buxy

"Crawful. Mean it good. Extreh good," Breaker nodded, clopping a hoof down on top of the flimsy driftwood board. "Aye, they few ponies en town makan dese, all by de barre 'oof. I got me a reeeeal beeyoot, but I'm f'get back 'ome. Dese waves extreh bashy t'day, troo choka groun'swells. So I takan me a scrapper drifters to coast." Breaker nodded again, working at a splinter with the tip of his hoof for a moment, before snapping back to the conversation with a broad grin. "Ah, 'bashy', 'choka', also mean it extreh good." "Me dwellins most 'umble, miss Cheery-lee, juss eensy shack, lettan in dat cooool ocean breezes," Breaker lifted his head and took a deep breath of the light, salty breeze that had sprung up on cue, his chest puffing out before letting go in a contented sigh. "You teachah? I loven dem little fillies an' colts, open mind, open 'eart, beauty way t'live. You bess teach em good 'bout me shore an' sea when you trottan 'ome." "Appeal-jack? Irie! She soun' like she got deright idear 'bout de shoots an' sprouts. Love me a like-minder mare, yah?" He gave a quick toss of his forelock, another wink, more likely than not. "Wan secon', miss." He sprang to his feet, cantering down the beach a clip, dreads flying behind him. With a short spray of sand under his hooves he stopped short and grabbed a beat up saddlebag from where it lay just above the floatsam left by the high tide. Trotting back to Cheerilee, he plunked down beside her again. He rooted in the threadbare, olive colored bag, nearly his entire head disappearing inside it, before resurfacing with a neat bundle of carefully cropped dune grass held together by a string, and flipping it to the towel in front of Cheerilee with a flick of his chin. "Dat. Is what I be doon wit' mah preshus time. Eem bootanist. Makan a tastiar, sweetar, mouth-wataraner, an' 'ealthier eats. I spen' me 'ole 'istory righteeyah, workan 'ard on dat ye got afore ya." Breaker smiled proudly, squaring his shoulders and nodding for Cheerilee to try a bite. His latest crop had only just reached maturity, and he was eager to share.

"I know of a few games I could bring," the zebra said thoughtfully. Mancala, of course, and maybe Zamma as well. "And for that you needn't do a thing. I can bring the boards and pieces all, and I'm sure your friends will have a ball." "Pinkie? I'm not sure how to express this worry. But..." Zecora pawed at the ground, looking down for a moment before shaking her head and pressing on. "What if the other ponies don't like me? I'm different from you all, and I may seem strange. What if accepting me is too much of a change? It was not so long ago they were so afraid. Not everyone might be so easily swayed." She was grateful for Pinkie Pie, Twilight, and their friends, but many of the citizens still shied away from her. Many of her customers when she set up her cart professed to being new to town, with the notable exception of the twins who ran the spa. She couldn't help but smirk when someone turned up their nose at her, and then proceeded through the spa doors. Nearly every service they offered at this point incorporated something she produced in one way or another. That did little to assuage her fear, though.

"Dat. Miss Cheery-lee, be surfin'. Truly crawful doins fi ya time eeyah. S'not de safest, aye, but de bess," the goofy pony tossed his forelock slightly, an expression not unlike a wink as he clacked his hoof against Cheerilee's. Which, if anyone could see, was exactly what he was doing underneath the long, thick dreads. If he paid any notice to the fact that Cheerilee had been previously occupied with her book, or might have the slightest inclination to do something besides talk to him, Beach Breaker gave no sign of it. "An, no, I be speakan like me muddah an' faddah, tho... wheeya dey start, I kyansey." He let out a slightly sheepish chuckle. "I be layin' me 'ead round de way tru' dem dunes," he gestured with a hoof through the dunes to the east, away from town. There was a narrow, carefully manicured, but easily overlooked path widing through a slight break in the duneline, marked only with a pair of stakes wrapped in small strips of red fabric. Without being pointed toward it, the average pony would hardly notice it's presence, and pass on by. Something Breaker counted on, he hated for his grasses to be disturbed, and even many of the native islanders failed to realize just how fragile the beach ecology could be, particularly in Breaker's own backyard. A misplaced hoof could wipe out an entire genus of grass that had taken years to cultivate. "Aye me, you say Ponybille? DE Ponybille? Me sistren pass tru' deyah lass yeer, brung me de sweetess apple jam I done evar did ate." Breaker lifted his chin, smacking his lips at the memory. "Miss Cheery-lee, you chose bess an' mose relaxan locale en all 'Tia's great wide wuld to spen' ya bacation," Breaker nodded slowly, his head continuing to bob far longer than was necessary, taking in the sand, shore, and sea before him. This was home, the most perfect place on earth, and he loved seeing other ponies embrace it.

"Oye, brute-ah," the singsong call came from a short ways down the street. "I be tinkin' dem fol' ain't be wantin' dey flat roundah snackies run off wit'. Mebbe dey wantin' 'em to deyself." With a shake of his dreads and a broad, goofy smile on his face, Breaker trotted toward red stallion, stopping short when he recognized the taxi captain. "Hooo hey!" He exclaimed, bouncing the last few steps to the captain. "I en't be seein' ye 'ooves 'round dese treets in de aaaaages. An' if yer belly be rumblin I be bringin' wit' me de sweetess sweetness you evar taste." The dreaded earth pony buried his nose in the beat up saddlebag slung across his back and resurfaced with a mouthful of his latest crop of dune hay. He happily chewed away, shifting his whithers to swing the bag closer to Buccaneas, a bit of grass hanging out of the open top. "Elp yeself, mah fren'." He murmured through his mouthful.

Willing and able to donate drawings, paintings (digital or otherwise) plushies (of the small variety, working on a pattern, tutorial and prototype right now actually) and custom ponies. The latter would take some serious notice (a month, minimum), I don't whip them out very quickly, and I'm still getting the hang of customizing the new body shapes

This batch is a little on the slow side, sorry about that. I'm fighting with Photoshop at the moment. Nearly all the drawings are underway (I've sent a few PMs where I need more info), but the only one I've finished so far is Shutterbug for cheese canan, and here she is! I know things are a little out of order this time around, sorry guys. I'm hoping to have all of them done by the end of this week!

"So you've tasted a rainbow? Now that's quite impressive. I've heard of their taste, and that the colors are deceptive," Zecora had often wondered what sort of properties concentrated rainbows might have, and how they could be put to a practical use. Without a way into Cloudsdale, though, she'd never been able to find out. Perhaps that was something she could arrange at this party. "It mixes well with dry grains and vegitables, those make up most of my native edibles. Though you ponies here seem to prefer sweets, I'm not sure how you could work this into those treats," Zecora touched a hoof to her chin. "I'm sure you can figure out something it, there must be some sweet out there that would fit."

"Please don't trouble yourself over my waiting, your business is booming, this is a great thing! I park my cart not far from here, I'd love to have you visit me some... day..." Zecora trailed off, her eyes widening a bit as Klondike scrutinized her. She dropped her ears back and raised one hoof as he brought his face up directly in front of her muzzle. As soon as the peculiar stallion made his statement, she blinked once, then threw her head back and let out a long, hearty laugh. "Your observations, sir, are quite astute. Your brilliant mind Celestia should recruit," Zecora winked, moving to the counter and taking up the pencil to fill out the form waiting for her on the counter.

Sealight shook her head, some ponies - aquatic or otherwise - never change. She moved to the side, letting the two make their introductions, and a problem occured to her. Surely hippocamps travelled, and spent time away from home, and while their accomodations on the sea floor were far different from what ponies had on land. They were generally a naturally formed cave or shelter, but something like that had to be much harder to find in fresh water. Where would Pearl stay? Sealight looked out over the water, her brow furrowed in concentration, turning the problem over in her mind. She lost herself in thought, trying to figure out where the young hippocamp would be spending her nights.

Babbles stared wide eyed and slack jawed at the spectacle taking place in front of her. Without even looking down, she magically whisked through to a blank page in her notebook and her pen furiously scribbled across the page, captured in a fit of magic glowing slightly brighter than usual. Where a few moments ago she'd been half asleep and ready to doze off at the table, she was now wide awake, completely alert, and paying close attention to everything around her. As the scene settled down, and the donut returned to pony form, she kept her eyes on Big Time, knowing he'd swoop in. She was aware of his reputation, and knew he tended to care more for the bits than anything else. Just as she thought, he was already swooping in on the young unicorn. The glow surrounding her pen subsided, as did the ferocity of her scribbling, and she turned back to her notebook to put a coherent end to the notes she'd taken. Her ears flicked toward Misty and Big Time, paying close attention as she finished her donut.

With a long, loud holler, Beach Breaker cruised through the water along the length of the beach on a makeshift surfboard fashioned from a stretch of rough diftwood. He carved down the wave, banking in a futile attempt to catch air off the top of the breaking wave, and tumbled head over hoof into the water, his board flying into the air without him. The carefree pony popped to the surface just in time for a wave to crash directly on his head, sweep him to the shore, and dump him flat out on the sand. "Iiiiirie!" Breaker shouted, shaking out from ears to tail like a wet dog, his dreads flying and sending a spray of water in every direction. He trotted over to the purple earth pony, who clearly would have been perfectly happy to be left alone with her books, and plunked down in the sand next to her. "Didja catch dat, sistah? N'bad fi bein' w'tout me flats, aye? Dat skettle scuttle carry okay fa de improvisin'. Trute, tho', I preferin' me a more gracious dismount." He leaned close at the end, relaying his last statement in a conspiratorial whisper. "Aye, me!" Breaker threw his head back and laughed at the poor, confused mare's expression. He touched a hoof to his chest. "Eem Breakah." He gestured with that same hoof towards the mare. "An' you be?"

"I'll be eating here, Joe, thank you." Babbles levitated her coffee and donut from the counter and carried them with her to a table by the window, making note of Big Time. She had heard of him, but had no idea who any of his clients were. Maybe she'd find out this morning. She settled in her seat, taking a sip of her coffee, and a nibble of her donut. She smiled to herself and took another sip of the latte. Perfect, as always, and it seemed to instantly lift her spirits. Babs slung her bag over the back of the chair, lifting a small notebook from inside. She opened it to her notes from the Gala, reading through them as she nursed her latte, checking for anything of note to share with her editor beyond the interview she'd landed with Maximillian Rockefilly himself. Of course, he was Max to her now, she hadn't just managed an interview, she'd turned the evening into a date, and was hoping for another. He was handsome, after all, not to mention well connected and absolutely loaded. Those things mattered. It was a pleasant bonus that they seemed to enjoy each other's company as well. "Not much of a dancer though," she muttered to herself. "Shame."

YES. I am psyched to get playing with this guy. Thanks for all the compliments on him, everyone!

If you're not too overloaded with requests, could I ask for a drawing as well? I'd like one of my character Beach Breaker. I'm still getting the hang of tapatalk so I'm linkless at the moment, but I'll add a link to his profile when I get out of work! (so long as you're still taking requests, of course) Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk. Like a boss. Bam. I'd love to see him chowing down on some hay. Edited from my computer. Like a boss.

"Honestly, I hear griffins are quite grumpy," Zecora said with a sympathetic look. She had yet to meet a griffin herself, but from what she'd read, and heard, they weren't exactly the friendliest creatures around. "And there's really no need to be so jumpy. I have heard your parties are a lot of fun, I'm happy to finally get to go to one." "Oh my, I nearly forgot," Zecora whirled away from Pinkie and turned toward a small cabinet on the wall. "I also heard you like your food hot. I mixed up a spice, from a pepper from my home land." It was only this past growing season she had finally found the right soil combination to grow some of the vegetables and fruits from her homeland, and she was eager to share some of the exotic tastes with her friends. She lifted a small bottle of a deep red powder and set it down in front of Pinkie. "But be warned, this will make your hot sauce seem bland."

Done and done.

"Pinkie Pie," Zecora began, her voice bright. She was still amused by the constant apologies that her new friends spouted, though it seemed there'd be no end to the apologies. "There's no need for guilt, nothing was lost that could not be rebuilt." She cast a quick glance to the corner of the room, where a tribal mask lay in pieces, half reassembed. She bit her lip and stepped in front of Pinkie, blocking the mess from her line of sight. "Music is very important where I am from," Zecora replied, happy to change the subject before Pinkie spotted the still-broken mask and spent the next hour lost in a manic bout of guilt. "But it can only be heard from a zebra and a drum. No recordings exist of us, I'm afraid. Recordings are purely a pony-run trade. I've never heard of these others you list, but I'm sure it's something that shouldn't be missed. Feel free to choose what would suit those you invite, even without my music, I'll be enough oddity for the night."

"Triple espresso soy latte with a touch of mocha, hold the foam," the order spilled from Babbles' mouth with barely a pause between syllables. She nudged past the pegasus in front of her up to the counter. "And a donut would be lovely. Glazed." She sighed, glancing off to the side before adding, as an afterthought, "please." Her ears flicked toward the perky unicorn who'd greeted her a moment before, then back towards Joe as he answered, always on the alert for a fresh piece of news. Nothing of note from Joe, however. She'd always wondered what sort of gossip swept in and out of his shop without him ever noticing. She kept her expression neutral, nonchalant, practicing her perfected art of feigned disinterest, but listening intently to the conversation around her. Babbles had things to share, of course. Whether they were true or not mattered very little to her. She decided to wait and see if the pegasus offered up anything. Certainly a royal guard, particularly someone assigned to the night watch would have a tale or two to spin.

Babbles gave a tight smile to the pegasus in front of her, noting that the mare looked just as tired as she felt. Babs didn't recognize her from the bustling night life, and assumed she was either from out of town or a goody two shoes who wouldn't know a good time if it slapped her in the face. Or possibly both. "G'morning," Babbles grumbled to the yellow unicorn mare, who was entirely too perky for this time of day. In her exhaustion she completely abandoned her aloof, snooty mannerisms and feebly raised a hoof in greeting. "I'm Babbles. Babs. Very tired." She squinted her eyes closed for a moment, even the shop's interior seemed too bright, and for the fifth time since leaving the house, she searched her bag for her sunglasses, hoping against hope they had somehow materialized since she'd stopped to check before entering the shop.

Phil, I added you to the list Added another spot for you! And now I'll be closing things until I finish up.

Listified, bronies. I'll be crackin at em tomorrow. My ego loves this thread.

Babbles hadn't seen this side of noon in longer than she cared to think about. Duty called, however. She had a major meeting with her editor in an hour, and though she'd usually tell the mare to kiss off, they'd meet whenever Babbles chose for them to meet, she'd hooked an unusually high profile lead at the Gala and she needed to play this one right. A cover story. That's what she wanted. And that meant playing by the rules, at least for a little while. She stepped into line behind a deep blue pegasus and bit back any of her usual rude urges. The huffing and sighing were things she could get away with when she was at her best, when a mere smile and bat of the eyelashes won back the graces of any stallion in sight, but this morning she was far from her peak. The night before had seen her dancing her heart out in the hottest club she could find, celebrating her recent good fortune. Come to think of it, she'd done the same thing the night before. And the night before that. And the night before that. Babbles groaned and put a hoof to her face, rubbing the bags under her eyes and hoping that a cup of coffee and greasy breakfast would perk her up, soothe her headache, and settle her churning stomach.

Name: Beach Breaker Sex: Stallion Age: Colt Species: Earth pony Pelt Color: Dark teal Mane/Tail/Markings Color & Style: Red, gold, and green dreadlocks, with brown strips of fabric wrapped around the base of his tail, and midway down his mane. Eye Color: There are rumors his eyes are gold, but no one's actually seen them but his parents. Cutie Mark: Two dune stalks Physique: Strong and tall Origin: Gallopocous Island Roleplay Type: Mane Occupation: Botanist, though no one actually knows that Motivation: In his own words? Fa I an' I 'cross dis great green t'be free of suffration, ya see it? Irie, bruddahs. Translation: to live a peaceful life in the place he loves, and make Equestria a better place in any small way he can. Likes: The sea, nature, the outdoors, living with the land, seeing anypony and everypony having a good time, making others happy, surfing, and he has a bit of a thing for hippocamps Dislikes: Conflict, aggression, ponies who don't live with the land, the idea of being landlocked. Though none of those things are actively disliked, they really just make him sad. Character Summary: Beach Breaker, though he prefers Breaks, Breakie, Bray, or Beaches, is a very peaceful pony. His appearance is a little startling to anyone new to island lifestyle (and, honestly, to islanders themselves as well), and his manner of speaking does little to change that about him. His odd melding of words, half made-up slang, and vaguely musical cadence makes it nearly impossible to understand a word he has to say. That doesn't bother him, though, or stop him from talking up a storm, whether or not there are ponies around to hear him. It's usually assumed, because of how he speaks coupled with his blissed out, happy puppy personality, that he's a complete idiot, he's actually a brilliant botanist. He lives in a shack hidden in the dunes in a less frequently travelled part of the island, but his residence is strategic. It's unobtrustive, and surrounded by acres of the natural, wild growing dune grasses in one of the few areas where they're widely undisturbed. He is working on crossbreeding the sweet dune grasses with common hay to create a sweeter tasting crop that retains all the nutritional value of Equestria's dietary staple. Though if anyone asks what he does? Well. Beg ya ta check it deep, bruddah, I be culturatin' and lovin on dem sprouts and growan good, ya? All yer snackers and vittles lie in de bashiest of hooves. As far as his personal history goes, he'd prefer it if ponies thought he just climbed out of a dune fully formed of his own free will. And quite frankly, most of them do. He does have parents and siblings and numerous other family members, off doing naturalist work in varying corners of Equestria, and though they all love each other very much, and write from time to time, aside from their infrequent letters they have little to do with each other. When they do reunite, they simply pick right up wherever they left off as if they'd just seen each other yesterday, as opposed to last year. All in all, he is a humble pony, leading a simple life, harboring a secret brilliance. Anypony who puts up with his incoherent babbling long enough will learn that about him. And likely get a sample of the latest treat he's grown. He's fiercely loyal and protective of anyone he has decided is part of his clan, which, honestly, tends to be anyone he's spoken to that isn't a jerk.

Harmony Everskies (yay she has a name now!) for AppleNitrox Derp I got the eye color wrong. How dumb of me. So there's the RIGHT version. And here is the wrong one. And Maximillian Rockefilly Jr for Bannhammer Last two for this round! And I'll be opening up for requests again Six slots in this round, though two are already taken!

I got to watch this on a 3ds at work the other day, it's pretty amazing. The only thing that I KNOW is going to make my brain hurt is the dialogue boxes. The 3D effect is like looking into a window, instead of things coming out at you, but the dialogue boxes pop up in the extreme foreground, so you're looking in on this stuff and then have to shift your focus to read the text. The Nintendo rep laughed at my reaction because he knew exactly what I was struggling with. Even so. MOAR ANIMAL CROSSING. MOAR. That game is the only reason I keep my Gamecube around. :ugeek: