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Applelight you have that Pony vs Boars fic idea? I'm correct?

@ Death

Most of it was lost when my old computer crashed.

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

That's bad. I know how it's feel, few times something similar hapen to me. Now I have copies of my worldbuilding stuff in few places.

But still remeber your headcanon about boars?

Oh yeah of course.

They live in the land of Susscofa. They're big and strong, vividly coloured, and they talk like Orks. And they have brute stamps instead of cutie marks, and names like Corpulant, Squealer etc,

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

Most of my original fiction was lost in a similar way. I really need to write it again sometime.

So guys, what do you think of Check being a potions expert?

I think it could be a good excuse to do a Jekyll & Hyde story.

edited 3rd Apr '12 11:21:33 AM by ApplelightLimited

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

Since Checkup is a licensed MD or whatever the pony equivalent is, I can see him having experience in Holistic Medicine - perhaps Hoofington's clinic doubles as a pharmacy, and he has to juggle his time helping with filling prescriptions and stuff, and being a General MD. It used to be, way back when, that MD's would do stuff like that.

It would look more formalized and stuff than, say, Zecora's hut, but he would have an assortment of herbal extracts, distilled essessces of whatevers, pharmaceutical alcohols and glassware to brew up things for patients.

Could be that he assists a Pharmacist, too.

Happiness is zero-gee with a sinus cold.

Agreed. He'd be far more specialised than Zecora and the two wouldn't have much overlap in formulas known as they're derived from different cultures.

What do you think of the idea of the minority of Ponies migrating in a different direction in the events of the Founding of Equestria?

I ee nothing wrong with it. It' not like you'd be the first to have non-Equestrian ponies.

(twenty minutes, and I have this, an opening scene for sometime early on in the storyline. Feel free to use.)

It was a nice time of year - the nights were beginning to take on a bit of chill, wafted in from the mountains and the early autumn snowfalls atop them, but the days still had enough warmth for pleasant mid-afternoon strolls and the cafés continued to offer outside seating for the mid-day meals.

It was early evening, and the festive atmosphere for the Day of the Dead was ramping up. Colts and fillies pranced around with their parents, oogling the colorful macabre posters and displays, while some Stallions paraded around the Hoofington library, garbed as mummified horses, all while the town's two Constables shook their heads at their antics. A small parade was gearing up on main street for the sunset procession to the cemetery, where the seaside town would honor their matriarchs and patriarchs that preceded them. It had a strangly festive atmosphere, but this year, it was a bit different. There was an undercurrent of seriousness, of reverent respect to the whole affair, that was more poignant than previous years.

The Mayor was beginning his annual Day of the Dead speech, unchanged from the last three times he had given it. The ivory unicorn at the back of the crowd, clad in a belted and battered slate-colored greatcoat, didn't pay much attention to the speech, having already dismissed it as unimportant, irrelevant and worse yet, canned. But still, some nagging tug at his curiosity kept him from wandering off to find something to eat, this despite the mild rumblings from his stomach.

Sunset approached and the night sky began to darken, although the distant snowcapped mountains were still lit in deep orange light. Faintly, he could see the Evening Star becoming visible, and he looked skyward for the other bright stars to appear.

And that's when it happened. A rush of wind flittered through the square, flapping the banners and posters, and the sky darkened perceptibly, rather than the usual imperceptible shift it typically did. A chill fell upon him, and the unicorn unconsciously huddled into his greatcoat to ward off the sudden cold.

But other ponies only looked around, to each other, to the Mayor, to shelter. He looked up.

There! A pinprick of light, moving, falling, growing larger and brighter. He looked on it with awe, wondering if it was a meteorite or odd firework, when he discerned that it was a carriage, borne up by two Pegasi. The chariot had a rider perched atop it. As he watched it draw closer, the rider alighted from the carriage and swooped down to land on the large portable stage. And then, he recognized Her.

Princess Luna, after over a millennium, was once again going to celebrate the Day of the Dead.

He was aware, after staring in wonderment for an indeterminable length of time, that he wasn't kneeling. His eyes looked over the mass of ponies in the square, and he observed that virtually everypony else was prostrate upon the ground. He could hear the quiet whispered voices of the kneeling ponies, nearly all of which carried a note of fear upon them. Only a handful of other ponies were apparently as oblivious as he was.

He looked back up at the Night Princess, and was immediately aware that She was looking squarely at him. But not haughtily, as he expected. Merely curiously. Even from the great distance he was at from the stage, he could see clearly that She raised an eyebrow in nonchalant surprise.

Thou does not fear Us, he heard Her say softly. But not with his ears did he hear the voice, but in his mind. Her mouth did not move.

Be wary, Moonbeam, for verily, there are things to be both reverent - and afraid.

He felt the blood drain from his face. She knew his name. And he saw Her smile.

And although thou fearest Us not, thou holds Us in awe and reverence. Know that this pleases Us. Come, step forward.

Moonbeam did as bidden, aware that five other stallions were also stepping forward to the stage...

Happiness is zero-gee with a sinus cold.

I love this!

Oh yes, I meant to say. I said to Mio about what Moon is doing with himself and what his job is. Well, here in my neck of the woods, there are two newspapers. The Sunday Life and the Sunday World. Both focus almost exclusively upon the criminal underworld of Ireland, and especially the paramilitaries. Their reporters get really into it...and are often attacked and threatened. The Editer in Chief of the Sunday World (who often appears on tv plugging the big scoop) has even been shot.

Anyway, I'd like for Moon to take up a job with the Equestrian version of these papers. And it was this job that laid him to Hoofington. He thinks it's an easy posting, but Hoofington has a nasty underbelly.

And also, I'd like for things to center around the Broadwalk. BR's Inn, Chuck's SP restaurant, Pig's workshop...and what about that Moon cleans up the place after uniting the others together idea?

Maybe by the time Luna shows up as shown above...they've made significant progress together?

One final thing.....could it be possible...to make Smoke a beat cop inside of a firepony? See...I this idea of him as 'the only good cop on the broadwalk'...held down by his corrupt colleges until Moon helps him. But, it would be a big change...he'd probably need a new name and colour for that...I don't know.

What do you all think?

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

I was thinking about the whole introductory thing. What I hashed out was but one way we could do it.

Another is what you suggest - they've already began to work with one another, and this draws Her attention.

A third is that She's been checking them out in secret for some time, maybe even prodding them along from behind the veil, but only now do they realize who it was that they were speaking with. Again, Luna can shape-shift. She could've been checking out Hoofington for some time - it is rife with corruption, and filled with well-meaning ponies. The perfect place for Her to find the stallions needed for Her little project.

I think that Smokescreen could have two different meanings - you use a smokescreen to cover and conceal movements while you engage the enemy. Thus, even if he's a police officer, the name would still fit with his militia role.

edited 3rd Apr '12 4:13:05 PM by pvtnum11

Happiness is zero-gee with a sinus cold.

Criminal Underworld of ponies, eh? Is this a newspaper Moon started or one that he just works for? I always interpreted it as being a paper he started but that could come later I guess. He originally reported in Canterlot, right? Was that safe due to the proximity of the Princesses or seedy due to it being the capital?

Everything makes sense to be on the Boardwalk, Sea Pony restaurant close to water (possibly has two dining areas? In the sea and on the land), hotel gets a good view, workshop close to the port for easy transportation of goods, presumably the hub of the town so emergency services get good response times.

I liked Smokescreen being in the fire department, it builds on the sense of camaraderie he has which he also has as a reserve, it gives another layer of his interactions with Chuckles (one of his prominent acts is fire breathing which has the danger of going out of control. But if the majority is in favour of the lone good cop that's fine, I'll back it. And of course his core motivation may have to be changed slightly (the not being good enough to save a pony from a fire thing).

edited 3rd Apr '12 4:36:19 PM by Badwolfwho

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@ pvtnum

I think we could easily do a mixture of all of them.

It's one moon works for...maybe it found it too safe? I'm not sure atm. But he does plenty of other writing on the side. And this thing with Smoke has just came into my head...it'll take hammering out of course.

edited 3rd Apr '12 4:17:04 PM by ApplelightLimited

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

@ Applelight

I see, they are similar to boars in my headcanon. But my version have they as minions (slaves) of some bag guys like Grogar or Tirac.

@ Bad

Oh ok.

Also, guys? I'm not so hung up on the name 'Check Up' anymore...it's just a little...erm...flat. Especially since he's now southern and potion making.

Surely there is a better two sybile name?

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

Good oh or bad oh?

Another problem with Check Up is that Chuckles' nickname is Chuck. It wouldn't be that hard to get confused. Can't think of any alternatives off the top of my head. I don't know much potion lore, unfortunately.

Tealove is best pony.Pony Fanon Index

A good oh.

And yeah, that's right. Check Up...Chuck...very similar. I'll go digging for some ideas.

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

Here's a thought about Marabia's religion: since they were the ones who defeated Nightmare Moon and returned her to being Princess Luna, the Marabians have almost elevated the Mane 6 to status of saints (Twilight's cult*

in particular has gained popularity amongst scholars and magicians).

I mainly bring this up because I imagine them going for a visit in Marabia, only to be swamped by a mob of the overly-enthusiatic faithful.

edited 3rd Apr '12 4:41:10 PM by SantosLHalper

Why are you here?

Smokescreen jerked upright, snorting a bit. That voice, again. It was the third time in the past month, and again, the same piercing question.

'Here', for the immediate time being, was the Hoofington Gazette, one of two newspapers that called the city home. He was in the waiting lobby, leaned up against the wall opposite the door. He became aware of eyes staring at him, and he cleared his throat nervously. He didn't like the attention. He never had.

"Must have dozed off..." he said sheepishly. This apparently was enough for the half-dozen other ponies, who went back to their business, waiting for an interview by the staff of the paper.

Why was he there...? He didn't rightly know, aside from a cryptic note that had been dropped off at his mailbox. No return address, not even postage. Someone must have placed it in his mailbox directly. A small voice in his mind said that it was illegal to do so, but more importantly, it was wierd.

There was more, of course. The note said to talk to a certain reporter, Moonbeam, and inquire about "Project Oakwood 293". which meant little to Smokescreen. Could'be been a military codeword, or something to do with forrestry for all he knew.

"Next! Number 292, next!" the secretary called out. Smokescreen looked at his ticket stub. 293. Well, wasn't that peculiar...? Nopony stood, so the secretary called out the next number, and Smokescreen walked over.

"How can I help you, Mister....?"

"Smokescreen."

"Mister Smokescreen, yes."

"I'm looking for Moonbeam."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh, just this invite I got today..."

"Very well, follow me please."

Happiness is zero-gee with a sinus cold.

I just realised...Moonbeam and Smoke Screen ryhme.

Also, the mortar and pestle.

Doctor Mortar anyone?

edited 3rd Apr '12 5:02:00 PM by ApplelightLimited

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

Mortar would make a good last name.

Rex Mortar?

No. Asklepian Mortar.

edited 3rd Apr '12 5:41:10 PM by pvtnum11

Happiness is zero-gee with a sinus cold.

What's a really 'Cajun' name?

Anyone know?

My fanfic outline. RIP Posey

Cajun? Hmmm, needs a Frenchy spin on it.

Happiness is zero-gee with a sinus cold.