Hederik

I've been out of sorts for the last two days, sorry, will be responding tomorrow. And Silver Heart, I accept your application, surprise!

I'm terrible, but willing to expend myself on trying to get better.

Following a friend's advice, I've remade the second post of this thread into a database of all characters present in the Dark Millennium, which I will try and keep up to date.

@@Colenso Rivers, @@Once In A Blue Moon "Ah, typical," the stallion laughed, waving a hoof dismissively, "running you all ragged until you don't know which way is up. Some things never change," he sighed, even though he lost none of his jovial appearance. Having heard Cat's request, he grinned and bobbed his head. "Very important to keep the noggin' safe, yeah. Wish I had done the same for my poor back legs when I fought that hellish wyvern, probably wouldn't've been able to chew my legs clean like that. I forget, have I told you that story yet?" Off the top of the two ponies' heads, the stallion's legs were already lost to a horde of undead ponies, chewed off by a turtle (or was it a tortoise?) after being trapped during an avalanche, hewn off by a single strike of a particularly vicious training partner's blade and... something about a smithing accident. While the artisan made storekeeper prattled on without a hitch about his supposed battle against yet another being straight out of wild mythos, the incapacitated stallion nonetheless lost no time in grabbing a tape measure from a shelf behind him in a gentle telekinetic grasp and checking this and that dimension of the earth pony's head. "-next thing I knew, I was lying on a surgical table and watching shreds of those dreadful, thin fangs being extracted from what I had left of the hind legs," he finished, then suddenly levitated a helmet off one of the racks standing in this mix of living room, art gallery and toolshed of war. "Try this one on," he instructed, passing it to Carto so that she put in on herself. The object in question was marvelous, made of polished steel, with two obsidian bands running around it, one encompassing the temples and occiput, sticking forwards a little to shield the sides of its wearer's muzzle, and the other following the center of the head, elongated on the front end to serve as a visor as well. Noticing the mare's expression, Fair Lock laughed aloud. "No, dear, I won't be giving you this one, not unless you take the rest of the set too, and frankly I don't think you have the bulk for it. Come, though, put it on," he encouraged, and as she did so, used his magic to move it about on her head this way and that, testing how well it fit. "A little too wide, as I thought, but it's mostly right. I'll grab you something just right now, wait here a spell." Having said that, the stallion pushed himself off the chaise lounge, but instead of flopping on the floor, he landed on a little vehicle comprising of a flat cushioned seat and three small wheels attached to it that he must have extracted from beneath his seat at some point during the conversation. He looked quite hilarious, a muscular front of a pony attached to a thin body mounted on a board with wheels. He was far from pathetic on it though, in a single shove of his powerful front legs propelling himself across the room towards a door that led to yet another storage depot and disappearing inside. A few moments and a little clangor later, he reemerged, holding in one foreleg another helmet that he carelessly chucked towards the mare, then with a laugh caught in telekinesis a feet or so before it reached her, holding it aloft for her inspection. This one was a little more down-to-earth, but still not too shaggy itself, with a thick steel dome ending in a minute cap above the eyes. There was no visor, but towards the end, the leather serving as inside cushioning ended in two elongated flaps with thinner plates of metal attached to these, serving as additional protection for the back of its wearer's neck. "This one should fit perfectly," the quartermaster said with a wink, closing the door behind him and pushing himself towards his guests rather than back to the reading couch.

Oh it is on. Fair, mah man, carve us a dozen d6s, with a few directional ones. So you see. The easy ones are done, the harder ones not known well enough, and anyway I've never been the best in writing a few hundred words about nothing, useful as such ability would have been throughout the course of education. And anyway we have a better alternative planned already, so it's a moot point.

@@Colenso Rivers Very well. I'm warning you though, this is pretty much ancient history (it was more than a thousand years even in the canon Equestria and we're a good space of time later). Aside from variants and speculations around the story on the basis of which the Mane Six staged a play for Hearthswarming Eve there isn't much to know. I will welcome active participation in the lecture, however. And the rhythm was always so - and won't be. But have it however you wish, there is no rush.

@@Colenso Rivers I didn't, and it's a valid question. Most of the pegasi are participating in the flight training, while there's more sparring, perhaps some muster for the other two races (species? subtypes?). That part will most likely be skipped over in actual roleplay, although it might yet change. Towards the evening, there are more 'brainy' activities, including a history/literature class dealing with pre-Equestrian history (not entirely a new topic to your characters, and one upon which you have done some reading in preparation for what is to be discussed). The late evening is unscheduled, possibly leaving you some free time.

@@Once In A Blue Moon, @@Colenso Rivers The way to the academy's depository of armor and weaponry took them a few levels down. As the front doors they were now leaving behind were on the ground level (what was ground level this high up the mountain anyway), it meant they were now leaving the part of the school that was built and entering that which had been dug into the mountain upon the side of which the complex building rested. There were doors aplenty opening on the corridors they traversed - except they were all locked shut. A few dead-end pathways branched from the one Colenso and Cat were in, leading to even more impassable entrances. Cadets themselves would rarely come this way, but it was common knowledge that these were the warehouses of the academy, containing mostly lots and lots of training equipment, as often as not worn down to shreds by years of heavy use. Unsurprisingly, there were a few preposterous notions about this underground as well, the most notable of which had an entire race of underground ponies living in tunnels that led throughout the entire mountain range surrounding Pony Valley, with some of these doors serving as passageways between the two worlds. Others theorized that the academy was perfecting a new species of dust that would actually go away when blown onto. Despite not having any reason to visit this part of oxymoronic, high altitude basement itself, the officers in training nonetheless knew the paths through them rather well, for there was an area of crucial importance located underneath them, even deeper within the mountain. Given away from afar by the temperature steadily rising the lower they got, there lay the academy's forges. What incredible engineering feat made it possible was uncertain (it would most likely take an emotionally-subdued introverted geologist to even wonder at it), but the majority of heat necessary for this craft was supplied by several troughs, though which there was a constant circulation of lava, feeding into these from the walls themselves. Having swam a few feet through the open, the molten rock substance then disappeared back whence it came - into the unknown. Needless to say, the constant heat delivery combined with limited, bordering on nonexistent airflow created a stuffy atmosphere, very sauna-like in its nature. At present, the forges saw little use - there was some nameless soul hammering out the dents from an unornamented breastplate, but other than that the workstations were unoccupied. Having come this way for different reasons, the earth pony and unicorn duo passed by without any ado. Turning twice as the corridor led them, here branching to the sides no more, they came upon a chamber unlike any other within the school's walls: a comfortable one. Judging by the standard of its surroundings, it was downright luxurious. Several soft armchairs stood around a beautifully carved table, a dozen of halfway-done wood and stone sculptures standing in a wild disarray on its surface next to a chessboard complete with a full set of intricately detailed pieces.There were chests of various sizes lining the walls, as well as armor racks and weapon stands displaying some of the most masterful creations that could be seen in the academy. Upon many open shelves, even more sculptures stood, these ones finished - and how! Exact replicas of several major buildings found in Pony Valley, complete with minuscule figurines of ponies, bigger, very lifelike statuettes of ponies in various intense poses, a stunningly beautiful tree wrought of pure white marble, its leaves shards of jewels carved in astonishing detail. There were a few mythical creatures there as well: a changeling done in some unknown black wood, a dragon with tiny scales made from steel, a striped pony done in the same black wood interwoven with pale birch and many others... In a corner opposite the entrance, currently laid upon a chaise lounge and perusing some book, there was an ashen gray unicorn of a rather unusual body build. His front limbs were enormous, bulky appendages attached to a chest that was just as well muscled. Towards the hindquarters, the stallion's body thinned, to the point of looking emaciated around his cutie mark of crossed hammer and chisel. For those who beheld the quartermaster for the first time however, that wasn't as much of a shock as the fact that the unicorn's body ended there, only an ever-greasy red-and-orange tail and two nigh-invisible stumps of legs adorning the sickly behind, making him look very much like half of a pony. Presently, he heard the clop of their hooves and looked upwards, brightening immediately. "Visitors!" he cried, clamping the book shut with his hooves and placing it daintily into a heavy-lidded chest standing beside his sofa before pulling himself a little upwards. "Come, come! Who have we here? Ah, yes, the young cartographer, Carto... Drawing? Sketch, that's it! And you must be, uh..." he appeared troubled, looking over the other unicorn critically, then shook his head. "Sorry, my mind is void." Suddenly, he laughed loudly, and patting his side exclaimed, "Sorry, just pulling your leg, Colenso, a lonely craftspony having his fun. Come then, what brings you two to my solitary kingdom? Have you time for some fun and games with old Fair Lock? Or have you maybe brought me some tasty tales?" he asked vigorously. The stallion's behavior was far from abnormal - for him at least. Spending most of his time secluded in the academy's dungeons, he nonetheless appeared to know of mostly everything that went on above him and all parties involved. He was also an absolute bookworm, quite possibly having read every title available in Pony Valley's library as well as the academy's own. For all his talkativeness and love of gossip, the stallion's past was a mystery, one not unlike others that could be found in the school, as there was a myriad of stories and theories surrounding it. Contrary to other matters, however, the quartermaster himself was the source of ever new versions, gladly sharing them with any willing listener. There might as well have been a few entirely truthful confessions among these and nopony would be the wiser for them.

@@Once In A Blue Moon Does "not amused" count as a cringe? I'm going to count it and let it make my day. I certainly have been giggling stupidly about it long enough. I'd have to catch up on my Sun Tzu before I feel confident in describing a lecture in the art of war, but there is a touch of inspiration in what you said. Commencing writing. SELF-EDITED A FEW HOURS LATER TO ESCAPE THE AWESOME MERGING TOOL The post is progressing nicely, but at 3k characters I still have at least one paragraph to finish and my shift is ending, so I'll most likely post it in a few hours, once I get back home and find a moment to spare.

I'm actually quite flattered by the interest the Dark Millenium is getting, even though it is unwaveringly a bitter duty to decline applications. And I'm always happy to answer questions regarding the setting to help the entire experience be that much smoother.

@@Once In A Blue Moon Perhaps not much is known about the purpose of being schooled in general, but the Cadets (well, most of them) are intelligent ponies capable of figuring out that there is probably going to be some point at which all their training and abilities are going to be put to use. So that pathfinder comment is perfectly fine. As to brushing past non-important matters, I'll admit I'm a little at a loss as to what else to squeeze in before really beginning the action, but I'll figure something out. Such attempts at postponying are due to the fact I expect one more player to join the crew sometime this week and I'd like them to participate in the action as it starts.

@@Once In A Blue Moon, @@Colenso Rivers Having been left alone with the prospect of breakfast, Cirrus shrugged mutely, went on alone and was nowhere to be seen by the time everyone else came in. She was supposed to participate in today's extended flight maneuvers, so perhaps she'd gone to mingle with the other pegasi beforehoof. Within the hall itself, a typical, random mixture of everything could be heard, from amiable conversation, through teasing and mocking up to heated discussions. Presently, just as the two Cadets were about to head out of the room, one particularly unlikable voice ringed nearby, deep and spiteful. "-all these bigwigs about, I tell ya, we'll get our asses handed to ourselves a dozen times today," a few agreeing statements followed before the first voice rose in a yell of, "Careful with that spoon!" after which a clatter of metal could be heard. Turning reluctantly, they beheld the unsurprising sight of Jade Facet, a lumbering mass of an earth pony with his usual escort of twin unicorn siblings, neither of them particularly tall - and next to their leader, looking like runts. The three near-graduates were universally disliked, even in the group to which they belonged, but cared little for it, perhaps even thrived in it. At the moment, Jade was looming over a young pegasus officer, her muzzle splattered with porridge and a spoon laying beneath her bench seat. She was very focused on looking away from the bully standing behind her; something that couldn't be said about a pair of her colleagues sitting on the opposite side of the table, yet none of them was rash enough to stand up to the massive earth pony. "Good choice to ease on the chowder," the ridicule continued with a chorus of sniggering to back it up. "Rumor is, Star's going to be on the hunt today for fatsos like you, easy to catch and gobble," this was accompanied by the earth pony's jaws clamping right next to the mare's ear. "Not so easy to gobble, though," the unicorn brother piped in. His real name had something to do with water, but by now everyone knew him only by the nickname bestowed on him probably by the bundle of muscles he so blindly followed - Jinx. His sister, of whom there were a couple particularly nasty theories circulating around, went by Minx, and wasn't slacking in the delivery of raucous laughter at her brother's remark. Facet pantomimed measuring their victim, then said seriously, "Nah. Just a morsel for'em anyway." Noticing a lack of reaction from the pegasus and either overlooking or disregarding the glares from her companions, he waved a hoof dismissively and tossed his head, motioning his clique to follow him onwards. Star: one of the most popular legends among the officers, an unending source of teases, taunts and jeers from the older generations towards the younger ones, and apparently an absolute mess of exaggerations, myths and ghost tales that had been growing for years on end. According to different sources, Star was supposed to be either a stallion or a mare, a three-headed dog, a demon, a specter, a giant squid or a face carved into a mountain edge. Its (his, her?) abilities ranged from reading minds to shooting lightning out of the eyes and stopping time. Whenever anything reasonably relatable could be heard around this enigmatic name, it was immediately buried under a heap of suppositions and theories so wild it soon cast away any vestige of being real. As such, it lost its edge to anyone who attended the academy for longer than a few weeks and was generally perceived as a rather tasteless topic. Therefore, hearing the bulky bully abuse it was no novelty or surprise. The nasty group moved on, passing Colenso and Carto without notice, but Minx did unfortunately spot them eventually. Her expression was solemn as she addressed the mare in a calm voice, "Yo, Kitty Cat," said she, dragging the vowels lazily. "Look out for them generals, you might get a promotion soon." With that, she trudged on beside the other two, who stopped and stared with disbelief after her. Taking note of that, the mare turned and shrugged. "What? I hear one of their hoofstools broke recently." The trio broke into a fit of laughter that lasted until they were quite a distance away, probably sparing a few souls from more brilliant insights.

Managed to close that page without clicking on any links. Four hours saved, so much win! Also, it may console you to know they aren't created just to die. Which makes them even less relevant, I guess. In your faces, nameless Cadets. I can't exactly imagine the anatomical process behind contracting a hoof, but I have no problem with such being employed by you - or anyone else for that matter. The equipping time I'd imagine to be rather long for this easily working against someone who is just downed, not subdued, but we can turn half of a blind eye towards it. And I'm somehow sure you'd find a way to make it work in a tight spot nonetheless.

@@Colenso Rivers, @@Once In A Blue Moon Cirrus shook her head and Midnight whistled, marveling at the force that must have gone into the blow that caused such bruising. Afterwards, Cat's sly wit elicited a snigger from the male, but he quickly became serious again as the matter of Ardent's fighting techniques was brought up. "That's just it," he said, glancing at the fellow unicorn. "Like Cat's saying, she's ridiculously fast. And extra strong, I mean, most earth ponies I've trained with had their hooves full just trying to tip me and she straight up lifted, carried for a good few meters and then sent me flying like that? That is weird," he ended, looking ponderous. Cirrus clicked her tongue and directed a disbelieving glare at Midnight. "A typical quitter song. I can't do that but she can, she must cheat is where I stand. Or is it just jealousy speaking?" she added inquisitively, turning her head curiously. "You haven't seen her-!" began an indignant reply from the armored stallion, cut short by the mare. "Oh yes I have - a pegasus needs to see everything happening around - and our modest friend here isn't doing her justice. Also, you're forgetting how much farther in training than us she most likely is. Three, four years at the least is my guess?" By now they have reached the dormitory, where Midnight immediately began levitating pieces of his armor off his body onto a rack standing behind the head of his bed. "Thing is," he argued, some of his words coming out muffled as the space between them was obstructed by the flying metal plates, "we have faced more than a few elder officers. For pony's sake, I have once beaten-" "- Colonel Twine, with his own quarterstaff," the others said in unison, having heard of that feat dozens of times before. Midnight had the decency to look abashed, but went on despite that. "None of these ponies displayed abilities beyond what is reasonably possible to achieve," he stressed, rejoining them so that the group could resume their walk towards the mess hall. "Oh, and you're such a great judge of what is possible to achieve," chortled Cirrus. "Like when you almost peed yourself hearing you'll be fighting Colonel Twine with his quarterstaff," she teased cheerfully. Midnight bowed his head in clear annoyance, although there was a blush he was trying to conceal as well. "That was a long time ago," he muttered, and fell silent. The hush went on until they reached their destination, currently bustling with activity as officers of various ages, ranks and standings came and went from the breakfast being served. Midnight broke off towards the right, where the academy's baths beckoned him with a promise of a shower, asking before he went if any of them would be joining him, to which Cirrus replied with a laugh, seeming to have unending amounts of good humor for today, "You may not be, having spent the training catching a nap, but some of us have actually worked out hard and are famished!" The double doors were open, as usual, revealing behind them an oblong, spacious hall, well lit and aired thanks to a row of high and slim, currently unshuttered windows on either side wall. In the spirit of military practicality, the seating spaces were two massive trestle tables, with long benches running on either side of them. On the far right of the hall, on a slightly raised dais located to the side of the room, a smaller, although still sizeable, rectangular wooden table marked the elite's table, where the highest ranking officers would confer together and escape the commotion at least somewhat. Currently, there were a good few ponies sitting around it; definitely more than would be the daily usual, although the number of those top-notch warriors seemed to fluctuate uncontrollably form week to week, which has long ceased to amaze anyone. Beyond that, the turn-up was pretty standard, with ponies milling to and from the open kitchen set up in the corner opposite from the high table. Of what it had to offer, the Cadets were free to pick and choose, grabbing as many helpings as they wished and expected to be able to keep in during the mid-day exertions.

@ Your shift key appears to be broken, you should contact somebody about that. I don't necessarily require long paragraphs of my players, but compliance with the setting and an adequate sense of grammar are a must. There is no "higher ups lab" or any reason for a magic-possessing earth pony mutant to be created therein, so under the risk of sounding draconian, I'm refusing your application as well. @@Colenso Rivers, @@Once In A Blue Moon Feel free to do anything you like in the midst of my post if you will, I just didn't want to break it up for fear of stretching this initial chapter endlessly. Also, I don't mind you making up other Cadets within the mess hall (within reason, of course), if you'd like to prompt some interaction that way. And the decision is yours, obviously, to turn astray of what I described as the group's actions at any point.

@@Once In A Blue Moon, @@Colenso Rivers, Basically no one is fighting anymore. I'm giving you a little space to exchange pleasantries or something, I dunno. In any event, tomorrow I'll move the plot a step forwards to the day's most important meal. I. HATE. HOW THE POST MERGING MECHANISM WORKS. Okay, this was too perfect for a quick Google search not to post. In all seriousness, however, I am now officially attempting to explain that which somehow escaped my wording, and no wonder. Before the main course however, a couple general remarks: - this is done hastily and sloppily - the grinning moron on the left is Cat (no offense, just grabbed the first random code there was) - the generic nothing on the right is Ardent - the skewed lines represent the floor - despite its crudeness, this can actually prove to be an effective way of explaining what the hell is happening in the heat of battle And here's the graph:

@@Colenso Rivers, @@Once In A Blue Moon The last fight wrapped up soon as Cirrus and her partner were able to take out one of their opponents in a flanking maneuver, then finish off the second with minimal losses. Afterwards, the major instructed them to revive their comrades and head on down for breakfast, then leapt up and exited the hall via the balcony. Looking in that direction, the two officers noticed Midnight groggily gathering himself from the sprawl in which he lay, but Ardent Rush was nowhere to be seen, probably having left even before the supervising officer in much the same way. Once the armored unicorn recovered himself enough to walk and Cirrus made sure her first opponent got out of his close encounter with the wall in one piece, the group was ready to go for breakfast, this time able to adopt a more leisurely pace as their schedules always had a sizeable gap left for the first meal of the day. Thanks to that, whether the first training sessions ended on time or a little late, everyone would have enough time to eat in peace. Oftentimes, there was even long enough left afterwards for the Cadets to pursue an activity of their own choosing. The walk wasn't overly long, even though the mess hall was located in the lower levels of the central segment of the academy, in the near vicinity of the One Way Door - the gates opening onto the descent towards Pony Valley. The path thither overlapped with the way towards their dormitory as well; a substantial perk of the particular training hall they were assigned to for the morning. Before they even passed the door on their way out, Midnight's helmet took on a bright orange glow and removed itself from his head, guided by the unicorn's magic, in the embrace of which it stayed for the time being. Letting out a sigh of relief, he then winced a little, missing a step as a sharp pain flashed through his back. "I don't know about you," he addressed his three companions, "but I'm dropping all this garbage and hitting the showers before I eat anything." Another few steps, and another grimace shot through his face. "That she-devil," he hissed through gritted teeth, then quickly straightened back up, "which poor soul did she thrash while I was out? I do hope Major Tide didn't loose her onto one of these two newbies..." "Actually, I believe she fought our two fellows right here," piped in Cirrus, helpful as ever. Not having been shown up today has visibly put her in a high spirits. Midnight turned a disbelieving gaze towards Carto and Colenso, eyeing them suspiciously. "And you're none the worse for wear? Man, teaching me to fly must have left her more tired than I supposed," he chuckled, then after a moment asked despite himself with an undertone of worry, "You didn't... beat her, did you?"

The way I see it, using magic requires concentration more than anything else. Therefore, the biggest forte of unicorns in general is multitasking, practiced from a very young age, which allows them to exert magical influence while, say talking, running or punching somebody's face in. Managing several objects/forces at once becomes exponentially more difficult, facilitated only when they form a set somehow, although even then much practice is needed to get it right. Hence I perceive your character's six knives a particularly advanced weapon to wield. Back to the point, however, when a unicorn wants their magic to accomplish something really hard, they can redirect more of their divisible concentration towards it. First off, that would mean stopping performing any other conscious activities, then shutting senses off one by one, most likely beginning with sight. Should even that not suffice, the unconscious can be borrowed from a little as well, slowing the breathing and heartbeat - and these would show on the surface as exhaustion. Beyond that is one more reason. I should direly hope to be explaining this in the RP itself, but I realize that would mean dragging the "school year" chapter endlessly, so it's not feasible. What I mean here is that a pony's vitality is partially connected to their reserve of magic. Unicorns who use a lot magic will be particularly attuned to feeling this effect, so with said buffer being expended, they will feel "closer to dying" for lack of better phrase, which would also translate into tiredness. In a critical case, if a unicorn should come close to draining themselves dry, their organism may just shut down to prevent that from happening. Similarly, if an attempted feat should lie beyond the scope of a unicorn's concentration range, they will pass out from inadequate breathing and blood circulation before any serious damage can occur. I'm sure there could be found a lot of arguments based in the canon for and against this reasoning, but as eventually I'd just tell you to disregard them and stick with this vision, I don't see the point of seeking them out.

@@Once In A Blue Moon Ardent reacted in time to avoid the brunt of the attack by rearing suddenly. This did mean that she took it full force in the chest, which would knock the air out of anyone's lungs. Before that happened, however, she managed two quick, nonconsequential punches square into Carto's head, in her haste not aiming for any particular spot. When the headbutt did connect, Cat had a fleeting moment to wonder at how light her competitor seemed before finding herself on the receiving end of another kick, again delivered with both of the pegasus's rear hooves, as Ardent masterfully turned the ramming push into rotational energy mid-air. Her hooves connected with the younger mare's neck in a way that nearly choked her and forced her into a rearing stance of her own for just a moment. In an incredible show of flexibility, the pegasus alumna finished the backflip resulting from her kick, ending the whole lightning-fast exchange in the very same position she had occupied a second before. Exploiting the momentary weakness in the earth pony's footing, she bore forwards with her own tackle, diving under Cat's raised forelegs. Before the younger officer knew what was going on, she found herself stunned on the floor, all air forced out of her from the combination of the kick and being thrown down on her back hard. Ardent Rush was standing over her, the graduate's breathing slightly quickened and one front leg pressing lightly on the downed pony's larynx in a clear gesture of victory. Having given her defeated counterpart enough time to process the outcome, she stepped off and reached a hoof out to Cat to help her up. "You're on tough pony, girl," she said, flashing her a brief smile, then trotted over to Midnight and began a halfhearted attempt at making him come to. In a less than surprising result, half of the ten officers who came to this particular training were by now temporarily incapacitated. The teaching methods surely were rough, but those training for the worst circumstances should expect nothing less. As for those who were left standing, Cirrus was now apparently paired up with the other youngling, this one a unicorn, against the remaining two. For now, that left no available opponents for the earth pony mare.

Nothing to apologize for. I should have done a better job describing all the quirks of the reality I've placed this RP in if I were to expect you to observe all of them at once. I didn't, and I don't - life is learning, and so is RPing. But I do approve the idea of well-thought-out spells EDIT: If what I described in the last IC post was understandable, I have something to be proud of. Otherwise, this does not bode well, for I don't possess skill enough to illustrate these breakneck acrobatics in any other way than by crude stickmen, which would probably serve only to confuse everybody further.

@@Once In A Blue Moon Utilizing high speed in battle requires lightning reflexes of the user, most often making up tactics on the move, adapting their half-cooked ideas to the rapidly changing environment. Therefore, the charging pegasus didn't lose her cool even as she found herself being pushed downwards with some external pressure, forcing her onto a crash course with an armed earth pony. The other mare was clearly prepared for a ramming attack, and working around this in so short a space of time wasn't a possibility, so Ardent Rush decided on the next best option. She swung one foreleg to intercept a possible attempt at being stabbed, which at this angle could at best result in a shallow wound, while attempting a sideways punch with the other, attempting to push herself away from her opponent more than harm her in any way. It worked, albeit halfway only, as the downwards pull proved a nuisance once again, and the pegasus slammed in passing into Carto Sketch, pushing her a little but not doing anything beyond. Ardent, meanwhile, either because of Colenso's spell or the loss of control caused by her collision, failed her attempt to roll neatly on the floor next to Carto and landed heavily on her back instead, skidding painfully several feet with a screech of the metal plates in her armor against the stone floor. To her credit, she did at the end of said crash landing push off the ground with a wing and skillfully regained her footing. Expecting this to knock the fight out of the pegasus would have been too much, however. Proving herself to be almost as fast on her hooves as in the air, the elder officer ran up to Cat before she knew it, assaulting her frontally with two immediate punches, one of which knocked the knife out of grip, rattling her teeth, while the other was directed straight at her chest, being painful if nothing else.

Exactly. @@Colenso Rivers, As to the current course of action, I'm not entirely sold on that gravity spell; especially the part considering altitude. If we're talking relative altitude, as in distance from the nearest object denser than air in the downwards direction, than maybe it would make sense; absolutely, you're halfway up a mountain, for pony's sake, she'd bend time with how heavy she would get from that, probably knock a hole all the way to the Valley itself with her fall. That being said, I require and expect no changes in your post and to explain, I'll need to share two of my ideas about how the world works. Firstly, I see magic as an ability to exert force in a wild variety of forms, from shaves and pulls to creating elemental outbursts. It's like operating a ghostly hand: you know the movements necessary to do something. But knowing how to push an object with a hand does not mean you can knock down a wall, although all the gestures will be correct. The same I'd expect to be true for magic: you can try to make something blue, do all the right steps, and yet if for some reason it should oppose it, the effect might be different than what would have been expected. Thus, I approve listing the desired effects of a spell; just don't always expect it to work exactly in this way. Secondly, (I meant to mention it somewhere earlier, either in the introductory post or in the course of RP, but of course forgot to) ponies are naturally resilient to magic. That is not to say a pony can shrug off a fireball or laugh at a force pulse because those are the physical manifestations of magic. But trying to lift a pony against their will with telekinesis, stop a flow of blood in their veins, force them to perform a movement against their will would be nearly impossible. And I'd like to stress that this is something the Cadets would have known for quite some time, practiced working around, partially overcoming and au contraire, allowing themselves to be affected by a trusted one's magic (for example for some internal healing). Both of these point go against what is canon to a point, but the canon is a merry fairy tale and we're faced with a grim reality, so differences like these are a must. I can elaborate if you wish, preferably in the RP itself, but not necessarily. @@silvermoon15000, While I'm glad to see the RP gaining more popularity, I will have to refuse your application. The description provided is rather laconic, and from what other posts of yours I've glimpsed, this is a typical quality for your writing. The age you guessed a little low, the entire section of rambling about firearms you blatantly disregarded, there is no story behind your character's cutie mark and the personality you described just points to more no-interaction one-liners as an expectancy. So, sorry, but until you up the ante, I'm not game.

Cursive Initial was laying on the table in a pool of his own saliva, realizing belatedly just how uncomfortable it was. Never mind the gross self-drowning attempt; anyone who endured the atrocities of a southern jungle for a day could shrug such off as meaningless. Those who spent a night or a dozen sleeping therein wouldn't even notice something was out of place if not for years spent wrapped again in the comforts of civilization. No, what was so bad about playing dead on a high table was the awkward position he assumed in falling down. Despite trying to remain active, the stallion had his years and the pain currently growing in his back was threatening to really knock him out cold if he couldn't somehow escape this self-imposed predicament. He had considered sliding off the table and flopping limply on the blissfully level floor - imagine the effect of a presumed corpse flopping down! Preferably with a sickening squelch, although how to produce such a sound Initial didn't know. Unfortunately, the stallion's seat was wide and he was too well supported by it (not to mention lying on the table with a good portion of his front body) to convincingly fall down without displaying deliberate movement. Thus immobilized, the possum pony turned his attention to studying the effects his performance had on the other guests. Cherry launched into a full-blown drunken paranoia - poor girl, he would have to make it up to her somehow. Perhaps he could buy her that top hat she so vividly described? A volley of particularly nasty vulgarities directed at himself followed. For now content with such punishment, he returned to his examination. It appeared that the two leftover hostesses fled; at least that much of his plan (a pompous name for an idea not even thought through, true) went accordingly. But other than that, there have been gasps, and probably shivers, maybe some frightened soul was hugging another, perhaps there were even some prayers going on in a few minds. Where in the wallowing witches was the accursed panic outbreak?! What happened to fight or flight instinct? Would these ponies really sit there and await slaughter or whatever was to come in this psychotic-filled manor unless he stood up and told them what to do? But what were they supposed to do? And how sure could he be of the products of his own mind overflowing with suspicion and doubt? All the sound evidence there was included a death-threat-slash-invitation, a high as fudge homeowner, and... cryptic hostesses? A little shadow here and there? 'Back in my day we were more cautious of strange invitations,' he should tell them, 'and if we did go to a party, it took us a week to get there, but at least our parents knew where we were!' That should get them to panic alright, an old pony rambling. He barely contained a sigh. Realizing there was a presence near him, he deduced that someone was about to call his bluff in checking for signs of life. What course of action to take from here? Unless the attendant was a complete moron, continuing his charade was out of the question. He could play the most obvious card of 'drinking in this age' and pass off as a silly elderly pony, but such would label him as nigh-incapacitated, unable to care for himself and probably call a lot of attention to him now and at later occasions. The other possibility was launching into a parody of the princely bastard, waving hooves around to ward of invisible enemies and bolting out of here in staged dread, then... right. He hadn't a plan as to what to do outside of the room, especially if there was no one to serve as a distraction for him. And the poor victims would probably chase after him themselves, causing more harm than he could work around. So...? Stand up and tell them to start a revolution, arm themselves with chairs and broken bottles and march out? For all he knew, there could be an entire battalion stationed somewhere within the town, just waiting for the delusional prince's orders. Or an arcane caster or two, even better. A cold hoof touched a vein on his neck, while hot breath reached his ear. Typical enough for a simple checkup, but being stiff as he was, thinking rapidly and with his nerves on edge, the stallion reacted violently to the sudden contact, jerking himself upright with a huge gasp, only now realizing how shallow his breathing had become while he was playing his game. He briefly registered the pony standing next to him, then all went dark before his eyes as the abused back of the stallion refused to take one more strain and cracked loudly, flooding his mind with pain and sending him, without pretending this time, plummeting to the floor. Said surface turned out to not be as welcoming as his table-born thoughts would suggest. Giving up, "We eat a ton," he said to the floor that now was his home. Perhaps he could move from it, but for now he was content just lying there and trying to convince himself he wasn't in that much pain. The sounds came out wrong, however, mumbled and distorted. "We need a plan!" he repeated, almost yelling this time to make sure he would be heard and understood, discarding for now the thought of how surreal the entire situation must look.

@@Once In A Blue Moon, @@Colenso Rivers A dark shape fell from near the hall's ridiculously high ceiling a good distance away from the pair while they were exchanging plans. Just as they finished talking, it appeared seemingly out of nowhere, already wedged in between them and traveling at a breakneck speed. The action that followed took a fraction of a second, as the pegasus, apparently in the middle of a corkscrew spin, used its momentum to slam a punch into Colenso Void's side. The struck area was covered by armor - luckily, for the force alone was enough to make the stallion stagger in place, unable to jump away or do anything else as two strong forelegs wrapped around his neck, allowing Ardent Rush to deliver a powerful kick with both of her hind legs, aimed at the side of Carto Sketch's neck. The earth pony found herself pushed away a good few feet, but managed to hold her vertical position. The pegasus alumna didn't skip a beat, expertly using the opposite force from her kick to throw herself behind the unicorn, still holding his neck withing a tight lock. This resulted in Colenso being thrown violently backwards, flipping in the air as his attacker landed gracefully right behind where he stood so shortly before. She paused long enough to hear the sound of two almost concurrent crashes - one behind her as Void finally met with the floor, and another from above, where Cirrus eventually managed to outmaneuver the younger officer, causing him to ram into a wall at a high velocity. With the moment gone, hardly long enough to let her two victims register what had happened, she lunged at the earth pony mare, whom she expected to find stunned by the hit she had received, paying no mind to the unicorn for the time being.

Can't say I've tried the same, although I see the reasoning behind that. From my experience, in turn, moderating fights has almost always been necessary to dictate what went well and what didn't, especially once temperaments started to run hot and the fights weren't as insubstantial as was the case here. I once had to prevent a huge schizm about to happen in the game by making a duel end in defeat of both parties involved without anyone dying. And the players behind the characters were pretty determined to out the other one. Now that I think about this, it was one of very few cases where the players would stand against one another. So perhaps there's more food for thought in the matter than I expected. And I'm not one to denounce a good thing, so I can honestly say to have already benefited from my cooperation with the two of you. Thanks. ...but as a rule of the thumb, do not expect to fight anything other than yourselves without me having the last word EDIT: I'm in school tomorrow as well, so you can expect me popping in around the same time as today. Which with my tempo of one daily post doesn't seem to be an important information, but heck, I've already typed it.