MDLineArt

Ok, right out of the gate: Nighttide Whisper: Prince (Yes we're going for a colt) of Fevered Dreams (We're going to encroach him on Luna Territory, because we're gonna tie him into the Nightmare Moon plot) The reason he breaks the fourth wall is because as the Prince of Fevered Dreams, he is put into bouts of madness. In fact, his dark secret is that he is indirectly responsible for Luna becoming Nightmare Moon. I think that's enough face-palm to work with. So here's the question: Do you think we can turn this core concept and execute it in a way that could go from face-desk to kinda awesome?

@@Loud Opinion "I don't know why, that just seems to be crushingly disappointing..." Bashful couldn't even try to feign it. He would hear stories of the big city, that of high society, of busy streets and towering structures that stand as monoliths to the greatness of the city itself. To hear this pony speak of it so made things just a little less hopeful. Pushing his tea to the side, he raised a hoof sheepishly to the waiter. "Another cup of tea please!" The waiter smiled and nodded, making a passing remark on how Bashful never seems to actually drink his tea. There was an awkward silence after that, where Bashful Thread continued to dwell on what Dust had mentioned. Bashful couldn't understand why it stung as it did, but he knew it did. Feeling along his pockets, he looked through his pockets, and pulled out a few gems and placed them on the table. "I guess it will never be as good as you hope, you hear the stories and you expect it to be everything the stories say, but it's always better in your imagination." Taking hold of the spoon he began to stir the cooling tea in front of him as he waited for another cup.

@@Loud Opinion Bashful Thread's ears dropped down at the comment about the evil laugh. "I didn't mean to come off as ominous. I was just meaning that I think it's good you came out here..." The timid pony looked down at his tea again, and let out a soft sigh. Taking the beret from his lap, he placed it back upon his head. "... and I couldn't do an evil laugh if I tried. I'm... not what you would call intimidating." It was tough for him not to choke on his own words. The last statement was an out right lie, not because he wanted to be intimidating, but history has proven time and time again that a part of him scared others, and even himself. It's one of the reasons he came here, to forget and simply 'be' a part of the community of Ponyville, watching it go on and taking in those small pleasures of a simple life. Maybe Dust wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his nerves and the lie, after all, it all was rooted from the same mess. "Too much architecture? All uniform? I would have thought the city was a buzz with excitment. All those people gathered around, going about their day to day, something exciting has to pop up very quickly. I was told it was a fast city. Not like here...:"

@@Loud Opinion "Black Sheep of the Gold family? You look like you have enough gold on you, I don't see the black... or wool for that matter." Trying to force a smile, trying to warm to the newcomer to his table. Gold Dust's posture changed drastically, like something caught him off guard. What was he thinking about? Clearly he was at least for a moment, uncomfortable, almost mirroring an expression that Bashful Thread had done more than a few times. "I've never been to Manehattan. Spent more time in small towns, everyone is just so much more joyful and caring here! Maybe, maybe it's good you're here then, a fresh start. Everyone needs it after a while. I.. I know I do. It's like wearing a new suit. The clothes make the pony after all, and you can re-make yourself. Ponyville is a good place for that." Bashful Thread started looking at his tea, seeing his reflection in it. "Yea... It's a good place for it. So... What is Manehattan like?"

This has been stuck on infinite loop for the past four hours as I am RPing my OC and making the new signature:

@@Loud Opinion, "Good Company?" Bashful reached up and took off his beret, placing it on his lap and letting the messy dark green mane reveal itself and all it's 'glory'. "Um, I guess. I-I don't mean to be nervous, it's just... Well, nopony comes up and sits with me. I'm just enjoying a tea, not trying to bother anypony. Maybe you could say I am just trying to get away from the quiet." Bashful shifted a bit on that last statement. It was the quiet that let him focus on himself, the introvert he normally was, and he was still recovering from his encounter with another stranger, and some of the things he saw, especially in himself. Don't focus on that! he would tell himself. He was interacting with a new person, it was a good time to practice. "I've just been doing a lot of thinking about m-my family. Haven't seen Mother in some time, I know she's busy, and she tries to make time for us, but it's been hard lately. Things just don't work out like you hope, I guess. At least I have some friends to stay with, making a living as a tailor, though I am a bit of an apprentice. It's... Oh, I am so sorry, I am jabbering on. I do that when I get nervous, I guess. It's not every day I see a Pegasus. A-are you from Cloudsdale?" Maybe it would be best to let Gold Dust do the talking. He definitely seemed more confident in his own skin,

Ok, so after a discussion broke out about what people hated about OCs, I thought it would be fun to purposely build an OC based on what everyone hated, and trying to spin it a way to make it interesting. I am likely to fall flat on my face on this one, but I figured I ask for some consensus. So far, the two biggest prominent features are it has to be an Alicorn, and it has to feature Black and Red as core colour palette, so that has some of the visuals down. What else could we do and try to reverse engineer a three denominational character out of it (The WORST way to build an OC). But just to make it interesting, I want a curve ball from some of the community. First Three suggestions of what you commonly HATE about some OCs, and let's see if I can find a way to make it interesting rather that face-desk soul-crushingly bad. Expect this to fail gloriously!

@@Blitz Boom It was exquisite, even if it was of broken spirits. Why had he held back so long? In the halls he trotted forward, feeling the cold stone under his hoofs, hear the dripping of moisture from the roof to the rock below, that taste of mold in the air, and the band of prisoners now tasting freedom. That rush was adrenaline, was filling him like fuel, their emotions felt like a torrent compared to the tiny amount he allowed himself for months now. It's always been for feeding his sisters and brothers, but now, now it was all his. Peering into the dark, there was something else. At first he thought Giddon got ahead of him somehow, but the figure was leaner, and it's walk was all different. Another Griffon? Inside his own head, Scissor Biter tried to regain himself. It's a struggle to find yourself in your own heart when it is filled with the chattering of billions of family. Something no pony really understands, for Scissor Biter, for Bashful Thread, you can be anyone, but you are a part of something bigger, a family, a swarm, trying to maintain an idea of 'Self' becomes all to difficult. Scissor Biter may be a coward, but his family made him stronger, tapping into that instinct, that hive mind. Every time he went into it though, he lost his reason, the ability to ask questions, independent thought. Instead, he had to dig to 'come back'. Right now, he may look like a large Pegasus, but inside he was a drone, an extension of a larger consciousness, operating on parameters, and without hesitation throwing himself at whatever objective was given. Scissor Biter moved as instinct dictated, rushing forward to intercept this" griffon cultist". There was however, that tiny voice, that pleading to stop, to get the prisoners and himself out of here, trying to push through the scraping and the skittering and the sound of wings. That beautiful voice that calmed him during storms, Mother, in his heart, but her hold was not finished. Inside himself he pleaded with the voice that wouldn't let him go, but he was so small. Even if he shown himself to be a powerful pony, he was just so small on the inside.

@@Loud Opinion Bashful Thread sat at the small elegant table, with his tea sitting before him still steaming. He watched the small crowds passing by, occasionally playing with one of the many pins in his beret, taking in the scenes, the sight of people gathering and enjoying one another's company, the smell of the tea and baking goods, the taste of morning dew on the back of the throat, and the warmth of the morning sun. It's all about the simple joys really, taking in the scenery, the companionship. And it appeared one of those little joys would be approaching him, a Pegasus walking towards him. Taking up the cup of tea, Bashful Thread inhaled the aroma deeply, but as the pony came closer he found himself shaking a bit, getting nervous. Trying to calm down, he put down the cup, and tried to make eye contact, even a smile even if it was nervous. "Um... Hi. N-No, the seat isn't taken... My name is Bashful Thread... What's yours?" Bashful's eyes started to watch in small glances the individual. Yellow mane, beautiful sky blue, even an ornate jewel around the hoof. What was most peculiar was the Cutie Mark, a broken crown... You could tell a lot from a pony's cutie mark, but this one wasn't as direct. It was more the body language that told a bit of the story, but it was still tough to look up to this pony. Still, there are some instincts you can't shake though, and some habits that you never break.

Sorry to hear that D. Must be pretty bad if ya gotta get out of the RP. Just want ya to know that you are gonna be missed, and I hope when things settle for a bit you will consider returning. Best of luck to you in the future, and keep fighting

@@Blitz Boom, Hey Blitz, sorry for the lateness of the post, but posted first thing when I got back into town (Celebrating Easter with family, should have made a status, my bad). Anyway, I hope that the lengthy post is mildly horrifying, showcasing how easily a hive-mind can over-ride personal self-interest and self-identity. Got the job done, but Bashful's weakness goes into full force here, that fear and want to over come it will set him into a sudo-drone state, in which case that 'Shy Tailor' is gone, and what is left... well, it isnt pretty. Oh, and the song he was humming: I use it as a touchstone for Bashful Thread/Scissor Biter. Enjoy

@@Blitz Boom, It was all Bashful Thread could do to keep his nerves under control. It was a large task, to do all alone, no one in his corner to back him up. Isolation was never his strong suit, but he would be banished to the moon before he let that get the better of him. Taking a moment, he began to hum, closing his eyes as though remembering a lullaby from a time long past. After a moment, he seemed to collect himself. "You get the guards... I got the others. Mother loves me, nothing can go wrong now!" This out of place comment may not make sense to Giddon, but to Bashful it was what he needed to remind himself. He began to change his direction, beginning the hunt for those who were being processed. Watching along the corridors, he followed many of the paths to no avail, trying not to make eye contact, letting them pass him by among as one of them. "Mother loves me, Mother is here, because I am here. We are here, I am here, so She is too. She won't let harm come to what is hers. She won't let me get hurt." He whispered to himself, as he listened, not with his ears, but his heart, that place where Mother always whispers. Bashful could hear it, the buzzing of wings, the chittering of his brothers and sisters, and that song, the one that left his lips filling him with that tiny bit of courage. The sight changed, he was different, because he wasn't alone, even if the hall was long and empty. The chorus in his heart, the backbeat of membrane wings, "We the swarm will take whatever lands upon our plates We don't care what price we must pay! And in any kind of weather we all have to stick together, And we don't want it any other way! Let's FEED!" Predatory instinct. Those in the hall were sustenance, a means to drink in that love and admiration, opportunity lands itself before him. There was strength to take, to make his own, to make the swarm's. It was then he turned the corner, and saw the cells. Many of them were earth ponies and pegasi, shackled as they listened to one of the cultists drone on and on. They look starved, huddled together to keep warm in the dark damp brickwork of their prison. From under the hood, Bashful's eyes... no... Scissor Biter's eyes locked upon his first feast. It was all he could do to keep his fangs from showing as all he wanted to do was drink in all this brainwashed cultist's little passion left, as he passed on belief like a disease. Scissor Biter couldn't hear him though. His mind was miles away, among the chatter of his brothers and sisters, nestled under the heart of his Queen, Mother watches, Mother loves, Mother protects. It was so easy now, he could not understand the fear he felt, it was like a foreign concept now, alien. Now there was a different relationship with the world... A predator lurking among it's prey. Scissor Biter walked up to the cultist, a small earth pony who's mane was a cold ice blue. That's as much detail as he could gather before his hoofs moved on their own, coming down upon their mouth. Pulling them by the head into the dark away from the torch, the figure tried to yell out, but only a peep could be heard as that green slime substance left the mouth of Scissor Biter and bound the cultist's voice with a quickly hardening cocoon. The thrashing was over as quick as it began, there was a reason this one was teaching and not guarding the gates, and with Scissor Biter's current form, there was enough muscle to overtake the small one. Looking over the body at the edge of the torch light, there was a small flash of green flame, and from the darkness, the figure of purple, massive and winged appeared, carrying keys from the unconscious pony, he walked to the cells, his eyes deep and focused as the cell unlocked. The unlocking of the cell was met with reactions of several of the prisoners pulling away. "I'm getting you out of here." The words were a bit robotic, words not of his own but what was agreed to be said. Extending a hoof to help those remove their chains, he felt their sense of hope rise, he was a hero in their eyes, if only for that moment. Admiration, a superficial love, was more than enough with the numbers in this cell, and he could feel it pulse through his veins. FEED! FEED!! FEED!!! As quickly as they got excited for escape, they went to an almost hypnotic melancholy again. They came out one by one, hanging onto one another to keep balance, it was clear the conditions that they were put through. Scissor Biter could empathize if he was capable at the time, hunger was the killer of all. But not for him, not now. Here, he feasted, and that strength was pouring through him. Leading them through corridors, it was too big of a group to get them all out without detection. There was consensus, keep feeding, keep getting stronger, power through. Flashbacks of bashing his body against a city-wide shield came to him, and Scissor Biter understood. Throw himself into the fray, because he is not alone, the swarm is with him, and with them he will prevail. Changelings are considered and treated as monsters. He was about to provide a reason for this belief. So what was that tiny voice among the swarm? Ignore it, move forward....

@, Sorry to hear that Veil, hope to see you well if you return. Will keep a spot at the table for ya

@@Blitz Boom "How am I doing?" He would have thought that was obvious. He was now in the middle of a cult, going after an artifact he had no clue about, indoctrination, or worse, waited for them down these halls, and he was dressed like some lunatic. "I'm... I'm scared, Terrified! Joints won't stop shaking, and everything here looks... Wrong." Bashful continued to push the pace though, maybe for hopes that he would be out of here soon. The halls were dark save for that unnatural light that flickered and cast long shadows down upon the floor, making mice appear to have the silhouettes of monsters, and there was a breeze that whistled and howled among the cracks making it sound like they were surrounded by ravenous nightmares. It was all Bashful Thread could do to not hoof it out of there as quickly as his legs would carry him. It seemed Giddon was doing well though. Maybe his years of this life hardened him, and here it was useful. There was something about him that made Bashful feel safer around him, that some how things will be ok. Maybe there was something in the air that was making him delusional. Bashful wouldn't put it past these cultists.

Sorry all for not posting regularly. Still kinda struggling with this format of RP.

@@Blitz Boom Bashful tried to keep his composure as he lead Giddon to the front gate where two cultists had stood guard, armed with swords at their hilt. Earth ponies, from the look of them, but you could not be sure what hid underneath those robes. Still, they stepped forward, observing Giddon but paying no mind to the one leading him on. "Another to join our cause. Bring him inside with the others, the ceremony will begin shortly." The voice was monotone, stating everything as a 'matter of fact'. It was cold, lifeless, and brought about memories of some of Bashful's brothers and sisters among the hive, little more than drones and extensions of Queen Chrysalis' will, just given a voice. What was this ritual they talked about, and what cause brought them to it? So many things he didn't understand. He tried to mimic the tone all the same but it's more difficult than people may think to stay monotone without sounding ridiculous. "Yes. The ceremony." Bashful gave Giddon a hard push with his hoof to start walking forward, trying to convince the others that he was in complete control of the situation. In reality, he could only be thankful that the hood covered his nerves. He was gonna get it from Giddon after this for pushing him.