abronymouse

daily AI abuse #1 I want a woofing horse. Can Microsoft help me?

Almost! I got a horse with a service dog jacket. While taken on as a police horse, it turned out that it used its enormous horse nostrils to detect contraband. It would work with the canine unit and the criminals of Gotham learned to fear its pursing whinny.

But not quite woofing...

just like MLP, the AI thinks woofing horses must have a screw loose (also WWoof is a reference to some horse training thing, which must be why it misspelled woof)

<3                                         

this song :3

In the coldest of all hearts 
A voice descends, the light departs  

(full pic)

It's too late for the rest now
But it's never too late for you
I'll share the truth
The end will come and take us
And the sun will bleed us dry
My church renewed
As promised soon

I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

:3

Where the rivers meet the coming red tide
I got miracles for those on my side
In the willows I built my steeple
My spirit, my church, my people
Newfound faith that's vested in me
Now our bloody hands will heal the unclean
In the wastes I raise my steeple
My spirit, my church, my people

A critical role reference D: the elf is Ludinis Da'Leth - I'm only up to ep 71 of campaign three, but Matt Mercer certainly builds a good villain >:3 Any other critter ponies still following?

There’s no shade in the shadow of the cross

Will you let yourself unwind
Put your soul on the line
Striving for a beginner’s mind

Give everything you've got
Before your life is caught in conditions
Be the first of its victims, the foot of a hill

Discord is the great ill of mankind; and tolerance is the only remedy for it. ~ Voltaire

Can't find any suggestion that Faust was thinking of this quote when she made Discord, but I'm really suspicious  

woo! first mini scene in my G3 cross-over fic drafted!

***

Through a charming little window-pane, luminous violet eyes wander dreamily over a sunlit rural scene. They belong to the little pony of our tail, Ocean Mist, whose furry fetlock rests on an open colouring book. The pale-blue fur of these is edged with green from a still-glistening attempt to bring life to a bean stalk, while the enormous booted feet of the felled giant of that tale remain uncompleted in black and white. In this unsatisfactory state they will sadly remain for some time, because today is not destined to be just another one spent in her imagination.

The reason for this is due in part to the owner of the window-pane, the pony whose living room, Ocean Mist is now day-dreaming in. This pony you may be familiar with, as she has a prominent place in this Ponyville’s society: her name is Kimono. Known for her mature tastes and love of foreign culture, this personage has been the most forward in establishing contact with the Equestrian ponies and it is an event linked to this contact that will shortly disturb Ocean Mist’s favourite activity.  

Contact with the Equestrians had occurred many moons ago when they emerged from a magical portal in Unicornia, upending Kimono’s small world. In contrast to their sprawling civilisation, Kimono’s cosy society consists of a mere handful of ponies, living in innocence in Ponyville. Ever since she learned about them, Kimono has been fascinated with all things Equestrian, unlike her more parochial neighbours, and to satisfy her interest, she has placed many orders for items with the Equestrian firm Amarezon. One of these deliveries is, in fact, just about to arrive.

***

Ocean Mist’s sky-blue ears swivel forward as she sees the unfamiliar sight of a delivery wagon drawn by two strange-looking Equestrians in drab, beige mail-pony uniforms, complete with baseball caps. Over the grinding rumble of the wagon’s great shodden wheels, she can make out the distinctive ‘clop’ of alien hooves, another sound new to Ponyville whose denizens’ soft appendages had previously always been muffled.

“Oh!” she exclaims.

The small noise pierces the sound of Kimono’s drawing room, till then punctuated only by the rhythmic tick-tocking of a hoof-carved grandfather clock and the occasional rustle or scribble from Kimono at her desk, where she has been involved in “Important research!” all morning.

Ocean Mist immediately looks round to see if Kimono heard, and is relieved to see the lilac pony’s head still buried in a leather-bound volume.

The book, as with a few new additions to the room, including the clock, were recent acquisitions from Equestria. To the concern of most Ponyvillians, Kimono’s initial interest in the new arrivals had grown into a full blown obsession. Ocean Mist had always known that Kimono was a strange pony and, as she had recently been warned by Pinkie Pie: ‘Her “strangeness” has only got stranger!’ since they had appeared. But Ocean Mist, though she sometimes struggled with Kimono’s peculiarities, couldn’t help but continue visiting, drawn in by the other’s exotic tales of fantastic creatures from the distant past even other worlds.

‘If only I had listened to Pinkie!’ she now frets to herself, upset that her association had resulted in the ‘unknown’ seemingly trotting off the page and into her sheltered life.

Ocean Mist contemplates telling Kimono, but decides against. Whilst studying, Kimono was very sensitive to interruption and Ocean Mist, though a good little filly, had already been told off twice this morning. First she had been told off for giggling when she had read a funny tale earlier. Then she had scolded for ‘making a noisy smell’ (something that often happened when she had an ice cream breakfast).

“I am not to be disturbed again! No ifs and no buts. Or no bed-time story,” Kimono had warned.

Ocean Mist wasn’t about to risk disturbing Kimono again – no bed-time story would spoil her whole visit!

Turning back towards the window helplessly, Ocean Mist lowers her head and peers out at the strangers from under her pink mane, muzzle to the sill.

‘Maybe they’ll turn back?’

***

Behind her anonymous mailpony uniform, which Ocean Mist had spied from her window in Kimono’s house, Derpy Hooves was in a state of wonder. This was the last stop of her first interdimensional delivery-run, and she was loving every moment of it. At each stop in Unicornia, Butterfly Island and now Ponyville she couldn’t help but chatter continuously about each delightful feature of the charming little enclaves they passed through and comment on the natives’ innocence and fun-loving ways. She would be the first admit that due to these charming distractions, her professionalism might have lapsed once or twice which have made then a ‘teeny bit’ late, and that wouldn’t please her boss, but as she would likely never get this opportunity again, it was a price she would just have to pay.

Unlike Derpy, the pony pulling the wagon beside her, Crafty Crate, was not in a good mood. As the owner of the delivery business, he would normally be managing deliveries from the comfort of his Cloudsdale office rather than dragging the heavy mail-wagon through the challenging physics of another pony dimension. That was the main irritant, but the other was not far behind. He had sworn never again to employ the pony next to him, but the same bout of feather flu that caused him to take the wagon had also left him no other option than to resort to taking on Derpy for this job. Trying to keep the ditzy mare on track at the best of times was challenging, and in this strange dimension it was virtually impossible and his patience after a day’s journey, starting in the small hours, was wearing very thin. The only thing keeping his temper even was the knowledge that soon he would be heading back – if they hurried, he quietly hoped, he might even be in time to make the last call in the Sky Anchor, one of his favourite watering holes.

***

Ocean Mist’s stomach flutters as the mail-ponies stop, unhitch themselves and remove a large parcel from the wagon. As the two open Kimono’s garden gate and head towards the house, she notices that while one was a familiar pony shape, the other looks strange. Wondering what seems off about them, she remembers Kimono saying that there are two types of Equestrian pony: one was normal like herself, but the other was bigger, smellier, harrier and had a deep voice: ‘They will call ponies like us ‘Miss’ and we call their big ones ‘Mister’. One of these was clearly a ‘Mister’ since he was the largest and hairiest pony Ocean Mist had ever seen.

With a last look to Kimono for support, only to see the mare still rapt, Ocean Mist takes a deep breath and heads towards the door to see what the strangers want.

 “’llo?” she squeaks out, eyes darting between the two.

“Delivery, Miss,” the large one said, in his strange deep voice.

“Oh, yes.”

Not knowing what else to do, Ocean Mist holds out her hooves.

The stallion shakes his head, however, and with an effortful grunt, lowers a giant cardboard box, about the size of Ocean herself, to the floor.

“Th-thanks?” she says, gaining a little more confidence.

Ponyville custom dictated fulsome ‘thank yous’ and hugs when receiving presents.

“Thank you very very very much!” she clarified.

Deciding to start with the smaller grey pegasus pony first, she goes in for a hug, rearing onto her hind hooves.

With a friendly smile and a little ‘aw’, the pegasus returns it. Ocean Mist’s nostrils wrinkle at the unfamiliar musky smell from the Equestrian mail-pony.

The stallion, however, remains aloof when she offers him the familiar greeting, and only nods gruffly at her.

“That’s ok Miss,” he grunts.

Ocean Mist stops, flustered.

“Oh, ok.”

Despite the awkwardness, Ocean Mist was a little relieved, as this ‘Mister’ was living up to his reputation in terms of ‘smell’ – a result of Crafty Crate’s long day in the spring sun and efforts with the wagon.

The male looks about to move away, when suddenly the other pipes up:

“Lovely place this.”

This was firmer ground for Ocean Mist, who loved the aquatic aesthetic of Kimono’s residence, so unlike the pastel pinks of Ponyville.

“Oh, yes, it is lovely isn’t it! It was all designed by Kimono herself!”

The mare nods kindly.

“Do you want to see the gardens? I play here all the time, so I know them really well.“

Ocean Mist grins, liking the idea of showing the Equestrians round, since her friends rarely played at Kimono’s house and she the idea of telling them all about the stories she had made up about each of its quirky feature appealed to her creativity. Maybe aliens weren’t so bad?

“I’d love to!” Derpy begins, before turning to her companion.

“Do you think we have-“

But before Derpy could complete her sentence, Crafty had already shaken his head.  

“Oh well, maybe another time? Places to be, y’know.”

Ocean Mist nods understandingly.

“Right. Please sign here.”

Crafty Crate held out a funny square device in his huge hoof, one that Ocean Mist had never seen before.

“Uh? I don’t..?”

In a tone that caused Ocean Mist’s cheeks to pinken, the stallion explained:

“Just waggle your hoof on the screen.”

“’k.” she replied, feeling small.

The Equestrians turn to go.

“G’Day Miss.”

“Bye bye!” Derpy adds. “Oh! And what was your name?” the grey pegasus asked, causing a noticeable wince from her companion. “In case we visit again?”

Once they exchange details, with the stallion tapping his hoof impatiently, the mail-ponies leave.

With the door closed, Ocean Mist’s fluttering heart begins to calm and she returns to Kimono’s drawing room, finding the mare to have finally taken a break in her research.

“Who was that?”

“Two Equestrians with a special present for you!”

“And you answered the door to them?” Kimono asked, dubiously.

“Yes!”

“Oh,” she says, surprised. “Well, thank you very much Chibi Sakura.”

The filly nods proudly in response, pleased with the friendly use of her pet name, a sure sign that a bed-time story would be forthcoming later.  

the best bit about pony writing and crossover fics are insane paragraphs like this

Ocean Mist’s stomach flutters as the mail-ponies stop, unhitch themselves and remove a large parcel from the wagon. As the two open Kimono’s garden gate and head towards the house, she notices that while one was a familiar pony shape, the other looks strange. Wondering what seemed off about them, she remembers Kimono saying that there are two types of Equestrian pony: one was normal like herself, but the other was bigger, smellier, harrier and had a deep voice: ‘They will call ponies like us ‘Miss’ and we call their big ones ‘Mister’. One of these was clearly a ‘Mister’ – he was the largest and hairiest pony Ocean Mist had ever seen.

loving Derpy and Crafty's dynamic in my G3 cross-over fic I'm writing  

Behind her anonymous mailpony uniform, which Ocean Mist had spied from her window in Kimono’s house, Derpy Hooves was in a state of wonder. This was the last stop of her first interdimensional delivery-run, and she was loving every moment of it. At each stop in Unicornia, Butterfly Island and now Ponyville she couldn’t help but chatter continuously about each delightful feature of the charming little enclaves they passed through and comment on the natives’ innocence and fun-loving ways. She would be the first admit that due to these charming distractions, her professionalism might have lapsed once or twice which have made then a ‘teeny bit’ late, and that wouldn’t please her boss, but as she would likely never get this opportunity again, it was a price she would just have to pay.

Unlike Derpy, the pony pulling the wagon beside her, Crafty Crate, was not in a good mood. As the owner of the delivery business, he would normally be managing deliveries from the comfort of his Cloudsdale office rather than dragging the heavy mail-wagon through the challenging physics of another pony dimension. That was the main irritant, but the other was not far behind. He had sworn never again to employ the pony next to him, but the same bout of feather flu that caused him to take the wagon had also left him no other option than to resort to taking on Derpy for this job. No other pony was available for such a far flung job as this, and she was as famous for never turning down a job as she was for being the worst delivery mare in Equestria. Trying to keep the ditzy mare on track at the best of times was challenging, and in this strange dimension it was virtually impossible. Crafty’s patience after a day’s journey, starting in the small hours, was wearing very thin. The only thing keeping his temper even was the knowledge that soon he would be heading back – if they hurried, he quietly hoped, he might even be in time to make the last call in the Sky Anchor, one of his favourite watering holes.