Tempest Rime

Meh, I already waited a few months, what's two more weeks. Or even 3. They'll air them when they air them, and any extra time they spend polishing them up can only make them that much better.

I... um... I can't think of a single thing to brag about. That's kinda depressing.

Psh, I can't be bothered to read all these posts.

Rarity is the best, and she doesn't need your crass all-caps 24 point fonts to make her point. It's just a fact.

And that's how Equestria was made.

Mehh, FiM started to go downhill in season 37. Fortunately, the 8 spinoff shows are still good.

Ha, Itaily, I like it!

"Of course," said Pinkie. "You gotta get a penalty punishment when you mess up a practical joke. It's the rules." She grinned at Dark's reaction to the cookies. "Woo! I'm glad you like them. Anyway..." She reached out and pulled a loose part of the rope, causing the entire mess to untangle immediately and free him immediately, in spite of her earlier inability to free herself. "I don't think I can sell the cookies until I get permission from the Cakes, but if you want to hang around, I'll make another batch while I'm testing my other ideas. I might even stumble across another good one while we wait." There was another ding from a second oven, and Pinkie's ears perked up. "That's the cupcakes!" She opened the oven and a blast of foul green smoke rushed out, filling the room. Pinkie was overcome with coughing for a moment. "Oh, oh, it's bad!" She grabbed a pot holder and picked up the tray, rushing outside where the smoke would dissipate faster. All the while, the cupcakes were still belching out smoke. "Augh, why are they still smoking?" She ran back in and grabbed a bucket of water, which she brought back out and poured over the tray, but even that didn't seem to stop the clouds of smoke emanating from it. In fact, it seemed to start belching out even faster. "Stop it! Oh no, Dashie's gonna be mad at meeee!" Already the smoke was starting to float up into the sky, marring the otherwise perfectly cloudless sky.

Mal laughed again. "You know, the more you do that, the more it'll hurt. And the longer it'll take to heal." The nurse finally had enough of Mal's jibes. "Miss, please, you definitely seem to be of sound mind, and your injury was not severe. You're clear to go, so please do so now. Heckling injured ponies is not something we look well on." "Ooooh, you don't look well on it, huh? Well gee, you really told me." Mal stood up and sneered at the nurse. "Thanks for the look over, I guess, but I did say there was nothing wrong." She rolled her eyes at the angry look the nurse gave her in response. "Whatever. Oh, Dixie, If you're ever in Canterlot and find yourself in need of a locksmith for some reason, look me up. I'm gonna head home, it's a long walk back. Oh right," she said, forgetting her earlier precaution against telling the earth pony her name. "My name's Malediction. Mal for short, if you want."

Malediction muttered obscenities as she stalked angrily through the woods, her way lit only by a thin wisp of green flame that sputtered and flared up with each curse. She'd been on another lore-seeking trip into the dark forest, but had lost her way, and now it was dark, and the miserable forest seemed to be plotting against her at every turn. Whenever she though she'd found her way back out, she ran into a thicket of briars, or a sheer cliff that had been concealed by overgrowth, or simply found a path that had twisted around into uselessness. There hadn't even been the welcome chance of pace that a good monster attack would have brought. The woods had been remarkably calm, and the irritating sounds of nature all around her served only to further grate on her mental state. Mal didn't relish the thought of sleeping overnight in the woods, but it wouldn't have been the first time she had done so. She turned from her pointless meanderings at last to look for somewhere to shelter for the night, not noticing the soft glow that was emanating from not far off. Almost immediately, she tripped over a lump of wet leaves, sticking up out of the forest floor. She cursed and called upon her magic, sending a lance of green flames into the lump, but rather than the satisfying incineration of the obstacle that had thwarted her, she felt her magic ground out. Something down there was warded against her magic? Mal intensified her light source, illuminating the area around the lump in dancing, emerald light. She began to dig around it, pushing away dead leaves, loose soil, and detritus from the forest floor. After a little effort, she had unearthed a largish rock, with a clearly pony-made crescent moon upon it. The rock itself wouldn't budge, however, thwarting any further investigation.

The element of Thorium, atomic number 90.

After a long day of travel, Beachnut had finally made it to the mainland. She stuck her head out for a moment to marvel. She'd seen large landmasses, of course, as the Gallopocous Island was visible from her home, but she'd never actually been to the mainland itself. What really shocked her was that all along the beach there were all manner of ponies enjoying the beaches, in numbers she could scarcely imagine. She swam around looking for an area with a more approachably small number of ponies. She wanted to meet more land-dwellers, to be sure, but it was best to start small. While swimmin, she noticed a pair of four-legs underwater. She shadowed them as they made their way across the coast, curious. They seemed a bit more approachable than the crowds, so she closed in as they stepped out onto the land. Bea paused for a moment, unsure how to approach these strangers. Her father had told her all about life on the mainland, and most ponies were supposed to be quite nice, but there was always an element of doubt. What if they were brigands, sneaking away from a robbery? Their isolation might actually make them more dangerous. Those thoughts served more to excite Bea than deter her. She slipped up out of the water with nary a drop of water splashing out. She paused for a moment to let the water drip from her mane. Her hair was coated in an oil that kept it from getting waterlogged, so its shape kept perfectly both in and out of the water, and the water drained out in seconds. As soon as her hair was dry, she pushed herself forward towards the two ponies. "Ahh! Stop right there, suspicious four-legs! I see you trying to get away from the others up on the beach! You are brigands, yes? Ponies of ill-repute! I will put an end to your reign of-" She paused. "Oh no, wait a moment, I do not have proofs yet. You need those first. Let me start again. 'Ail, four-legs, what manners of villainy might you be committing on this fine evening." Her accent had a faint trace of something foreign to it, but it was too mild to be recognizable.

That sounds like it would be more of a straight-up contest, ala the dream foal one. So, definitely doable, just it would fall under a different category than the RP events.

I'm not sure it's possible to make Malediciton meaner, or more discordant.

Lola frowned and considered the options for a moment before nodding decisively at Ashton. "Well, while rest would be welcome, I'm certainly capable of going onward for a bit longer, and we have already lost a good deal of time. Let's push on to Canterlot. We shouldn't have any further issues along the way, and... well, the accommodations are certain to be a bit better up there. Besides, if we rest now we'd be flying by night, which just invites a host of extra complications, none of which we really have the time for." She looked over the balloon. "And the balloon is prepped and ready now, it would be inefficient to pack up and set it back up later on. Mister Inkwell, Miss Cat Napper, I must bid the two of you farewell, and thank you again for your assistance. Now come along, lets get this rig back in the air, the shining city awaits!" She pointed a talon towards the mountains, where Canterlot itself was already visible. Even Lola's disdain for art couldn't completely suppress the natural awe the city inspired. It must be quite a feat of architectural engineering, even with all the unicorn magic they had to aid in its construction.

"Haha, don't hurt yourself, there, champ." Mal snickered as the earth pony hurt herself again. "Pretty sick, huh." She smiled proudly. "I got mauled by a manticore when I was a filly. Most of my scars are from beasties I ran into in the Everfree, like that. Manticores, griffins... I saw one thing out there that looked like a walking briar patch. Most of 'em have the good sense to run away, now, and the ones that don't..." She grinned evilly. "Well, they still won't be bothering anypony again. I may have lost my eye, but the manticore lost a whole lot more than that." She watched as the nurse examined Dixie's leg. "So what's the damage? Is it broken or just sprained? If it's actually broken, then I'd have to reconsider your toughness, walking even this far on a broken leg would be pretty wicked."

What songs should be? No more. There are enough PMVs now that I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible to watch them all. I believe that every last second of video from season 1 has been used in a PMV by now, most of them multiple times. Anyone wanting to make another video should at least wait for additional source material to come out before making any more.

"YES!" Mal snapped at the Doctor as he commented on her pyromaniacal tendancies. "IT'S KIND OF MY M.O.! But keep up with the bumbling idiot act, it's helping me recharge a bit." She scowled at him and was about to berate him for being interested in these worthless machines... machines? The angry noise she'd heard must have been metal stress rather than anger. Before she could reflect further, more of the things started bursting from the ground. Peacekeeping, one mentioned. They must be some kind of police. Mal hated police, and these were police things she could kill without a second thought. She grinned widely, this was gonna be fun. Unforunately, before she could fully summon up her strength, she still needed a little time to recover. She saw the green unicorn take one out with a precision attack. "Nice shot! Now that's what I'm talking about!" She smiled, her respect for the meek pony instantly growing a hundred fold. Another machine burst up from underneath the Doctor's cart with a loud clang. "ILLEGALLY PARKED VEHICLE DETECTED. APPLYING WHEEL BOOT." The robot struggled out from under the car and clamped some kind of assembly to the wheel, further immobilizing the vehicle and adding insult to the injury it had already sustained from Mal's flames. Meanwhile, the out of control robot staggered towards them while Trixie ranted on about something or other. Mal stepped in to cover the irritating blabbermouth. Better to help than to be squashed by a bunch of rusty antiques. This one was not damp from sitting in the ocean, so she applied only a minimal amount of flame, relying on the flammability of metal to her assault. She struck it in the chest, and maintained the spell, allowing it to catch the machine ablaze. The cold flames froze joints and warped metal while they burned, though they were nowhere near as intense as the flame she'd used on the cart. The titanic equinoid lilted to the side as it ground to a halt. "ERROR. CATAZZZZZZTROPHIC DAMAGE DEZZZZZZZZZTECTED. SHUTTing down..." The rush of victory was short lived as two more of the things burst forth to replace it. Fortunately, Trixie finished her spell just in time. Mal didn't want to appear cowardly herself, so rather than run alone, she grabbed the green unicorn's hoof. "Come on, greenhorn, it's tactical retreat time." She pulled Lyra along into a building.

"I would," muttered Mal, darkly. "I'm not a fan of sharing my problems. Especially ones that can't be changed. It doesn't matter anyway, it's in the past." The orderly returned after leading Dixie into the back, and began to ask Mal routine questions, which she answered succinctly, hoping to be away as soon as possible. "Now, you said you struck your head on the ground? I think we ought to take a look at that, just in case. The knock on the head might not feel too bad now, but if you have a concussion we really ought to find out." Mal sighed as the orderly gestured towards the back. "Yeah, alright, fine. I don't have anywhere to be, anyway." She went into the back room and let a nurse run through some routine checks. She grunted at Dixie noncommittally, noting that the earth pony's injury hadn't been severe enough to require a sterile operating room. The clinic was fairly small, so only the most severely injured ponies were brought into their own rooms, and most of them were eventually airlifted to the major hospital downtown. A second nurse approached to examine Mal, and she grinned when the nurse pushed aside her hair to find her missing eye. "My goodness! When did this happen?" "Heh, like ten years ago. In fact, you probably have it on record, I got treated for it in this very building. But it's not relevant to the crack on the head, if that's what you mean."

I always end up GMing Exalted games. Occasionally I get to play a D&D game for a few sessions before we TPK or just lose interest, but mostly I am stuck GMing whenever I want to play PnP RPGs.

I'm not going anywhere, but I've been a bit uninspired lately as far as RPs go, and my responses are probably going to be a bit slow until I manage to get back into the groove of things. If I'm taking a while to respond to you, feel free to pester me about it on IRC.

As the guards closed in, Mal's perceived island of safety shrank rapidly. Then she felt a strange pressure, like something was pressing on her horn. She recognized the feeling immediately as a suppression spell. The guards in Trottingham had used it on her multiple times when they'd caught her vandalizing things. It relied on metaphysical brute force, something Mal had in spades. She could tell immediately that she could have easily shattered the spelled on a good day. Unfortunately, her poor mental state meant that her power was currently at its nadir, she couldn't muster up an ounce of anger to power her flames, and they were snuffed out. Then the delivery pony assaulted a guard. With no magic and no confidence, Mal's higher thoughts shut down and she reacted purely on instinct. She bolted, aiming for the nearest gap in the guards. They had been expecting it, however, and they tackled her with ease. She screamed and thrashed, making a cacophony as she did so, but she wasn't trained in escaping holds, and she was not anywhere near strong enough to they the guards any trouble. She did, however, continue to scream, in spit of the fact that most of the local buildings were administrative, and there would thus not be anypony there to help her. She was beyond reason, and screaming was the only recourse left to her. "DOES ANYPONY KNOW A QUIETING SPELL?" Yelled one of the guards over the din as he held her down, but the unicorns were busy holding the suppression spell, and couldn't silence her without letting up on it.

Bump for finished app

Bucking, maybe? Would if be called "buxing," then?

Name: Beachnut Sex: Female Age: Older Filly Species: Hippocamp Pelt Color: Bright Red Mane Markings, Color & Style: Yellow with bright pink highlights, medium long, kept slicked down Eye Color: Gold Cutie Mark: Three Beechnuts, sitting in an open pod Physique: Long-legged and lanky, but still well-toned, with a thick, strong tail from time spent ashore (and possibly in part due to her earth pony heritage) Origin: Gallopocous Island Roleplay Type: Mane Occupation: None yet, but she has a talent for chemistry Motivation: Learn about her heritage and find a place for herself Likes: Bitter food, waterproof pockets, the Wonderbolts, coral, violins, oil, pirate tales, sharks, fire Dislikes: Small mammals, being told what to do, deserts, open ocean, being naked Character Summary: Beachnut's father, Malabar, was an earth pony sailor, who oversaw the naval shipping of many of the Nut family's products. Though a far cry from the traditional family business of growing nuts, his profession was considered an acceptable one in the family's eyes, and he proceeded to turn around significant profits for the family. Before long, he had progressed from chartering vessels to transport the family's cargo to purchasing a ship of his own. It was on this ship, on his way home from a trade venture into far-off lands of the Zebrafolk, that an unspeakable creature from the depths of the ocean attacked their ship. Malabar's crew fended off the creature for a time, but it quickly became apparent that it was not going to let them out of its territory. In a desperate gamble, he loaded his crew onto lifeboats and rammed his ship into the creature, driving the injured creature away. Malabar went down with his ship as a hero, and is officially listed deceased. However, unbeknownst to him, the creature was in fact a tamed kraken, doing what it was trained to do in defending a hippocamp city, far beneath. When their guardian was injured and fled home, Beachnut's mother, Moonwake, was among the warriors dispatched to investigate. She found Malabar unconscious and near death, and took him to the surface, where she resuscitated him. While many of the hippocamps wanted to arrest him for assaulting the creature and damaging their city with the debris from his ship, the logistical problems with incarcerating a land-dweller underwater led them to instead exile him to a small islet not far from the mane Gallopocous Island. Over his time time, he and Moonwake gradually fell in love, as she volunteered to oversee his resuscitation. When his debt was considered repaid, rather than return to his former life as a sailor, he elected to stay there, and the two were married. It was on this islet, in a clear pool beneath a small grove of beech trees he tended (from the only cargo he managed to salvage from his sinking ship) that Beachnut was born. Though no longer a prisoner on his islet, Beachnut's father never returned to his family. He preferred being thought of as a dead hero, and he was happy raising his daughter and caring for his trees. Beachnut grew up in relative isolation, with only the occasional visiting pegasus or hippocamp. When she was filly, she was diagnosed nearsighted, and fitted with prescription goggles, but she never actually got to visit the far-off, underwater city of her kin. Due to their distance from any cities, her education came almost entirely from books, which she read voraciously. Beachnut displayed quite a talent for chemistry, and she loved to start oil fires on the surface of the waves. She spent an usual amount of time on land for a young hippocamp, often drying out painfully for her recklessness. This led her to experiment with concocting an oily coating for clothing that would keep her from drying out as quickly, but wouldn't wash out in the water. Upon finally finishing a working product, she earned her her cutie mark (her namesake partially in a shell). She quickly adapted to wearing clothing all the time, keeping lotions on hoof for parts of her body she can't cover up. Because of her normally clothed state, she has actually developed a strange sense of modesty, and is extremely self-conscious about nudity. Just recently, Beachnut has resolved to travel. She wants to discover more about her roots, see the world, and learn more about it. While she's quite clever, and knows a lot about science, she has very little real world knowledge, and she approaches nearly everything with a naive idealism. Pic: And one by Kuda: