Sans Serif (Ready)

[Specs]

Name: Sans Serif

 

Nickname: Comic Sans

 

Sex: Male

 

Age: Stallion

 

Species: Earth Pony

 

Eye Colour: Hazel

 

Coat: Desert Sand

 

Mane/Tail: Shaggy, salt-and-pepper mane about medium length, tail often medium-short. Often very messy, and as he grows older, the white in both of them bleeds into the rest.

 

Physique: Looks twiggy at first, but it belies his true strength as befitting his heritage.

 

Residence: Varied, although his family home is in Manehattan and he has a few unofficial shacks across the continent.  

 

Occupation: Traveling speechwriter/professional travel “writer”

 

Cutie Mark: Quill hovering over an open book.  

 

That blooming he speaks of often (as his favorite topic is undeniably himself). As a wee colt he had crawled to his padded dumpster clubhouse to recover from a round of 'training', as was usual at the time.It was there he found some actual garbage: an oversized coat, a ruddy olive green. “Sweet, free loot,” you might say. He sure did, and in those seemingly infinite pockets he found a book. Ramblings of a madmare, probably.

 

Yet in those words was a message as clear as day, and he folded that madness into a strike right at the heart of his father’s crooked business. The darkened dumpster had held a secret that fostered a new talent. Despite his best effort, his father refused to change. In fact, it only expanded his business to an empire of lies, even digging its roots into the budding magitech business those guys talk about. (Yeah, that was a money sink).

 

He kept the garbage coat and diary, and he's been writing ever since.

 

Unique Traits: He has adequate mastery of his own body thanks to intense training in his youth (though hardly considered professional in his manner). Said upbringing also gives him a sixth sense for underhanded business tactics. Unlike his parents, he seems to sport an accent more commonly seen in Fillydelphia. He chalks it up to his time abroad (but that hardly explains anything).

 

History: Born into a life of ‘luxury’ under tabloid publisher Big Cheese and his blushing winged bride-to-be Rusted Shutter (née Cracked Nut), he found occasional hardship under the iron hoof of his father. It came with the business, as amassing a small fortunes based on a pyramid of lies was a precarious life indeed.

 

The Big Cheese himself came from a family of grand adventurers and spellsmiths (at least, that’s what he claimed was in the family journals dotting the study), but his simple earthen heritage did not lend him any credence. However, in order to live up to a supposed legacy, any youth brought from this union would be sent through his half-baked ‘adventurer’ training, and then some. Those with hollow bones, look far away. It’s up for debate as to if the Cheese lived up to his own standards; a shyster is not a hero by any means.

 

His mother never spoke of her life before the big city, though sometimes she might drop into an unprofessional drawl, and lecture the young Sans on his improper form in tending to their small garden. She and the stallion of the house fought often and almost always. It’s rumored the marriage was only to sire an heir; for her, it was a means of escape from one torture (to another).

 

His talent of speechwriting only manifested in the privacy of a dumpster during a brief respite from the stallion’s rigorous training regimen; this was traditional for the first born of the family A mixture of flighty blood and sturdy constitution made the process go very slowly. He came out the other end a changed pony, but his talents were denied their full potential for a couple years, even as his cutie mark bloomed.

 

At a loss after his cutie mark just miraculously manifested as he reached colthood (coltship? colt..ness. You get it), he spent good time trying to form connections with his local bigwigs (few as they were).

 

As father and son butt heads, with mum left by the wayside, he found his own niche. With the money garnered from writing for underdog politicians, he first attended Manehattan University, where he met the (former) love of his life: Sweet Ambrosia.

 

It’s pretty weird for a smug wine baroness and the child of a criminal to shack up. He had something to work for now, beyond taking care of the folks. (It’s important to note that his first year away from home said folks went through a divorce.)

 

A tragic story as old as that smelly coat he wore, her snooty upper class family shunned his blood (even if he had the wealth to back it up). They parted ways for a time as he set out to prove his worth to yet another set of the old guard.

 

His worldly travels over the next three years eventually lead him to the Academy. The Academy. Well, The Long Guo Imperial Academy For Magical Study. The day of his examination was a stressful one, to put it lightly. It was some kind of combination of good luck, advice from a crazy mare’s diary, and incredible reflexes that proved he was worthy of entry. It wasn’t a legendary performance, but it’s something he prefers not to talk about unless it’s really important to a client. Admittedly, his preferred area of study proved a challenge to begin with; Magical Theory, for a earth pony? Yet he pushed onward, circumventing the displays his more magically active peers produced and focusing more on the precise machinations involved within any sort of magic.

 

What he learned there and what came out of those long five years was washed away when he came home to a city home to two new youth of his own blood (surprise surprise), a failing business (at least until the hullabaloo years ago involving something about evildoers across the globe), and his mother sporting a fresh new home courtesy of White Glass Winery.

 

Poison Joke Reaction: All forms of communication, no matter the case, will always be mysteriously missing a key element that allows the recipient to comprehend it effectively. For instance, the sentence “I just wanted to give you this package that came by yesterday.” may be worded “I just wanted to give you; came by yesterday.”

 

Character Personality: An often very charming businesshorse during a first encounter; he tends to lower his more ‘refined’ tendencies once he can trust the acquaintance to not shun him immediately. He’s bound to his principles, but not his words. Largely considered an egotist, but then you sort of get used to it. Always up for something fun that doesn't break the law.

 

Character Summary: Traveling speechwriter for hire known to write a few short stories and novellas, often by request. It pays the bills. Often by himself on his trips, though he's known to bring one of the little ones along under reason of 'gaining character' or 'worldly experience'. One to partake in the local culture and become 'one of you' before hitting up the bigwigs for a gig; as such, he's mastered switching to his client's needs as soon as possible.

[Bellosh]

Just a question about the Cutie Mark: when exactly did it appear on Serif's flank? Your story has all the other details... except for the part where the CM actually appears.

[Specs]

Whoopsie. But I added the necessary clarification in the cutie mark story section. I write so fast I forget things like 'be specific' or 'don't assume your readers know what you're thinking'.

[Bellosh]

Alrighty, recommending this app for second review!

[RainbowFoxxy]