lobsterbob

@,@, Chilltide thought a moment before answering, and in the process yet another pony gave an introduction. The beautiful mare gave him a flower as well... a kind gesture... too kind... I have to be smart about this. They could be changelings... "I am... erm... Winter Breeze... one of Princess Luna's royal guards." It wasn't a terrible lie, it was believable, although that alias was beyond lame and if he were a guard he would probably have armor on, and of course certification. It wouldn't matter, he just needed to make himself sound important enough to intimidate the potential foes that seemed to await a more detailed response. "I was in the fountain... hiding... you see, I'm on a super top-secret mission. I was spying on possible enemies and I couldn't help but hear some... related conversation?" Chilltide winked at the group nervously, fidgeting with the flower and hoping that he hadn't blown his cover to a lot of changelings. He readied his horn cautiously, ready for the beasts to attack him and unleash their vile wings. If they understood him, he was safe, but if they hesitated or attacked he would freeze them solid and break them before they could take action.

@, @, @, Chilltide was annoyingly awoken from his nap in the fountain by what he comprehended as thunder, after regaining consciousness. The ominous dark clouds rolling off the horizon, though obscured by the ever-flowing fountain water, only strengthened his belief in the legitimacy of the letter. However, his hope was somewhat restored by a group of ponies conversing at the other side of the park. They all seemed to be rather obscure, and one held a letter that sparkled with the same aura as the one he had gotten. Just before approaching them, his unnecessary cautions forbid him from continuing. What if they're changeling spies that know of the plan, and are simply out to capture me? He was appalled by the thought, he didn't want to be driven insane or... or worse by the creatures. He would have to stealthy and ready to fight at any moment. Focusing his horn, he readied the fountains water so that he could use it to freeze the "ponies" if they were in fact changelings. Awkwardly stepping out of the water, Chilltide interrupted any ongoing conversation. "Hello everyone... haha, having a very NORMAL conversation, are we...? Ha, heh... eheh.."

Both are terrific, you shouldn't feel bad at all! Besides, you've completed so many requests. Some are bound to have taken longer or drawn your interest more.

Of all the places Storming Star wanted to be at such a chaotic time, the bathroom was... not one of them. The sounds of other stallions in their stalls made him uncomfortable enough, their shaky breathing and hoarse voices that whispered some kind of nonsense. The disease had spread so quickly... so many were infected to a dangerous extent. Some ponies had gone insane enough to kill, and no one could be trusted. Why couldn't I have gotten sick? I'm going to go crazy out of fear alone... He didn't even have to use the disgustingly dirty toilet that lay behind him in the stall, he had locked himself in. No one could be trusted. At least, that seemed reasonable enough of a rule. Although he hadn't thought about how susceptible he himself was to the disease, he didn't want to find out what he might do. The distortion it would cause, to his own thoughts that raced so nervously, the pressure was too much to take. Breathing as quickly as he had heard earlier, Storming Star charged his way out of the stall and out of the building and far, far away... No, that wasn't right? Hadn't he ran home? He was standing in one of the school's courtyards. It was one of the only places that retained some peace, he was safe... No, there were other ponies. His thoughts raced, his heart raced, his eyes flicked around until he took a breath and stopped. His gaze settled and he approached a group of three mares and another stallion, conversing as if there was nothing happening. "Might I... ask... uhhh... is it safe out here?"

Chilltide, now realizing his own stress, stumbled and tripped around the busier streets that were crawling with ponies. His friends had moved since his last visit, and were now in one of the many apartment complexes that populated part of the city. These reminded him of Manehattan, and it wasn't particularly difficult to traverse them... but with all of the traffic and noise in the air focus seemed impossible to achieve. I haven't really told them I'm visiting... have I? He felt like an unaware colt again, starting to wish he would have stayed in Canterlot or gone home to his parents. He felt an odd itch on his neck as he walked, and finally grew annoyed enough to scratch angrily with a hoof. To his surprise, there was a letter caught on the strap of one of his saddle bags. Not just any letter, the wax seal that held it shut was finely printed and the paper emitted a regal light. The beautiful enchantment used in the process was certainly that of a master, and upon opening the letter Chilltide discovered that the letter was from-... it was wrong to open other ponies' mail. Perhaps I'll just see who it's addressed to... The first line was enough of an indication that it wasn't addressed to any individual. Chilltide read quietly but eloquently, his eyes flicking past letters and words as he spoke. This wasn't only from Princess Celestia, she was asking for... well, his help. He had seen her visit his school every now and again, and had even attended some upper-class events at which she appeared, but he was just... a humble magician from the city. By what fate would he be chosen to save Equestria? Perhaps there were others... others? What of his friends? He'd come to Fillydelphia just to end up saving Equestria, why would he- He decided that it was important to search for other people who had gotten the letter. He'd have to be discrete, changelings could be hiding behind the masks of anypony on the streets. Think, Chilltide... this is important... think. Shapeshifting, the changelings' own power, came to mind. The only problem with this was that he didn't know any spells that granted the power in a convincing form... If he could make himself look like a changeling whilst seeking out people... reading letters? Yes, that'd have to do... then they might recognize him as the enemy and engage them. As a changeling he would seriously raise suspicions among the non-involved... How was he suppose- "Please go to the park fountain at sundown," the letter read. How much of an idiot could he have been? He had never been taught to skim while reading, and this was a billion times more important than school. Not only that, but he had been at the same fountain in the same park earlier in the day. Calm down Chill, there's plenty more to worry about... Although he was eager to see them, his friends would have to wait. He galloped back to the park where he had performed, his horn readied and his eyes on the watch for any odd ponies. The fountain had regained its water, projecting the liquid at a boring pace. Much to the confusion of everypony at the park, Chilltide casted a water-breathing spell on himself and climbed into the still flowing water. It felt cool against his coat and he decided to wait here until later, possibly taking a nap to improve his mood and mind. He wasn't fond of making a scene in such a public area... but as an excuse he regarded it as important. Falling gently to the ground, his eyes shut slowly and he drifted off. Glowing green eyes peered from far off.

Thinking so much while walking at such a pace wasn't Chilltide's... best idea. He had a lot to think about, and in his mind hurrying was something of a priority... at least until he bumped into somepony. "Erm... truly sorry, forgive me." He said, grinning nervously as they eyed him. Instead of staying to apologize more or help them up, he decided it was best to depart. A few other ponies looked at him leave, he was sure he heard a scowl or two... no. Everything was okay, he had been waiting for this. A nearby bench was tempting enough to draw him in, and he collapsed surprisingly loudly next to a now startled colt. He wasn't especially worried that they had felt uncomfortable enough to leave, he did need leg room. Chilltide closed his eyes slowly, savoring the feeling of cool shadow that fell over them. As if by instinct, he opened one of his saddlebags with his magic and brought out an old canteen. Surprising himself, he chugged vigorously instead of playing with it or practicing control. Had he even eaten or drank anything on the train? With the train came memories of the nightmare, so vivid... so... There was a fountain visible in the area, a small park, which consisted mainly of benches, hedges, and trees. Maybe a street performance will calm me enough to get through the day, and it could even draw some attention... Trotting smoothly, Chilltide approached the flowing water with his horn ready and his eyes closed. This on its own made some turn their heads, as it was a rather peculiar action... Within seconds, the water was outside of the fountain in a large bubble, floating gently over Chilltide's head. Of course, levitation wasn't very impressive. Not that it mattered... was he actually worried about impressing anyone? The bubble shaped itself into a tall mare, dancing gracefully on invisible ground before its liquid body burst into droplets that each hit the ground softly. Somepony started clapping their hooves, which made others join in, but the performance wasn't over yet. Chilltide salvaged some of the fallen water and created a small cloud above the park that vibrated as if waiting to explode. Instead of producing a loud noise and well... fire, it released softly falling snow flakes that covered the park in a thin layer of white. This was mainly to amuse any foals wandering about. The applause resumed, and some of the ponies who had watched brought money over before realizing that Chilltide had taken his bags and briefcase and left. He trotted on the same road he was walking before, but slower. He smiled at the next pony he crossed instead of bumping into them. Those were novice spells, and the moon isn't even up. If anypony enjoyed that, I'm sure they won't mind if I stick around...

It was generous to say that the constant noises of the train, whether they be mechanical or created by everyony riding, were annoying. Annoying wasn't a powerful enough word to fit the situation. Chilltide shifted in his seat, his tired eyes rubbing against his eyelids as his head nodded and his face hit the adjacent window. Weary thoughts echoed around his ears for a moment before all was silent. His eyes did not burn at the light, though he could feel drool running down his chin. Strangely... looking down revealed no saliva. In fact, he wasn't sitting anymore. There was no train. The noise was present somewhere, but it was distant, so far off that he felt his cheeks tense and his painful frown grow into a smirk. A figure stood far off, in a pool of memories and thoughts that bounced violently before... they rippled. Although wavering the images were calm, soothing. The figure was closer. It's slender body was dark, hidden in the mental fabrication behind it. The calm thoughts began to subside. The... creature inched ever close, carrying with it an evil stench. It's translucent but dirty wings buzzed quickly. The figure was gone. Chilltide, now lucid at the signs of a nightmare, was relieved. Before reality clawed at the vision and brought the noise and the feeling of consciousness back, glowing green eyes peered from far off, in a pool of memories that bounced viole- The train didn't seem so bad anymore, at least after the terror Chilltide had felt during the dream, despite its simplicity. He clutched his briefcase tightly with his bottom jaw, rubbing his sore eyes with a hoof before he was fully aware again. Most ponies were minding their business in their seats, tending to foals or reading or even staring out the window. A few glances may have been given, but Chilltide was sure enough that he hadn't made a scene. His previous nightmares would occasionally wake him up screaming, crying, shouting or anything of the sort. He hadn't had those since before his studies though, he had been sure his anxiety had settled by now. A voice called from further down the car. It sounded as if it said something similar enough to "Fillydelphia," and the car's doors opened, so it must have been his stop. The terror from before became growing excitement, and the still-present smirk slowly became a smile. It'd been a while since Chilltide had been in Fillydelphia... before moving to Canterlot he had traveled quite a bit. He ended up enjoying Fillydelphia the most, and had of course made plenty of friendships there. His parents insisted that he move straight back to Manehattan, but a simple visit here wouldn't hurt anyone. The sudden contact with outside air was invigorating, with a calm temperature and a scent that he was sure it carried the last time he'd been here. He couldn't wait to show his old friends what he'd learned, how good he'd gotten. He wandered around a bit before taking to the street, holding his chest high with confidence and opening his eyes as best as he could. It was surprisingly busy based on the time, and reality almost felt eerie after the nightmare from the train ride... but all would be okay as soon as he found his friends. He just had to remember where they lived and... and how to greet them. Should he knock on their doors? What if they didn't remember him... had he grown too much? His hooves continued to hit the road as he pondered.

I'd be incredibly appreciative if you drew my two OC's to help you improve, but if you'd prefer you can do one of your choosing to save time in order to complete other requests. Format doesn't matter, I just would like them to be the same relative size as the given pictures. Use the pictures for color reference, but don't worry about being exact. If you're up to the task, I'd like separate pictures of the two and also a group picture. (If of course you plan on drawing both.) I'd like Storming Star to be poised similarly to how he is in the reference picture, nothing too special. His legs could be oriented differently, but I'd just like him slouching and looking at the ground kind of shyly. As for Chilltide, I'd like him to be using magic to take notes on a scroll. Anything you'd like to add or tweak may be, and although I would appreciate any style I might like them to look similar to the show's art style. Storming Star: Chilltide:

I might as well apply, even though it'll take a while if I ever get one. Thanks in advance, I would really appreciate it. Do which ever one you want (Or both):

I'm still too young to do much of anything, but I aspire to create so that I can leave a mark on the world. I could care less about my own happiness, I feel that my purpose is to leave good things behind and to entertain others.

Actually, if I didn't want to live and wasn't so attached to most of the things in my life I'd probably figure out how to lucid dream easily and then self-induce a comatose state... I don't see the point in living a nightmare and then waking up, because even if life is nice it can be just as bad. Also, dreams allow the physically impossible. The only real advantage there is to the living is social interaction, which is always nice.

I'm not the most patient person... I usually pour some hot water into the cup and let it sit until the noodles are somewhat moist and edible. There is a lot of liquid left over, so I end up with a miserable murky soup and realize that I should have let it cook for a bit longer. And then I just jump out of the window and break all of my limbs as punishment for my dishonorable mistake.

I'm completely boring. I'm not entirely sure of one side of my family, but here's what I know: Scottish Irish Italian I'M FROM YERUP.

This may be strange, but... consciousness. That does sound selfish... I just couldn't live if I... couldn't... live? I like being awake, I think it's extraordinary that every bit of research people might do will probably never explain why I'm seeing through my eyes in particular. I like thinking. Even though I'm hopelessly depressed, the sadness is beautiful. It makes me feel tangible, it actually makes me want to live longer than I should. I guess that's just a hopeless aspect we all have, the desire to live, even if we're intent on dying.

This thing we call life is such a mess, it's hard to really classify it as a single thing. It's a huge pile of things we believe are one and the same, but are instead so distant that when we develop lies in order to hide from their truth. I like to think of life on two levels. On one hand we have humanity, life on earth through the eyes of a human. This form of life deals with emotions, society, entertainment, every abstract concept we have put in place. We are a social species, so it's no wonder the amount of interaction has grown, but looking beyond it is solemn. (Whether you believe in a higher power or not, anything divine or holy would be on a different level completely. I consider religion to be abstract. That doesn't mean I reject a higher power.) When you think on a larger scale, although it isn't entirely possible for us, there is nothing. No happiness, just empty space, energy, and matter. A huge thrashing cloud of all of the things that exist that will continue to exist far after we die. Oh, here's the sad thing I was thinking about. The mind may seem connected to the world and in contact with others because it is in control of a physical body and can sense the physical world. However, it is alone. It can be sent information from outside, and it can said information back out, but it will never be there. Also, unless you believe in souls playing a part in individuality our conscious minds are only very advanced machines that can break and are usually born broken. We are finite. However, it is always nice to keep living and see if we can beat this old game. We have three choices really: Kill each other off, create things in this world and learn whilst doing so, or die trying. Although an afterlife might be nice, this one is just fine in my book. OH OH OH. ALLLLSOOOO... Remember the love? The love you feel or felt towards your parents, the love you feel with a partner or the love you seek? Well, we love our parents because they nurture us, brought us into this world. There is no other reason. We are obligated, our mind are manipulated from birth. Then the hormones, the chemicals. They prepare your reproductive organs and body for sex with another human. The "love" we seek is another impulse. We want to reproduce. There is no free will, only the design set in place by a creator or by evolution. The sadness you feel is caused by a chemical too. And the happiness. I wouldn't recommend death as a solution to this life, but I think the only peculiar thing is that this same mind often times ends up killing itself. Here's an interesting concept. The pain you may have felt writing that, possibly anger towards some people who have hurt you, it's uncomfortable. It impairs you, feeds the growing desire in you to stop living. Now see through their eyes. The painful lives they've lived, their troubled brains that are so blind to how much they hurt you. Perhaps they don't know the pain enough to care, or know it too much to pity you. They may be tired too, angry at the world because all of the love they gave was never returned. We all do things for a reason, and if we could read minds I'm sure we'd all be a lot more empathetic.