| CST The current dates for IC play are 1 September 5151 - 30 November 5151 .
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| Turning Point; Feb 23, 5151 [CLOSED] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 25 2012, 10:54 PM (103 Views) | |
| That_Little_Twerp | Sep 25 2012, 10:54 PM Post #1 |
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It had been a little over two months since Obsidian had been officially appointed as the teacher for all Introductory Telekinesis classes. The monthly salary had been much more than he had expected, and he had expected to be able to purchase himself a house in the Uptown district of Canterlot. That is, he expected to, but it seemed that one of several organizations dedicated to assisting "Heroes in unusual circumstances", such as himself, find new homes, and adjust to modern Equestrian life. His status as a former Captain in the Equestrian Army, (A status that, hopefully, would be reinstated with this training program that Noblesse had mentioned, which he said could take anywhere from a month to a year, perhaps even shorter, depending on "extraordinary circumstances" as he had so eloquently put it.) along with the special housing organization, had procured him a somewhat-well furnished house north of the Market District. In between his hours teaching students, grading their papers, along with handing back said papers, and attending the program meant to reinstate his status in the military, Obsidian spent the majority of his time adjusting to modern Equestrian life. The first thing that had to be done, much to his displeasure, was to learn that his armor was NOT to be worn everywhere, and that people tended to avoid ponies with warpaint on their faces, who sported a near-constant scowl. So, he had removed his warpaint in what was the first time in over four thousand years, and had stored away his armor within the attic of his new home. Other than that, Obsidian adapted considerable well. He had met, and interacted with, a fair amount of nobles (One of which being one Prince Blueblood, whom he still considered a git, not that he said it to his face, mind you.), attended their parties, told them stories of his exploits, and generally socialized with the Canterlot upper crust. However, he still disapproved of their treatment of what they deemed to be "lesser ponies", such as their servants, traveling merchants, and the occasional beggars, who were especially reviled amongst the nobles. Obsidian, however found himself donating a handful of bits, or occasional loaves of bread whenever he could; that is, whenever he wasn't observation from the upper crust. The one thing he couldn't accept, however, was Equestria's current state of affairs. Celestia had gone missing, Discord was on the loose, and Luna had refused to lower the moon, several nobles citing that she had finally gone off the deep end, or that Nightmare Moon had returned. No matter how much he wanted to, Obsidian couldn't do a thing. His preferred methods would land his head on the chopping block with Luna acting as she was now, and she wouldn't listen to reason either. He hoped that somehow, Celestia would be found, and soon. ============ Obsidian shivered, snapping out of his train of thought as he, along with a group of nobles strolled through the streets, the group having just attended one of Octavia van Clef's performances. "... Sir Blade, are you quite alright?" Obsidian shook his head and offered the mare wrapped around his arm a smile. "I'm... I'm fine, I was just lost in thought for a moment, I suppose." The mare's brow furrowed. "About WHAT exactly?" Obsidian struggled not to stammer as he searched for a good excuse that would please the mare, while still allowing him to keep his dignity, and his lower region, intact. "Why, just about how wonderful you look in this winter moonlight, madame." "Oh, Sir Blade, you CHARMER, you..." Obsidian breathed a sigh of relief as the mare launched into a giggling fit more befitting a school-age filly, and averted his gaze. His eyes wandered along the various signs of the shop fronts that the group passed, until something caught his eye, and he stopped, peering into a snow-covered alleyway. "Sir Blade, what is it? Do you see something" Obsidian didn't respond as he shook his hoof free of the admittedly clingy mare, and trotted over to an oddly shaped pile of snow. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he brushed aside a few hoof-fulls of snow, and stepped backwards a few paces when he had uncovered what, or rather, WHO was underneath the snow, the mare's scream threatening to make him deaf in both ears. ============ After the mare's screams had died down, and the paramedics arrived to pick up the body, Obsidian and the group gathered around the stretcher where the still form of the frozen mare rested, a blanket hiding her face from prying eyes. "Unbelieveable." "Unthinkable." "Horrible." "Disgusting." Obsidian's ears perked up at that last one, his forelegs shaking with anger, and perhaps more than a bit of disbelief at what he had just heard. "What was that?" "I said that it's disgusting. Some pony, scrounging the streets for some bits for her next meal... I daresay that her fate was an appropriate one. Dying alone in the dead of winter. It's fitting, really. " That tore it. Obsidian lifted his hind legs, and bucked the bastard that said those things, (who he would later discover was Blueblood) and stormed off, leaving the nobles, and any onlookers in stunned silence. ============ Obsidian rounded another corner, walking through a system of alleyways, dirt paths, and paved roads until he reached his destination; One of the few blacksmiths left in Canterlot. He had once come across this place when navigating through the streets, hoping to locate this fabled "Donut Joe's" bakery, but had unfortunately ended up lost. He burst through the door of the establishment, slamming down a decent sized bag of bits, which the grizzled old stallion that owned the place took, pulling out each individual bit, and tested them for authenticity. Finally, after putting the last of them away, he looked to Obsidian, unfazed by his presence, which spoke volumes about the fury he was experiencing. What're you lookin' fer, young'un?" "A sword, one fit for slaying the kind of beasts that dwell within the Everfree Forest." "Ah, so you'll be wantin' something big, am I right? Something that'll last you a long time t'come, I'll wager." "That's right. Will that be enough for a sword that size?" "More than enough, really. O'course, if yer willin' to let me keep a little more of these bits, I could rust-proof your sword in a process called bluing, which gives it a nice, bluish black color on the blade without compromisin' its integrity." "Done. When can I expect my sword to be finished?" "Let me keep the whole bag, sonny, and you can have it in three days." Obsidian grumbled something under his breath about bloodsucking vampony businesscolts, and sighed. "Done." With that, the reborn warpony began his walk home. He had work to do... Castles to storm, and a Princess that needed a thourough talking to. |
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Penn Inkwell||Unicorn||Male Socket Wrench, AKA "Ratchet"||Earth Pony||Male Obsidian Blade||Unicorn||Male Silver Star||Pegasus||Male | |
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