Tournament 2018 - Round 1 EBSHounds of Eld stables packed up their prized EBS fighter, Leo and shipped him off to Europe. Though not nearly as practiced or experienced as his competition, they were confident in the stallion’s ability to live up to his legacy and spar a good, clean game. The Hounds of Eld were not as concerned with winning as they were with taking training slowly, methodically and with healthy amounts of downtime. Thus, the thirteen-year-old stallion was “behind” but he would live a very long, healthy life.
Still, Leo was entered into the EBS annual tournament and spent the first week on the grounds getting acclimated to the climate and the elevation. He was well behaved and obedient, getting lunged on the line for exercise in the spacious yards prior to the competition itself. The stall was lush with bedding and his name was etched in bronze on a plate they stuck to his stall, declaring him the son of his father – a famous EBS stallion who, sadly, would not be at the
UPFA Round 1 - 1928 Dulce x 1614 AbeThe tournament was in full swing. While the Equus Ballator Society was putting on their esteemed, annual tournament, the Pit Fighters were setting up their bloodier and darker mockery of the sport of gentlemen. Grandstands, music, food and luxuries were replaced by a large warehouse. If Roland had to guess, it was an abandoned airplane hangar. Rings were set up inside for practice and the horses were kept isolated from one another in iron stalls. In the very center of the hangar beneath wan lighting was the main arena – standing room only. It was dirty in every way EBS was clean, and those involved reveled in that fact.
Roland stood near Abe, the tall, white maned stallion in the corner of his stall with his eyes closed. He had tried to make the bedding as thick and comfortable as possible, but the stallion was nearly unreadable. If it weren’t for Abe’s natural aggression and interest in this sport, Roland wouldn’t be seen dead here. In fact, he dressed d
UPFA Sparring MatchThe process of getting caught was a blur. He remembered ropes and burns. Shoved into a tight, dark cavern that moved. The taste of human blood. Fighting. He shut himself down until all he felt was apathy and the desire to win. Something changed then, and he remembered that moment more clearly. He and a group of other horses were taken to an auction of sorts, and he had been sold. The man who lead him was kind and his hands were gentle. There was a sadness in the man’s eyes that matched his own. Abe was allowed to roam in a large, comfortable pasture near the mountains he used to call home, but he made no attempts to escape. He had failed his herd. He didn’t deserve them anymore.
But, he was still feral. He was unsuited for the sports the others of his type exercised. Abe was hauled with another stallion, Leo, to a wrestling match, but Abe never fought just to win. He wasn’t chivalrous in the ring. He wanted to win. Being raised in the wild, you fought for your life, a
Wolves Among WolvesThe buzz of electric clippers echoed through the frosty barn as Leo stood patiently between two posts. His slip of a human female was clipping his manes for riding, again, given that his hair grew with the vitality of a weed in spring. Though not necessarily known for his patience, he didn’t have the heart to give this girl a hard time – not when she treated him with the dignity and respect he deserved as the son of a great warrior. Besides, she kept him clean, groomed, well fed and in shape. He had very few complaints besides the presence of a yowling damned feline who thought the barn belonged to her.
A pat on his striped side indicated that she was done and his tawny colored eyes followed her as she grabbed her saddle and his bridle. Deft fingers cinched him up and ensured the buckles around his horns were secure before leading him from the insulated barn to the chill of the morning. He puffed his chest, shivering once as his body acclimated to the cold and stomped a hoo
Sleep AloneIn the northern reaches of Europe, snow-laden forests and vast expanses stretched farther than the eye could see. Mists hung close to the ground in the golden, winter mornings, and the dew sparkled freshly against the tall grass and bushes which managed to grow out of the white ground. Perhaps the most significant feature of note was the silence. Nothing but the soft whisper of collapsing snow and the intermittent whisper of wind disrupted the deafening quiet of this secluded and untarnished landscape. To some, this isolation was unbearable but to others, it was peace.
Abe and Nyx were two who enjoyed the seclusion. Their hooves crunching in matched paces and rhythmic sounds of breathing were their music, and Dog's quicker pace added spice to their song. The pair was growing ever closer as they hunted side by side, returning their quarry to Abe's band where they were safely nestled in the foothills. Nyx didn't much care for Abe's responsibilities, but she followed him all the same. She
CeremoniesThe new leader goes to the Moonstone (or Moonpool) with the Clan's medicine cat. After touching the stone (or drinking from the pool), the new leader cannot move for a short period of time, because their old life is being ripped away so they can receive nine new ones.Upon awakening, cats of StarClan come down from Silverpelt. Nine cats, normally ones who were significant during the new leader's life, give them their nine lives with these words:
(Touches nose to the top of the new leader's head) With this life I give you (gift). Use it well (to, in, as, for, etc.) (use of gift).- All may vary
When all of the lives have been given, the previous leader says these words:
Previous Leader: I hail you by your new name, _____star. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of ____Clan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with prid
linguisticsAnd perhaps we artists don't speak the same language as the rest of you at all, actually. We do not even speak each other's languages. Visual artists, painters and photographers and the rest, speak a quick, throaty dialect given to slow slow vowels and long words that slither out in between the teeth. Musicians, of course, are given to singing every word of their language. They're a multilingual breed, that one, with a quite near-normal first language that is still a bit like humming, and then an incandescently ethereal and oftentimes demonic vocabulary in the other. Dancers do not speak at all, mute except when displaying an arresting, enchanting form of sign language. Artisans, and I count sculptors in their field, sound the most ordinary of all of all of us when sentences slip between their lips, but the words themselves are fantastic and endearing, little conglomerate syllables and sounds that should not be in the same phrase together but also belong together, like the French langu
How I Met My Girlfriend
My girlfriend is my super special someone. We first met on the Anime Vegas con forums and from there our relationship just seemed to blossom.
It was an amazing stroke of fate I think. Every year I would go to a convention, whether it be local or the Amime Expo. That year I really wanted to go to the Expo because my friends really wanted to go to that con, and I felt that if I didn't figure out a way to get them there, I'd be letting them down.
However that year I was denied by my folks. They didn't want to hike up to LA again that year. My parents didn't like the city and that according to them the Expo was a much easier trip when it was in Anaheim 2 years prior.
I was utterly heartbroken, and like a spoiled little kid, I sulked and gave my parents the silent treatment. Usually I wouldn't get so upset about such piety matters, but that summer would probably be the last real summer I'd get to spend with all my friends who were either moving or going off to college! I wanted to do someth
Sonic high school Real deal ch.1Middle school as bad as high school it probably was the worst for me but it eventually came out of hands... I almost lost a great friend of mine and almost gave someone everything. I guess I can start with when the huge problem started.
(( years before))
Amy: Another day in 9th grade, to be honest I was terrified with what would happen today. I placed my brush down as I fixed my hair and rushed down stairs; not bothering to eat breakfast when my mom stopped me. "Honey aren't you going to eat your breakfast?" I sighed while holding the door knob and turned around. "I can't mom I'm.... um running late sorry!" And like that I closed walked outside and closed the door behind me. I barely made it to the bus. When I walked in I saw Rouge wave at me. As I walked over to her a bunch of idiots were tossing papers around. "Hey babes nice dress." He lifted my dress "hey!!" I pulled away and kept walking. "Idiot...." I said softly as I sat beside Rouge. "Don't pay any attention to them
The Sexiest TribeTwelve Fanfiction-Part:II
Noah regretted leaving his Kevkevbabbu.
He knew that leaving the one he loved hurted. It hurteded even more than when Kevservy yelled at him so hurteded-fully like that.
Noah went to a corner store and bought a rainbow cupcake. He swagged back home through the flowers, in his pretty, long, flowing dress, his curls bouncing in the wind.
He tripped in dog shit.
As he got home, Kevin was watching Strawberry Shortcake on the expensive flatscreen.
"This gives me ideas." Kevin said, writing something down in a notebook.
Noah ran over to Kevin in tears, and fell on one knee, handing Kevin the now dog shit-covered cupcake. "I'm in lesbians with you, Gideon!" Noah said.
"MMM. I LAVS ME SUM CHACOLAT CUPACKS!" Kevin rapped as he popped the dog shit in his mouth. "Gideon?" Kevin asked.
"Scott Pilgrim. (I) Read the whole series." Noah responded.
"This cupcake tastes like dog shit," Kevin stated.
"I'm sorry abo
The real story of Per Yngve Ohlin Part 2
Part 2 of 2. How did Pelle Ohlin - Dead?
Per Yngve Ohlin was born in Stockholm on 16 January 1969, the eldest child in a family that would include a sister, a brother and later also two half brothers. He grew up in the suburb Västerhaninge, a half hour train journey south of Stockholm.
That Pelle was a bit odd was noticed early.
-He had a rather peculiar feature in some way, said his brother Anders Ohlin. One could say that he was very pragmatic, he worked constantly in one direction. He could not have more balls in the air, for better or worse. Once he did something he did it incredibly well and to the point. But he found it difficult to determine if the case was reasonable or even possible.
Pelle was unpredictable as a child. A favorite story in the family is in Pelle, which soon became a member of Field Biologists, sat on the train, pointing accusingly at a lady in the leopard coat and demanded to know if it was false or true. The lady
A Stronger Uchiha part1
He was now in front of the leaf village gate his hands placed in his pockets as he looked up at the gates "Finally I made it" he said walking in the village "you're not authorized in here without permission" said a ninja that stood guard. He still looked ahead not really paying attention to the guard. "And I care why" he said calmly. "Stand down, if you don't leave the premises right this moment I am authorized to make you leave" he still paid no attention to the guard "oh really" the guard walked alongside the boy "be gone with you" the boy slightly turned his head toward the guard spitting out Senbons that hit the guards throat the tip of the senbons had poison on them causing the guard instantly fell to the ground holding his neck. the other guard came running besides the fallen guard looking up at the boy who turned as his eye changed the guard only got a glimpse of what it was before he changed it.
The boy continued walking and the guard disappeared to warn the hokage. With a fan
This is a true retelling of an event that occurred a few years ago. You may not want to read this while you're eating or if you're physically ill for some other reason. I've changed the name of the third party for their protection from the obvious mockery that would ensue if anyone they knew were to find out about this story.
Akuoreo and I have lived together for about ten years now, and in that time we've had a number of roommates. Most of them weren't terrible, but a few have done things that led to our decision to never have a roommate ever again. Some of them were actually pretty scary, too, but none of them as genuinely, soul-grippingly terrifying as the tale of Dwight and the Meatloaf.
Anyone who knows us well knows that in the spring of 2007, Aku and I were effectively homeless. For a few months, we lived in a tent in my dad's farm in the middle of nowhere. Eventually, we were offered a slightly better place: A trailer camper, tucked awa