on the bridge already. He hadn't got any wings, so it wasn't as if he could become an impromptu rescue pony, like the one just ahead of him. [colour=#8b4513]*Only one thing to do.*[/colour] The stallion set a determined expression as he veered towards the secured path, calling out. [colour=#8b4513]"I'll catch any you miss downstream!"[/colour] And now Earth Writer was running flat-out, scrambling to get to the rope swing before the inevitable flood rushed over the bridge. As for what he'd do when he got there- [colour=#8b4513]*I'll figure something out.*[/colour] And with that thought, he bent his head forward and put on an extra burst of speed.

Which of the numbers was luck, and which was based on RP quality? It might help for those of us looking for feedback.

"[colour=#8b4513]A weather factory mare? Well,[/colour]" Earth Writer chuckled, "[colour=#8b4513]Seems your family has a hoof in all aspects of the business.[/colour]" It made sense, of course, he thought as he finished his apple. If one wanted to grow the best apples in all of Equestria, no detail could be spared from care. In fact, the Apple family could be thought of as a huge brain trust, with experts in all different disciplines working together towards the common goal of apple farming. If the apple he just ate was any indication, the system worked very well. [colour=#8b4513]*Pity I could never get that kind of collaboration at school. Too much intellectual primma donna-ism.* [/colour]The thought was a rueful one; the stallion hadn't much liking for group work in the first place, and that probably didn't help much. A few sodden leaves would not be so easily dislodged from the unicorn's mane as they were from the trees, no matter how hard he stomped. Eventually, he just gave up on that, and returned to the conversation. It was always good to get endorsement from a stranger, and a little help along the way. "[colour=#8b4513]Will... do.[/colour]" He breathed in response to Sugar Apple's advice. He was glad of the break in the conversation made by Greenshot, talking and running at the same time were a little wearing to Earth Writer. The pegasus' nonchalance in the face of harsh weather was probably understandable, though the stallion had some doubts on whether it was wise. On the other hand, she would be better informed of what best to do in this situation. "In that case," He said as he emerged back on to the path. "[colour=#8b4513]I'll stick with the expert in the field.[/colour]" He flashed a grin at her, but did not talk further. He felt like just cruising now, talking later when he had a reserve of endurance built up.

[colour=#8b4513]*It's going to be a long run.*[/colour] Earth Writer thought to himself as he shook droplets of water from his black mane and tail. [colour=#8b4513]*It's going to be a lot easier if I have someone to run alongside.*[/colour] The unicorn was grateful, then, when Sugar Apple let him catch up. The pace wasn't so strenuous, so they could talk without it being a strain. "[colour=#8b4513]Pleased to meet you too. I take it you're one of Applejack's cousins?[/colour]" Anyone who'd spent any time in Ponyville always remembered the Apple Family reunions. They weren't always held at Sweet Apple Acres, but often enough for any inhabitants to get an impression of the size of the clan. Having given his name as Earth Writer, the stallion went on to answer her question. "[colour=#8b4513]At the moment, I work for whoever buys my articles; I'm hoping to eventually get a berth on Equestria Geographic, or one of the Dailys that has a large travel budget. I don't just want to see the world, I want to tell everyone about what you can find in it![/colour]" He jerked his head towards the trees. "[colour=#8b4513]Like this place! Only place in Equestria that every kind of apple can grow at once, even the magical ones.[/colour]" Thwap! A wet wad of leaves smacked Earth right in the face, and he sputtered for a bit as he ran along, trying to shake them off. "[colour=#8b4513]Leaves are coming down, alright.[/colour]" He could feel something like static electricity tingling all around him, when out in the distance a bolt of lightning came down. He gave a low whistle as he moved closer to the trees. "[colour=#8b4513]I think this may make for quite an exciting story...[/colour]"

Despite the inherently embarrassing situation he'd found himself in, Earth Writer felt comfortable around Sugar Apple. She had a kind of sweetness and charm about her. The stallion probably would have connected it to her name, if he'd known it. At any rate, the pegasus wasn't so focused on going forward that she couldn't stop to help a down-on-his-luck reporter. He smiled at her as she gave out her family words of wisdom. [colour=#8b4513]"Can I quote you on that?" [/colour] He asked playfully as he paused to gather the four apples that dropped by him. Of course, he ought to have known that before, but he'd forgotten a lot of things about this place since he'd moved to Canterlot... [colour=#8b4513]*Well, no better way to remember them to be a part of this.* [/colour] Earth thought, as he sped up to a canter to catch the purple pegasus. He found now, despite the cold dampness that promised further soaking, that he was almost thoroughly enjoying himself. Scarfing down his first apple, he stowed the others away for later, nodding at a green unicorn, another Apple family member, as he cantered past. After a few minutes, he was in range to talk with the pegasus mare again. [colour=#8b4513]"Didn't catch your name, by the way. I'm Earth Writer. What's yours?"[/colour]

Thanks a lot! Mind if I use it for my avatar?

Changed the wording to reflect a more protective tone. And what was that about a telephone?

When the skies are gray and sodden, and the ground darkened and wet, fall foliage is not the feast to the eye it ought by all rights to be. Earth Writer felt somewhat disappointed as he first started the race. The unicorn had begun at a jogging pace, first to conserve energy, and second to be able to see the trees before they were finally de-leafed. In addition to being disappointed in that respect, he was now also wet, and he knew he wouldn't be in any position to dry himself until the end of the race. For the seventeenth time, he'd regretted the mad impulse which had made him join this event. As he approached Sweet Apple Acres, though, something changed. His other senses started to unfold, and bring sensations quite as delightful as seeing the brilliant leaves. Earth could feel the deep rumbling of hundreds of hooves that vibrated in his bones as much as the trunks of the trees; he could smell the apple-soaked electrical air, which told of Zap Apples that could only grow here in this place. [colour=#8b4513]*Ooh, that is not a bad introduction; I must remember that when I write the story.* [/colour] The editors always loved a life interest story, and Earth knew how to make a place come alive through words. And now he was coming into the heart of the orchards, the trees tended by ponies nestled between the wilder specimens of the White Tail and Everfree Forests. There were stands here, selling beverages to ponies who were racing; but you had to wait in line to get a drink. The concept puzzled Earth Writer, and he mulled on it as he jogged past. [colour=#8b4513]*Those who'd need it the most, the hard-pushing type, would be exactly the sort not to stop for refreshment.* [/colour]Another reflection for the article, he supposed. He wondered if he ought to stop to get an interview. Ultimately, he decided against it. If he stopped now, he might lose all motivation to start again. He pushed on, and tried to put apples out of his mind. That was a mistake. Before, simply the lightning-tinged scent of them had lingered in the back of his mind, but active pursuance of the thought soon caused it to blossom and bear fruit. He remembered his foalhood days in this town, how the apples were always the best, and everyone knew it. Firm, juicy, sweet or tart according to what kind they were, but all paragons of their name. His stomach joined his mind, growling that he had long ago finished breakfast, and that it was now time for a snack. The tag-team did a number on Earth Writer's resolve, and he compromised, determining to snatch an apple as he passed by a likely tree. He was no Apple Family member himself; the ways of Applebucking were a mystery to him. But that was alright; it wasn't like he needed the whole tree's fruit to fall, right? Just one. He snagged a fruit as it passed by his vision with his magic, but it held tighter than the unicorn had previously thought. There was a sudden tug, and suddenly the tan stallion had all hooves shoot out from under him, and he landed flat on his back, right next to a light purple pegasus, who had a spare apple with her. [colour=#8b4513]"Guess that shows me not to be in too much of a hurry, eh?"[/colour] He smiled weakly as he got to his hooves again to trot alongside her. "[colour=#8b4513]Er, could you spare a hungry reporter an apple?[/colour]"

You're not familiar with the Jeeves and Wooster series by PG Wodehouse? I kind of based Psmith on a character from that kind of Edwardian-England setting. They're really good books on their own account; check them out. Um, if you don't understand the reference, just keep in mind that he's an English/Philosophy guy, not a math/logic guy. Like I said, not inclined to chess, but to diplomatic negotiation, which is more his forte. He tries to be humorous and clever when he talks, but he's always a little long-winded. That's what I'm trying to get across here. Sorry if all of this gets a little frustrating; I know its not always easy writing for someone else's characters.

Hm, yes, that is a little better, though I still don't know about Psmith. He's not so much a polysyllabic nerd as much as a wordy young aristocrat. More of a monocle than a pair of glasses. Not the sort to suggest a chess match off-hand. Think... Bertie Wooster with enough of a brain to not require Jeeves.

Thanks for understanding. I didn't want to nitpick; you're the author, not me. Still, as I know Psmith, he's the sort that would probably add some droll commentary to the sudden hoof-wrestling match in front of him, and probably have tried to verbally score off on Steel Hoof before hand. And to be perfectly honest, the bully does have this to say for himself: Psmith can be annoying, and it might be helpful to show that.

I... kind of expected Psmith to talk a lot more, to be honest. You've got Might down pretty well near how I've pictured him, but Psmith... Well, here's an example of how I play him. (Probably should have linked you to this sooner).

Um, hm, I was going to suggest "Enter Psmith," but that's kind of been taken already.

Guard of what, actually? I know you were probably thinking royal guard, but you might want to try exploring alternate forms of guarding, especially if you're working on the fame aspect. Bodyguard for a noble or celebrity, for instance, or the sergeant-at-arms for a well-known judge.

Thanks!

Well, to start off this thread, I'd like a story about how Wordsworth Psmith first met his friend Might Batsman (both my OC's). They'd be at boarding school, and Psmith (He always prefers ponies to use his last name) would probably drag Might into a situation of escalating weirdness, all the while keeping a kind of whimsical detachment about the business. I don't know what the plot would be, probably about trying to claim the dorm study lounge as his own personal room, or starting a Socialist Society to stir things up. In any case, both of them would have been sent from schools they liked better, so neither of them would care very much about what this school though of them. A kind of early P.G. Wodehouse kind of story, is what I'm trying to say.

And... done!

[colour=#8b4513]*What the hay am I doing here?*[/colour] It would be fairly accurate to say that Earth Writer was feeling outclassed as he waited at the finishing line. Athletics were not his forte, it was easy to tell that at a glance. True, the frugal diet and long walks imposed by his new career as a journalist had kept him on some level of conditioning, but long distance running? The unicorn stallion sighed. It had sounded like such a good idea in his head, too. The Running of the Leaves followed immediately after the Harvest Festival in Ponyville, and he'd been visiting his parents for the holidays. It had been a good year for the family, and in the midst of the celebrations, Earth decided, in a fit of good mood, to get his name in for the Running of the Leaves. It had sounded like fun, and at least some good copy for the papers back in Canterlot could be gotten out of it, right? But now, with all the athletes around him, Earth Writer began to realize the magnitude of the task now set before him. Not just the physical task, either; this was an important part of the seasonal transition. He shrank instinctively from the good-natured joshing being bandied about by some of the other contestants; he felt somehow that they were an aspersion cast upon his right to be there. *Easy, get a hold of yourself. It's not like you're the first amateur to run this course; they need all the hooves they can get, after all.* Shaking the fit of the blues from himself, the stallion stepped as smartly as he could manage up to the starting line. He listened with a reporter's keenness to the announcer's weather report. "[colour=#8b4513]Ah,[/colour]" he muttered to himself, "[colour=#8b4513]This might make for a very good story.[/colour]" With that thought in his head, he readied his legs, storing tension in the muscles to spring him off as soon as the announcer shouted "[colour=#0000ff]Go![/colour]" Or rather, blew his whistle. Earth Writer took off, though by no means as speedily as some of the more experienced runners.

Say, if you've got an OC slot open, could you do one of [colour=#0000ff]Wordsworth Psmith[/colour]? The reference Pic in the profile itself is not very good, I used Pony Creator for it, and it didn't have the manestyle or clothing options I pictured for him. So, I'd kind of like something better! Here are some human!Psmith Drawings that show more how I'd pictured his manestyle and dapper sense of dress (and some of his personality, as well):

Yeah, I'm going to be working on his history tonight.

It was with the wearied gait of the long-traveling pilgrim that Wordsworth Psmith approached Nightmare Moon's Monument. He felt no particular need to deposit any candy before the statue; he'd met the Queen of Terror herself, and graciously deposited one of his own chocolate bars at her hooves already. It was, therefore, as an art critic that he studied the statue. "[colour=#996699]It really is a good likeness.[/colour]" He remarked to whoever was standing beside him. The colt was too tired to bother checking. "[colour=#996699]I wonder how it ever came to be known that she had a sweetooth. I'd really like to hear the story of the first lucky foal who found that candy made a suitable payment. There should be a statue of that foal, put up by a grateful population for great services rendered. Ah, but that is life.[/colour]" He sighed, patting the inner pocket where his candybag used to be. "[colour=#996699]One seems to remember the villains so clearly. It is little wonder that Princess Luna has had some trouble living down her reputation. Of course, it may have been worse if there had been no Nightmare Night. How would it be to have to introduce yourself as Princess Celestia's sister, when no one had any memory of you? On the whole, I should not like to have tried it.[/colour]"