Color ChallengeI'm going to do the color challenge from 100ThemeChallenge. Who's with me?! *pokes AaronBSam*More Like This
I'm going to also hold off on my contest until I have more active followers :iconrainbowtearplz:
I make that face too often...
Contest! Closed:iconlettercplz::iconletteroplz::iconletternplz::iconlettertplz::iconlettereplz::iconlettersplz::iconlettertplz:More Like This
:iconpewplz: Theme! :iconpewplz:
Dreams. As you know not propel tend to be a bit more creative while experiencing a dream. It's due to the multiple memories, thoughts, and needs of a brain. All in one place.
Nevertheless this theme is Dreams I want you to be as creative as possible and create something someone would see in a dream, or better yet, write down your dreams!
For most the dream thing could be hard or might even be to much to Handel, well here's the theme for you guys! It's simple: Just draw one of the following OCs by myself Slime-frog
Allen (the one on the right)
The FadesI forged the world between my finger tips, playing in the clay with a smile on my lips. The world would be tragic, a cold place were love goes to die and fades into the creases of withered hearts, broken by the burden of existing. I was a tyrant of a god. The world would moan as I twisted it to chaos, and I'd smile and wait, watching the swirls of earth turn black and chard beneath my hand. The sky’s would rain acid, and the air would boil the skin, and the water would turn thick as tar and the land would cave in. I'd smile at the toil of the people below as they wailed in question, “How could this be, why?”More Like This
I'd laugh, they would see, but in the mean time, I lifted myself off the toilet and left for school. There, I would close my eyes, despite seeing, until they could be opened to my world once again. I lived in a dream, one I could only wake from in fiction. I'd wait, watching the ghosts smile and laugh beside me. They could see me as well as I could them, sha
The Musings of a Writer The pen hovered over a simple sheet of paper, the only marks on it being red and blue lines meant to keep foreign markings from shifting off their destined course. Yet the lines felt as if they had no purpose on this night because there were no dark markings to guide towards a path that would lead to so many possibilities. The truth, however, was more cruel than what an innocent bystander would have thought if they were passing by the coverless windows and, by chance, looked into the darkened room with only a single candle burning, giving little light for the person hidden in shadow that appeared to be leaning over a simple desk covered by pages of unused paper, a single pen with ink like the night sky in their hand. The very page set before the shadowed figure was the very same page that was void of any sign of use for several months. This simple yet terrible fact was the silver pendulum swinging over the writer’s head like thMore Like This
Critical ConditionIt was last month when her grandfather was diagnosed, he was put directly into 'Critical Condition' and it wasn't until three weeks after that she was able to visit him. The doctor had called her extremely early in the morning, but regardless, she had rushed straight to the hospital to see him.More Like This
On her way to his room she made a quick stop at the restroom to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She wasn't crying, what if he thought she didn't care? Continuing on her way down the hallway she rubbed her fists in irritating circles around her eyes, causing them to go red. That would have to work for now.
When she made it to his room she was scared to go inside, instead pausing outside the door. Soon she opened the door, and was greeted by her grandfather weakly and waved over to a chair beside his bed. He didn't look good at all.
" How are you feeling?" she asked awkwardly hoping that it didn't show in her voice.
" Better" he said, his soft voice was barely louder than a whisper.
When the doctor
My Own Worst EnemyMore Like This
My Own Worst Enemy
My mind, though apparently whole, is separated into two parts. There is the part that everybody knows – the one that lives in my head daily, deals with the depression and the way I view the world. That part is learning to accept that things can’t be perfect- that I can’t be perfect – that others can’t be perfect. The other part, well, it is mainly dormant...but when it rears its head of perfectionism then I mutate from a loveable friend into a school ma’am with the coldness of Miss Trunchbull from Roald Dahl’s Matilda.
Proofreaders and editors have jobs to do – I know because I free-lance as one myself. Three novels written by a friend in Pakistan, an assignment for university and a script can be added to my repertoire. However, the cold dictator in me raises its head even now after each re-read as it finds stupid things that were looked over; a misplaced comma, an erroneous capital letter...a typo
Give away has ended (on a Hiatus break now)Dear members of CIMore Like This
and here are the winners of the last give away for now
congratulation to the following lucky members who have w
BitS Chapter 13: Sleepless + EpilogueBeacon in the ShadowsMore Like This
Cheerilee’s a Paladin
Chapter 13: Sleepless
After the paladins sword had silenced Deceit once and for all, Celestia had rushed out to catch the falling mare, but Cheerilee had returned to her regular state and was already unconscious when the solar princess had caught her. The motionless form had been rushed to the castle medical wing, where doctors hypothesised and Onyx Loadstone confirmed that she was dying. Berry Punch and Symphony had been rushed in from Ponyville and were informed of the situation. Berry Punch had kept hope for a while but what she didn’t know is that Cheerilee’s biological functions were only still working because of left over nutrition and that the source of energy for her soul is what had been drained to nothing, and now, a few days later, the rest of Cheerilee’s family sat around her bed as her faint pulse grew ever weaker and closer to nothing.
Symphony was lying up against the fuschia mare
One and One StoryMore Like This
It was in the cool of the evening. Precisely 5 minutes after 7, when Soarin approached the lamppost in the Canterlot park. It was getting dark, and the sound of snow crunching under his large hooves was defining the quiet scene. A single dim light glowed from above, allowing some light to illuminate the area. In the distance, approaching footsteps were heard. They were light, and feminine. Soarin smiled lightly, and his heart pounded a little. Then she walked into the light.
"Dashie " Soarin whispered.
"Soarin, I missed you." Rainbow Dash replied, her face showing obvious happiness, yet a level of subtleness towards Soarin. Her beautiful pink eyes gazed deep into his own.
Rainbow Dash was dressed in a beautiful rose sweater and a light turquoise coat, perfect complimenting colors, an obvious work of Rarity. Soarin, too, was not dressed to the weather, but it was not a concern. They knew that their love would warm them up.
They advanced towards each other, and it was noticeable tha
Unblinking - (DTA submission)A crisp night, wind nipping at the leaves. A perfect night. The pegasi had done their best to make sure the weather was the best it could be. For tonight was Nightmare Night. In the past, some Nights were too cold and ponies had to cover up there costumes, opting for warmth over festivity. Other years, the Night was too hot and the festive clothes were mired with sweat or abandoned altogether. But this Nightmare Night was utterly perfect. Leaves littered the ground, enough to give a celebratory crunch but not enough to impede frolicking in the moon’s light. Just enough were still on the trees so that they might not be barren. Instead, they too wore bright clothes of oranges and reds and browns. Perfectly balanced. Perfectly seasoned. All perfect.More Like This
Of course, having such an excellent stage set, one would expect the play to be equally great. And no one had higher expectations than the Cutie Mark Crusaders. The indomitable Ponyville trio had worked for weeks and talked of nothing but
BitS Chapter 6: GunsmokeBeacon in the ShadowsMore Like This
Cheerilee’s a Paladin
Chapter Six: Gunsmoke
Written by DigitDaemon
Braeburn squinted at the shadows that hid the figure. Stepping into the light was not one of his better ideas; while dramatic, it had left him temporarily night blind.
His eyes finally finished adjusting.
“Oh Cheerilee.” he placed his revolver back in its holster, “Sorry, couldn't make you out in the dark at first.”
Cheerilee walked up to the deputy and slapped him square on the face.
“Oww, what was that for?”
“You pointed a gun at me, a slap is the least you deserve.” she said with a huff.
“But I told you, I couldn’t see anything.”
“Then maybe next time you should drop the dramatics,” she said, calling his error, “And stick with being safe.”
Braeburn bowed his head in defeat. “Yeah, okay. You win.”
“Now that that’s settled, what vital information
BitS Chapter 5: Hurry SundownBeacon in the ShadowsMore Like This
Cheerilee’s a Paladin
Chapter 5: Hurry Sundown
Cheerilee woke up early the next morning. At some point in the night she had turned over and now was facing the back of the couch. She began to roll off but stopped when the light pressure on her back reminded her of the episode with Symphony last night. Cheerilee carefully turned herself over, into a sitting position. and quietly stepped over the still sleeping pegasus filly.
She quickly grabbed the lesson material that she had prepared last night, along with her saddle bag, and headed out into the chilly, pre dawn air. She set her hooves on the path to the library, and within a few minutes of brisk trotting arrived.
Cheerilee gave the door a solid knock, which was answered by Twilight.
“Hello Cheerilee, Why don’t you come in for a minute and join me for coffee.”
Cheerilee gave the lavender unicorn an incredulous stare, “What kind?”
Twilight gave the school
BitS Chapter 4: Shadow of a FlowerBeacon in the ShadowsMore Like This
Cheerilee’s a Paladin
Chapter 4: Shadow of a Flower
High up on an ancient cliff side, there sat the opening to a great cave system. The rock that made up the stony fortress had long since been worn smooth by wind and water. Tonight however, the wind carried not the agents of age, but something arguably more ancient and fearsome. The network of tunnels echoed in ancient song, and the stalagmites deep in the caves whistled back in respect. In the very heart of the mountain, there was a stirring.
On the cavern floor lay a stallion of huge stature. He wasn’t unbelievably large, but one would be hard pressed to find somepony larger. His coat and mane were a slate grey that matched the floor of stone on which he slumbered. That is, until the echoing song reached his ears as well.
He opened his eyes and dutifully rose before the one he had once pledged unending loyalty to.
“Terra, you once again interrupt my peaceful sleep.
The Wolven Chronicles: Book One, Ch 1 Part 1CHAPTER ONE: PART ONEMore Like This
As I gaze down on the playground from my perch in a majestic oak tree I start to reminisce on my childhood. My chocolate brown eyes scan the little human children running around and hear their joyful squeals. I remember how I once played on the swing set that is planted below me. How I would get in contests with the human children and almost always win, and never know why. How my childhood was abruptly cut short. How the world turned from the carefree wonderland to a death sentence for my kind before my eyes. My expression saddens at this. Even more so when I see that there are no Wolven children playing. There aren't any furry children playing at all. That has been done away with.
In fact, if I don't succeed in my overarching mission, all the furry races will be done away with. The world has reverted to a similar state that it was in during the war I used to learn about in history class. Not in the way one would think, though. The world has united and there are n
A Captain's LegacyMore Like This
A Captain's Legacy
Shining stared up at the oak door that towered above him. It was a normal door, no different than a typical door one would find inside a house. But given the contents stored away behind it, it had an unusually grand feel to it, and Shining couldn't help but feel dwarfed in its shadow.
The old grandfather clock down the hall let out twelve loud booms.
It was noon. The high sun's rays shone through a nearby window and across Shining's stationary, white frame. It warmed his fur while he kept his blue eyes locked on the door.
His parents always said how the attic held an eclectic assortment of things, from old music records to hardcover books that hadn't been opened since his grandparents lived in the house a decade before.
Shining imagined his deceased grandfather, the stallion with the amputated hoof and a pair of wild, yet kind, eyes. Shining imagined his still-alive grandmother, the sweet mare that would always have a batch of cookies at her house for him and