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About FancyHorse

  • Rank
    Reformed Changeling
  • Birthday 06/14/1995

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

  • Best Pony
    A certain dark stallion.
  • Best Anthropomorphic FiM Race

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
    The Pale Blue point of Light in a vast cosmos.
  • Personal Motto
    The best way to solve problems, is to find connections.
  • Interests
    The Arts are my favorite hobby, besides blasting about hapeless AI in video games.

    I generally sit about after work and contemplate about sociopolitical economic policies and it's failures and all other important matters... like ponies I suppose.

    Pacifist by heart, Realist by nature.

MLP Forums

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  • Favorite Forum Section
    Everfree Empire Roleplay

Contact Methods

  • Skype
  1. Merry Birthiversary!

  2. Pleasant fetal transmogrification day; you are missed.  

  3. You, is it? from BC?

  4. Sign me up!
  5. Happy birthday Clocky! ^^

  6. Merry Birthiversary! 

  7. Never has Evil looked more fabulous than our Dark Lord.
  8. Once again, it stirs with life.

  9. @genessee @Hazard Time So he was from a vault, confirming it at least. His rather careless attitude returning and giving more grief against his company. Only reason he doesn't put a bullet in him is he's useful. He examines his rifle. RAIDER STRAIGHT PULL RIFLE DMG 42 DPS 71 RLD SPD 2.2 Secs CPTY 6 Rnds He pulled back onto the barrel shape grip retracting and the chambered round dropping as he detached the side magazine. His grimy scope lens closed with their dangling cover caps. "One of them nicer rifles. You should hold it." He simply sat back, resting against one of the large ventilation shafts. Hearing Lance's comment he grimaced. Bad taste in experiencing new drug recipes. He kept quiet though. Already too tuckered in just a short period of time after the battle- Stimpaks also having a side effect of slight fatigue. Overstimulating your cells will do that to you. He simply returned to watching the brilliance of the warm fire before them, eyes occasionally looking to Ametrine. Just to check on her.
  10. @Hazard Time That soft giggle cracked a further smile. Something small yet to help alleviate the drabbness. A familiar expression he nearly forgot from a begotten life. @genessee The smaller one came back, taking seat between them. A slight crack in the little connection. Though a slight perk in his tone noting of his upbeat behavior. "Are you drunk again?" He asked, slightly unsure of his intention. He occasionally looked to the mare that familiar fire in her tone before she calmed down turning back to the fire. He kept with his slight smirk. His attentioned turned back again to Ametrine. A fine leather jacket on her frame. "Nice fit. It looks good to you." He says to her.
  11. @Hazard Time Their eyes met. The old spark of simple mutual benefit. Not a true friendship but a common interest. Camaradere. He gave a slight smile on his narrow muzzle. "Likewise." He says, giving relation to what she said at her last sentence. He shifts a little returning fixated at the fire- though a slight ease in tension at offically greeted by a new comrade. Been awhile since someone said something nice to ya. Stable folk are far and few between. His paws resting at his knees and rifle under his arms as he attained his focus. Lost in slight thought but aware enough if the mare spoke up. Hellhounds? Rare things he noted. "Nasty things yeah... Tried to plink at it from afar." He says, "Didn't do no good. Except run." He says. He shifted focus, "Others are odd off. I followed you and that Stable Dweller back at the neighborhoods. Glad I didn't pick you two off. A good thing we have found." He says.
  12. @Hazard Time He hid away his surprise, nothing was really unexpected but to find a mechanical mare? Some kinda advanced robot? Not that, that mattered it helped his ass in a fight. Might as well be sentient enough. He was always a quick adjustment to new things. "No wonder you ripped them apart easily. Not to diminish either mechanical or organic. You did well down there." He says, both contorting about her being whilst trying to uphold a compliment. "Kill or be killed. Only a good arm and wit gonna getcha through." That gruff stallion always had a blood thirst for firefight. His eyes look down to his scuffed, calesed paws. Roughed itching and scuffs, a slight peel in the skin. Fur is all dry and matted. His eyes felt dry. Again.