Blueblood

Hm, I've got a couple of characters that I haven't used much that could work as ponies that the group can meet at each location, Flying Brick from Stalliongrad, and Sky Sailing from Cloudsdale (Profiles in Character log)

I've actually been looking for the same thing to test an idea of mine here: http://www.canterlot.com/topic/14503-equestria-908-setting-past/

Let me know if you're interested!

Hello and welcome!

Long Drive's rebuke of Psmith's verbosity rolled off his St. Mareson's jacket like water off wingfeathers, prompting nothing but a smile of slight amusement, and a sigh. "[colour=#996699]I dislike,[/colour]" The unicorn spoke languidly as he limped out of the waiting room with Long Drive in tow, "[colour=#996699]This modern superstition of hurry, bustle, and efficiency. It spoils the temperament and digestion; observe the rudeness and inhospitality in this, the city which never sleeps. And not only does it sour sociability, it spoils sport. To speak purely to communicate, and not to enjoy talking for its own sake, would be like picking up the golf ball and dropping it into the hole. No doubt it saves time, but you would hardly do anything like that comrade."[/colour]

The parallel was, in fact, very apt, given Psmith's cutie mark and corresponding talent. He'd always babbled at length, ever since he was born. The ensuing years had only enforced a grammatical regularity to the words and a refined solemnity to the tone. "[colour=#996699]As for the injury, I sustained it while providing moral support to the school's cricket team. Such are the risks we brave for our loyalties! Ah, but it was a magnificent sight, the bowler careening down the pitch like a windmill in a hurry, the skittering ball duly punished by the blow of the willow bat as the batter sent it sailing towards the boundary... and my wrist, which was honored to be an integral part of such a spectacle." [/colour]He flexed his injured hoof, and winced. "[colour=#996699]I believe, however, that I shall complete my observances from the pavilion.[/colour]"

"[colour=#996699]But now,[/colour]" Psmith turned, feeling that he should allow his acquaintance some chance to speak, "[colour=#996699]Tell me more of your parent's proposed entrepreneurship. I am always game to give what assistance I can to a sportspony.[/colour]"

(Sure thing! http://generic-poizon-dart.deviantart.com/art/Commission-3-Earth-Writer-365344684)

It seemed that the Apple Family's origins weren't quite as clear-cut as Earth Writer thought. "[colour=#8b4513]Huh. I wouldn't have thought being descended from Smart Cookie all that unlikely, though. It was so long ago, there's probably a lot of ponies that can trace their lineage to her in some manner. Of course,[/colour]" He chuckled, remembering, "[colour=#8b4513]Judging from our behavior today, maybe one of us might be descended from Mayor Puddinghead instead.[/colour]"

This remark naturally segued into a discussion of Earth Writer's own family history. "[colour=#8b4513]Hm, well I don't mind telling you. It's a bit too mixed and varied to fit well into an expose, though.[/colour]" He began, tapping his chin. "[colour=#8b4513]My father's side of the family is the unicorn half; we've traced it back to one of the old nobles who went down and settled in the Gallopagos Islands. My grandfather came back to the mainland to teach at one of the universities. I suppose that means there's a title on te registry here we could claim if we cared about it.[/colour]" The stallion shrugged. "[colour=#8b4513]As much fun as it would be to spring it on the snootier portions of this city, it's really more trouble than its worth, as far as I'm concerned.[/colour]"

He had to laugh at the mental image that conjured up, of the reporter being snubbed by the likes of the Upper Crust, until he casually dropped the fact that he was the Duke of Clopacabana. "[colour=#8b4513]As for my mother, she's an Earth Pony rooted in the Heartland, though her ancestors came from practically everywhere, as far as we can tell. I think there might be a zebra in there, but we don't know for sure.[/colour]"

More and more ponies were beginning to crowd around the gate! A dancer had just walked up, and seemingly decided on the spot to accompany them on their tour of the Empire. Not that Earth Writer would have minded, per se, but the crowding in general was giving him a slight case of irrational, nervous excitement.

He tried to walk it out, coming from the gate onto the road, where he heard Heart Healer ask him a question. "[colour=#8b4513]Yep. Was it the hat that tipped you off?[/colour]" He replied with a grin. His hat was more or less part of the "Fleet Street Uniform" that was often seen in Canterlot journalistic circles, though no military pony would have dignified the loose fashion adherence with the title.

Speaking of which... "[colour=#8b4513]Morning, Colonel! Why the long face?[/colour]" It was a little surprising to see an officer of his homeland so far from it, and in full uniform as well! He made a studied contrast with the local guard, and the reporter noted down a few of the key differences in his notebook.

And then there was another tourist, a Miss Harshwinny. Earth nodded to her in greeting. "[colour=#8b4513]This is my first trip myself; already it promises not to be without incident. Good thing, as I'm here for business as much as pleasure.[/colour]"

And now came the locals, all sparkling in the sun. [colour=#8b4513]*How in the wide world of Equestria do they do that?*[/colour] Ever since the Crystal Empire first re-emerged, all kinds of theories and explanations had been put forward by academics and the like, none of which seemed to be attracting anything like consensus. Maddeningly, most of the Crystal Ponies themselves, when asked, generally replied "Why don't you?"

But then, that was part of the fun of being a traveling reporter and geographer. The definition of "Normal" changed depending on where you were.

The stalling greeted the newcomers with a bow, trying to summon all the manner's he'd picked up in Canterlot. "[colour=#8b4513]It is a great pleasure to meet you all. Just to be able to come here is a rare and unexpected privilege for Equestrians.[/colour]" He especially wanted to make a good impression on the guard. There was something about her, not exactly cold, but sharp. Warm, but with a definite edge. [colour=#8b4513]*Like this place, and its crystals.* [/colour] There was something pleasing in the parallel between the Empire and its guard, and it earned her a big smile from him.

The other two mares seemed like more or less ordinary citizens coming to see what all the fuss was about. Ponies were essentially the same everywhere, in that regard.

Right about then, Pathfinder got up and, well, proceeded to be herself. Earth would have recognized her anywhere. "[colour=#8b4513]Now I remember, we met back in Ponyville, back in the line at the kissing booth.[/colour]" He paused, not sure if such things had ever been heard of in the Empire [colour=#8b4513]*Well, that's another thing to put in the article.*[/colour]

[colour=#006400]"So, Crystal Guard, where can I find the Crystal Heart? I have the best idea for a present for my Snowy!"[/colour]

Or there could be an international incident. That could work too.

It had taken the reporter but an instant to put two and two together, and for a second, he thought he was about to witness an arrest, or at least some kind of serious indignation. As it was, she seemed to be mostly concerned with the pegasus' mental state, which was reasonable enough. "[colour=#8b4513]I'd be glad of the company, if you would consent to the tour, and I would also offer my aid in escorting my... fellow countrypony to a place of aid.[/colour]"

He drew out his notebook again. He hadn't been a reporter very long, but he was starting to get a feel for when interesting things were about to happen...

Upon hearing that the apple strudel was indeed a favorite of the chef's, Earth Writer beamed. "[colour=#8b4513]Excellent! I believe that will be all; I had some sugar apples myself.[/colour]" He gave another smile to his date as Greenshot levitated their menus away. In truth, the Stallion probably could have eaten more, but it probably wasn't a good idea to gobble up so many sweets in one day. Besides, it would have been an imposition upon Sugar Apple, and that his chivalry would not stand!

Now that their orders were out of the way, the conversation could go on to other matters, and talk of strudel segued into a discussion of family origins. "[colour=#8b4513]I've heard that the Apple family originally came out of Germaney; I know Granny Smith's brother's from there, at any rate, since he used to visit Ponyville from time to time. You've all certainly branched out-[/colour]" He paused suddenly, realizing what he just said, "[colour=#8b4513]Er, if you'll pardon the pun.[/colour]"

The patchwork was not complicated job, and it was but a few minutes before Psmith came hobbling out of the office, forehoof in a splint. It was a testament to his native gentility that he managed to retain an element of solemn gracefulness in his limping, but the upshot of that was of his injury invoking humor rather than pity in the bystander. He was too dignified to be anything but funny; so much so that a pony might almost suspect that he was doing it on purpose.

A big hint to that effect was his face upon seeing that Babs was no longer there; it bore the look of an actor who has come out to an empty theater. "[colour=#996699]Why, we are bereaved, comrade Long Drive! Has the young beauty of Manehattan, the pick of the apples, deserted us in our time of need? Have our slight friction frayed the thread of friendship to its breaking point? Alas, it seems to be so. Well, we must bear up under these troubles, surel they must have some purpose. Perhaps to make us more grateful of those who remain."[/colour]

With a sigh, he turned to his remaining 'comrade.' "[colour=#996699]I do hope our [/colour][colour=#996699]acquaintance[/colour][colour=#996699] has not proven to be excessively abrasive. This city is stimulating, but more delicate constitutions find it wearing. Fortunately, I enjoy these collisions of wit and temperament, though I sometimes forget that others do not.[/colour]"

(Do you all want to conclude this here? I had a sort of idea that Psmith would volunteer his "services" to Long Drive's parents, but that could easily go into another thread.)

Coincidentally enough, similar thoughts were going through the head of another pony. At least, he hadn't heard of any other reporters who'd made the trip yet. The tan unicorn emerged onto the open platform of the recently-constructed train station. His hooves took the first few steps with a wobbling gait; the high speeds of the train, faster than any heretofore seen in Equestria, had been disorienting to say the least. After a few steps, however, the shakiness had left him, and he was staring at the surrounding countryside in awe.

From here, Earth Writer could see the Crystal Gate, and the harsh northern snows beyond. Nowhere else was such a direct contrast even possible, but the magic in this land could make such marvels almost seem commonplace. Immediately upon sighting it, he levitated a notebook from the pocket of his shirt, and jotted down this first impression.

That was, indeed, the reason he was here. As a reporter who did work for one of the Canterlot Daily Papers, as well as sporadic contributions Equestrian Geographic, naturally when his editor had learned of the new opening of the rail line to the Crystal Empire, he was the one sent to represent the paper and report his impressions. The journalist had suggested a name for the column, which would soon hopefully be a household phrase to readers across the Heartland:

Notes from a Small Empire

[colour=#8b4513]*This first sight will make an excellent first column. Might finish it in time to get it back on the evening train.* [/colour]On this optimistic note, he trotted forward to get a closer look at the gate, cresting a hill just in time to see a pegasus crash into it!

"[colour=#8b4513]Hang On![/colour]" He called out, stowing away his notebook as he galloped towards the fallen mare. He slowed as he approached; there was something mighty familiar about her. He leaned over to get a closer look.

"[colour=#8b4513]Have... we met somewhere before?[/colour]"

Now that my Pegasus musician, Sky Sailing, has been approved, I'd like to stretch his wings, so to speak.

He's not a very famous musician at this point, right now he just plays the opening act for slightly more famous musicians.

I'd like this RP thread to be about that. Does anyone want to be the act he's opening for? Stage crew and audience members are also welcome.

The subject of drinks having become a shared source of humor, Earth Writer was feeling happy, but slightly lightheaded. Part of having to become a more outgoing pony was having one's personal quirks, developed in isolation, up for public discussion. This was a slightly bewildering experience; in the back of his mind, he'd entertained the thought that most ponies mixed drink flavours when they could.

At least, the prospect of putting his money where his mouth was brought no terrors. "[colour=#8b4513]Challenge accepted.[/colour]" He said, returning Sugar Apple's grin.

Greenshot's little remark about in-law's, while obviously at least half-joking, did set the stallion's thoughts along that track. Of course, it was too early to start discussing that, but that didn't stop him thinking as he looked at the blushing mare before him.

There wasn't much time, though, to let his mind wander that road, as the green unicorn returned to take their orders. "[colour=#8b4513]Oh yes, the apple strudel sounds excellent. House specialty, isn't it?" [/colour]That was generally a good rule in his experience, to go with the house specials and the table wines. Even if they weren't necessarily the "best" things in the menu, the chefs took the most care in making them, and often you couldn't get them anywhere else.

(Seriously, though, those mixtures [cola+orange, tea+sprite] really are good.)

It seemed that Long Drive was more interested in Pmsith's musings on Golf itself, rather than any particular social policy that the he might hold relevant to it. But the older colt was not offended, and looked upon the younger with an indulgent eye. Long Drive was partial to his talent, and was simply saying why he enjoyed his favorite game.

Bab's remarks, however, elicited a more direct reply. The lavender unicorn turned with a most solemn expression to face her. "[colour=#996699]Miss Seed,[/colour]" He began, pronouncing the name and title in such a way as to denote a fall from 'Comrade Babs,' "[colour=#996699]It is not intelligence that I say you lack, but politeness, and respect for other ponies.[/colour]" There was something a little more serious at the back of every pony, however foppish, foolish, or frivolous; for Psmith, it was sociability and social graces. He took manners of word and appearance not as an artificial set of arbitrary rules of behavior, but as a ceremonial symbolism of the respect due to all ponies. And Babs' last remark had struck at that sensitive point in him, giving his words a sincerity that was not so apparent in his earlier piffle.

"[colour=#996699]In order to not appear deficient yourself, is it truly necessary that you denigrate the interests of many, and the special talent of the pony right beside you? Such one might expect of the schoolyard bully, but you..." [/colour][colour=#000000]And here he gave a sigh and sad look.[/colour][colour=#996699] "I had thought you were better than that, Comrade."[/colour]

Obviously, Psmith would have had no way of knowing of the recent events in Babs' life that would have increased her sensitivity to his remarks. In truth, he had little time to observe her reaction, since at that point his name was called, and he departed to have his hoof wrapped, leaving the younger colt and filly waiting outside the doctor's office.

Earth Writer shrugged as Greenshot doubted whether the cider would mix well in a milkshake, "[colour=#8b4513]Well, you can't know unless you try, right?[/colour]" He asked, as one who would put a question fairly. The unicorn seemed to be quite unaware of the humorous nature of his statements, looking a bit nonplussed as the waiter walked away.

Looking back at his date, he could see Sugar Apple trying, and failing, to restrain her hilarity. "[colour=#8b4513]What's so funny?[/colour]" He asked, as the pegasus stated that the stallion would have to be the first to try any culinary monstrosity that resulted from his experimentation. It was a suggestion that Earth took in stride. "[colour=#8b4513]Hey, I'm the pony who'll mix together all the drinks in the soda fountain, just to see what it tastes like, and I'll drink it afterwards too. Actually, I've found several rather unlikely combinations that really are quite good. Orange and cola, for instance, or sweet tea and lemon-lime. Almost every drink or dish started out as an experiment, after all. What primal courage filled the first pony to eat a cupcake, we may never know.[/colour]" It was about here that he realized how pretentious he was starting to sound, and he burst out laughing himself.

"[colour=#8b4513]But, yeah, maybe not on a first date.[/colour]" Earth Writer chuckled. "[colour=#8b4513]Speaking of cupcakes, your cousin's got me sold on one; so I think a cider smoothie would be an excellent idea.[/colour]" He set down the menu in the relaxed but decisive manner that comes to anypony making an order in a restaurant.

May I request a pic of my Crossover Character Crazy Horse (Profile Below):

Name: [colour=#282828]Crazy Horse[/colour]

Tribe: [colour=#282828]Earth Pony[/colour]

Mane colour:[colour=#282828] Silver[/colour]

Coat colour:[colour=#282828] Brown[/colour]

Cutie Mark: [colour=#282828]An eye of Horus emblazoned on a Heart[/colour]

Concept:[colour=#282828] A leader of ponies.[/colour]

Caste: [colour=#282828]Zenith[/colour]

Motivation: [colour=#282828]Overthrow the Status Quo Realm[/colour]

Anima: [colour=#282828]A firey Meteor blasting out from the earth[/colour]

Attributes:

[colour=#282828]Strength: 1[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Stamina: 5[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Dexterity: 1[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Charisma: 5[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Manipulation: 5[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Appearance: 1[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Perception: 4[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Intelligence: 2[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Wits: 5[/colour]

Abilities:

[colour=#282828]*War: 3 (Specialty: Improvised Plan)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Integrity: 3[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Performance: 3 (Specialty: Recruitment Speech)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Presence: 3 (Specialty: Bavarian Fire Drill)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Resistance: 2[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Survival: 2[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Investigation: 3 (Specialty: Judge of Character)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Lore: 1[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Linguistics: 3[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Ride: 2[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Sail: 2[/colour]

[colour=#282828]*Socialize: 3[/colour]

Backgrounds:

[colour=#282828]Mentor: 3 (Crazy Horse's father, a Khan of Chiaroscuro, taught him the ways of war on the field, and ways of keeping the peace at home)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Backing: 2 (As a Khan's son, he has access to the troops and resources of his family.)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Contacts: 2 (Crazy Horse is a sociable fellow, and having a well-traveled mother from the Blessed Isles gives him a foot in the door in surprising Places...)[/colour]

Charms:

[colour=#282828]First Presence Excellency[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Irresistible Salesman Spirit[/colour]

[colour=#282828]First War Excellency[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Mob-dispersing rebuke[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Rout-stemming gesture[/colour]

[colour=#282828]First Investigation Excellency[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Judge's Ear Technique[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Courtier's Eye Technique[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Know Soul's Price[/colour]

[colour=#282828]First Performance Excellency[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Respect-commanding attitude[/colour]

Virtues:

[colour=#282828]Compassion: 3[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Temperance: 1[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Valor: 3[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Conviction: 2[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Willpower: 6[/colour]

Merits:

[colour=#282828]Pain Intolerance (5pts)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Improved Join Battle[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Tactical Instincts[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Silver Tongue[/colour]

Flaws:

[colour=#282828]Disfigured (3 pts)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Enemy[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Climate Sensitive (Wintery/cold)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Intimacies:[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Remain Loyal to my People (Positive: 4)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Playing Wall (Positive: 4)[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Harming Innocents (Negative: 1)[/colour]

Languages:

[colour=#282828]Fire Tongue[/colour]

[colour=#282828]River Speak[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Low Realm[/colour]

[colour=#282828]<TBD>[/colour]

History:[colour=#282828] Crazy Horse, a small crooked-looking Earth Pony, was born as the son of a Khan of Chiaroscuro, and a lady of the Blessed Isles. The story of how those two met would make its own epic, but for now, let us say that they were surprisingly well-matched. The city expected much of the son of such a union, but he was born disfigured, and physically crippled; his spine was crooked, and not all of his legs were the same length. In a society ruled by warlords, having such a pony as an heir was considered a disgrace. However, his family did not bow to outside pressure to disown their progeny, instead pushing him to surpass his limitations, and prove the naysayers wrong.[/colour]

[colour=#282828]He was taught the arts of war and ruling by his father, whose own father was son of Alhat, the local god of War; balanced by not a little of civilization and diplomacy by his mother. He developed into quite the charmer, adroit at getting other ponies to follow him. His ability to quickly get together a force, and carry out unconventional plans (the Great Incendiary Cat Plot is still spoken of with a hushed admiration), gained him not a little respect among his peers.[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Unfortunately, the supreme ruler of the city, the Ream Satrap, was most displeased with Crazy Horse. It was bad enough to think that he'd have to deal with a weakling as a Khan's heir, but the insubordinate, irrepressible git he actually turned out to be? No, Crazy Horse had to go.[/colour]

[colour=#282828]So, our hero was sent out to fight the Desert Ponies, a sand-dwelling race of cannibals, with a small force equally comprised of losers who hadn't quite mustered out yet, and soldiers with about as much resentment of authority as their commander. [/colour]

[colour=#282828]Certain death loomed, but then a gray pony, not part of his force, came out of the dust with key intelligence, and Crazy Horse simultaneously came up with a plan of attack based on it, and exalted. The intel and newfound Solar Abilities proved key to squeaking out a victory that day - but he can't remember the name or cutie mark of his mysterious benefactor, and none of his subordinates remember him at all...[/colour]

[colour=#282828]

[/colour]

Earth Writer was quick to forgive the lost opportunity of chivalry, and he gave his lady a warm smile as he took her hoof... which led to a slight amount of awkwardness, when Greenshot offered his own to shake. Perhaps unwisely, the reporter attempted to shake the unicorn's hoof with the one that wasn't holding Sugar Apple's, which led to much stumbling and embarrassed apologies to the both of them. He was blushing again; the whole display might have been cute to an outside observer, if anypony had been paying attention.

"[colour=#8b4513]Ehe, right.[/colour]" Earth Writer managed to recover himself, and lead his date to the table, pulling out the cushion for the pegasus before taking a seat upon his own. He nudged the vase away with his hoof so he could see her clearly across the table, and he caught her delighted expression at the sudden glow of the vase. It made him smile as well.

Greenshot came forward with the menu, which Earth perused as Sugar made her fumbled order. He looked up, with a thoughtful look upon him face, "[colour=#8b4513]Would it be possible... for you to make the milkshakes with[/colour] [colour=#8b4513]the apple cider?[/colour]" He asked, giving Sugar Apple a wink. No reason why she couldn't have everything she wanted, right?

It is a surprisingly delicate operation to languidly lounge with an air of unconcern while one has a sprained hoof. Add in the unsuitable environment of a hospital waiting room, and the fact that the seats managed to feel cramped even when the room wasn't crowded, it was a commendable accomplishment that Psmith managed it. Not without a few uncomfortable squirmings beforehand, and sharp tugs to restore the proper creases in his jacket, it has to be said, but nevertheless, he did.

Having resumed his natural attitude, he resumed his discourse. "[colour=#996699]The aim of Golf, as so dexterously implied by comrade Drive, is not so much activity as leisure. In that, it suits my temperament to the ground. It's lack of physical demand and excitement serves the purpose of relaxation, and as a catalyst for socialization. It is awkward to ask a stranger if they will take a walk with you, but quite easy to ask, 'Do you play Golf?' A good principle of life to remember, comrade Babs, is that if something bores you, that is only because you have not understood its true purpose.[/colour]"

Pausing for a moment to let the philosophic point sink in, the unicorn began on a more practical tack. "[colour=#996699]In any case, the leisure of one implies the labor of another, and we are most pleased to hear of your parents' dedication to the cause. As a matter of principle, all good things must be made available to the entire public, and not just the province of the rich. The country clubs serve a small market, but a wider customer base is won by the believer in social equality. You know,[/colour]" he mused, having seized upon an idea, "[colour=#996699]As a socialist, its practically my solemn duty to support such efforts, and I shall do so![/colour]" He sat up, eyes animated as he looked at the golfing colt. "[colour=#996699]Psmith is at your service, sir, as soon, of course, as the medical professionals do their good work.[/colour]"

Sweet Blintze's shop had impressed Earth Writer favorably from the start, mainly due to its unpretentiousness. Sure, the building itself was not without elegance, being made of the white marble that Canterlot was famous for, but there was nothing about the place that suggested an effort to attract the upper-class. It simply was what it was, a particularly good cafe by the park, open to all who would make the walk over here.

Of course, even the smart set enjoy a good pastry, and they seemed to be out in force today. It was enough to make most anypony self-conscious, but thankfully most of the pairs in the restaurant had better things to look at than another couple coming in.

Sugar Apple had gotten ahead of him, and was the first to open the door. The unicorn followed in, jesting, "[colour=#8b4513]And here I thought it was my job to hold open the doors...[/colour]" Following the pegasus in, he waved to Greenshot as well. "[colour=#8b4513]Hope you'll forgive the wait; we got a little, hm, distracted on the way over.[/colour]" He said, smiling at the mare beside him.

The quiet bustle of the cafe surrounded them, the clinking of silverware, the murmur of the couples, various sounds from the kitchen, all blending with the smells to create an atmosphere indefinably wonderful. [colour=#8b4513]*Note to self: Mention this cafe in next Saturday's column.*[/colour]

Oh, alright then. In case it wasn't obvious, I was basing this character off of a musician I really admire, who has that same disability.

I'll get right on the changes!

Roleplay Type: World of Equestria

Name: Sky Sailing

Sex: Male

Age: Young Stallion

Species: Pegasus

Eye colour: A dark maroon[colour=#660033] (#660033)[/colour]

Coat: Sky Blue [colour=#33ffff](#33ffff)[/colour]

Mane/Tail: Both are a dark brown ([colour=#663300]#663300); [/colour]His mane has grown long bangs in the front, that hang over his eyes if he doesn't comb them over and hold them up with a hat of some kind.

Physique: Relatively fit, given that he's had to do quite a bit of heavy lifting in the Cloudsdale cold storage warehouses.

Residence: North side of Cloudsdale, in a neighborhood close to the warehouse district.

Occupation: Recording artist, with a day job as a stock-colt at the cold storage in Cloudsdale

Cutie Mark: A Paper Airplane with a musical note on it's wing

History:

Early Life - Sky Sailing was born in the pegasus town of Cloudsdale, son of a mechanic and a waitress. His father ran his shop out of his house and basement, which would often get cluttered with the detritus of his work. While Sky's family was living in a more or less blue collar neighborhood, the nature of cloud architecture meant that they were never short of space for expansion. Thus, he grew up in a clutter of discarded machinery of all description, since his father had a broad area of expertise in fixing things.

From an early age, Sky Sailing never could get to sleep. Whenever he went to bed, his brain would just buzz inside his skull, throwing out random thoughts, half-formed images and half-remembered events, which simply would not let him drop off. This left him going through the day, and night, with very few hours of rest. Thus, the young colt often had a dreamy, half-asleep air about him, as if he wasn't quite sure if what he was seeing was a dream or not. This affected his flying style, as it tended to be more gliding and tacking to the wind than any active propulsion from his wings, hence he lived up to his name.

He was one of the shy ones in his class, introverted and gently spoken. That's not to say he didn't have friends, its just that he generally had to meet other ponies while doing something else before he was comfortable enough around them to open up. Most of his friends in early life were from the school choir, one of the few clubs he joined of his own volition, just because he loved music.

Cutie Mark Story - Sky Sailing had actually narrowed down what he wanted to do pretty early, in that he wanted to be able to make music. His parents were not sure what to make of this, neither of them being musical, and having deep suspicions about the ability of their son to support himself should he decide on this career path.

Nevertheless, they did what they could. Among the many bits and pieces left lying around the house were an old keyboard and recording equipment, which Sky's father decided to let him fix alongside him after hours. While he may not have known how to play them himself, he could at least teach his son how they worked, and since Sky didn't sleep much anyway, he had time after school to tinker with them, and teach himself how to play.

It took a while to save up enough pocket-money to buy instructional books on how to actually play the keyboard (it involved using his wingfeathers to press the keys), and the rest he had to figure out on his own. Nevertheless, he stuck to it, learning by trial and error how sound balancing and multi-tracking worked, and eventually he managed to record his own song. It was technically electronica, but it resembled his flying style, in that it had a dreamy, etherial quality to it, taking the listener along like a wing carried by the breeze. It was what he wanted to communicate to the world with it, and once he felt he'd accomplished that, his cutie mark appeared on his flank.

Later Life - In between working on his music, he finished his schooling, and had to find himself a job to support himself, his parents being quite big on the work ethic. He eventually got a job in the Cloudsdale cold storage warehouses, which took advantage of the fact that the snow production at the weather factory required low temperatures, which could also be used for keeping things fresh. The job required heavy lifting, but not much delicate work, which meant that Sky could save whatever lucidity he could salvage from his few hours of sleep to spend on his music.

The amount of effort he put into both actually helped him feel more tired, and added an hour or two to his amount of sleep, but still not more than four at the most. This would explain the sometimes odd and whimsical turns his lyrics sometimes took.

He eventually put together a full album on his own, which he felt satisfied enough with to share with his friends, who all liked it, and made copies to distribute to the other ponies they knew. Eventually, a few requests for live gigs came in, which Sky was willing to do, though he attended them all wearing a flight mask out of residual shyness. eventually, this became part of his stage persona.

Many of his friends say its only a matter of time before a studio picks him up, but for now, a lot of blue-collar days are spent in work, crafting, and dreaming...

Character Summary: While Sky Sailing isn't as shy and retiring as he used to be, he still retains some elements of his early days. Thankfully, this applies to the positive as well as the negative; he's soft-spoken, but very sweet-tempered, and just a plain nice stallion once you get to know him. He's still pretty much a non-sleeper, dreaming and drifting mentally through the daylight hours (which has more than once led to an accident or two; thankfully his supervisors are understanding ponies).

He's maintained his long days from his early colthood, as well, working in the day, and spending the night hours in music, whether recording in his basement, or playing at live shows in cafes, or as a local opening act. He's actually rather perfectionist in his craft, which he gets from his father. He never describes his songs as "finished" per se, only "abandoned."

Likes - Dressing up nice in a shirt and tie, music, Ice cream sandwiches, opening for acts he really admires

Dislikes - Being caught up in a loud and bustling crowd, lying awake in bed when his brain won't let him sleep, cabbage

Earth Writer was grateful that Greenshot had been so considerate in setting up a table for them; an indefinite reservation on Hearts and Hooves day was practically unheard of, unless one happened to personally know the ponies running the place. It wouldn't do to abuse this hospitality, of course.

Nevertheless, Earth and Sugar kept a relaxed pace as they set off. The parkside streets rewarded a leisurely pace with a very nice panorama of sights and smells, as the early-blooming spring plants' fragrance streamed by on the breeze. "[colour=#996600]I have traveled this way before, though I hadn't looked up Sweet Blintze's before meeting your cousin. It's not that far, just around the corner of the perimeter street of the park.[/colour]"

(We going to invite Greenshot in?)

Psmith listened to Long Drive's story with patience. His own opinion on the matter differed considerably from Babs', and of course he was not shy about saying it out loud. "[colour=#996699]Ah, a right shame, comrade Drive. I'm too much of a duffer myself to justify paying club dues, but I do rather enjoy the game itself all the more. Such trifles as winning and losing affect not the enjoyment of an amateur; it is the game itself we love, unrequited as our affections may be. Alas, so many of my class lack the philosophic mind. They seek to win, and do not believe that they win unless they can make somepony else lose. I am sure, Comrade Babs, that your own experience with the upper class will bear this out. It is my opinion that- ah! But we have arrived. My deepest gratitude to you, Comrade Babs, I think I should be able to walk from here.[/colour]"

The hospital was a sturdy building in red brick, signaling its purpose towards the world with a Caduceus emblazoned on a red cross. Psmith approved of the heraldry, and, pausing for a moment to flick road dust off himself, entered with as much stateliness as a pony could while on only 3 legs. The nurse at the front desk, a middle-aged mare with a keen eye, assessed him at once and sent him to one of the chairs in the waiting room. The unicorn took a seat, before signaling to his two friends. "[colour=#996699]There is room enough for you, if you wish to continue our stimulating little chat.[/colour]"

Ashens, PeanutButterGamer, CubixFails, and a couple more I can't recall now.

Wait, what letter?