Now, hold on a minute here. Incorporation. What happens to Maleficent in Jolie's admittedly bland version that betrays the Walt Disney Classic version? She is used and her wings are severed. In Kingdom Hearts she is... used. By Xehanort. He makes for a much better place-setter for the "Stefan" character than this guy screwing this guy over. There was already a parallel from the time Xehanort/Ansem/Whater Riku called her a puppet. She was Jolie's Maleficent before there was "Maleficent". Just... please don't do what Infinity did and remodel the character for KH3. I can't see this happening, but the Infinity thing was just... The only possible perk is if Jennifer Aniston does a Disney movie and gets an Infinity character modeled after her. That would be interesting; like a rehash of Celebrity Death Match, but tossing a tiny Buzz Lightyear around while riding Elephant Abu. EDIT: I glanced over the point. The parallel exists. It's within reason for Maleficent to help Sora out. Either out of political interest (You can't rule the world; she's gonna) or by sheer revenge on the individual who used her. Maleficent is not one to be used, understood Mistress of All Evil or misunderstood, vindicated magical warrior.
The wonders of justified text have recently been brought to my attention. However, it would appear as though the site's use of the coding is not working properly. I'm having some trouble getting it to work the way I've seen it done on other forums. I can't see a difference between this paragraph, which has been justified, and the next, which has not been justified. It's the same text, but with different coding. The wonders of justified text have recently been brought to my attention. However, it would appear as though the site's use of the coding is not working properly. I'm having some trouble getting it to work the way I've seen it done on other forums. I can't see a difference between this paragraph, which has been justified, and the next, which has not been justified. It's the same text, but with different coding. Here is an example of KHV and another site's uses of Justified text. They are the same text, but the first is from KHV, and the second is from KH-Flare. I copied the coding exactly as it's shown here: Edit: If anything, the second paragraph looks more justified. The second paragraph in the opener was not meant to be justified. What's going on here? Edit 2: Wait, was it fixed? Because the first paragraph changed drastically when I came back to it. Edit 3: Okay, it changes if I edit the text. Still, something is definitely not working properly if this is happening.
The wonders of justified text have recently been brought to my attention. However, it would appear as though the site's use of the coding is not working properly. I'm having some trouble getting it to work the way I've seen it done on other forums. I can't see a difference between this paragraph, which has been justified, and the next, which has not been justified. It's the same text, but with different coding.
The Casting Call has been called. Can fair Rarity nab the lead in an Off-Bridleway Show called "My Fair Filly"? No matter what the case, her friends will be right there to support her as they stay in Manehatten. Table of Contents Chapter 1: Last Minute CallChapter 2: Pen Station NewsChapter 3: The Cast AwayFootnotesAlso by SebaxGuest Book Chapter 1: Last Minute Call T he afternoon sun shone through the windows and made gemstones on displayed dresses sparkle. An amorphous baby blue blob of glittering magic held a note in mid-air. Rarity read its contents aloud in the showroom of her dress store to her five friends, with elation and pride etched in every syllable she read. "My dear Rarity, it is my great pleasure to offer you and your friends the opportunity to audition for a revival of an old Bridleway show. The show, however, will be Off-Bridledway. I spoke of you six to the director I'm currently working for, and she said explicitly to get you to Manehatten as soon as possible. No guarantees, but she's looking specifically for fresh talents. The show is called "My Fair Filly" and I've attached the dramatis personae with the letter. Some parts have already been cast, but we are in great need of crew as well. I hope to see you at the attached address on the posted date. With Love, Coco Pommel." Fluttershy smiled a meek grin. "That's wonderful, Rarity. Who are you taking with you?" She whispered, per her usual tone. "Why, you five of course." Rarity said off the cuff as she put the letter down to raise the character list. No one noticed that Fluttershy squeaked and started to shake, because Rainbow Dash took flight at the same time. "She must have caught my awesome performance as Commander Hurricane." She said haughtily. "Rainbow, you did that for one show only, and before we met Coco." Twilight Sparkle reasoned. "Well, maybe someone else saw it and told her about it." Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes and crossed her forearms. "I stick in a pony's memory like that." "W-we don't have to audition, d-do we?" Flutteshy stuttered. "Of course not, darling. But I'm leaving no pony behind!" She flipped the sheet around using her magic to show Fluttershy the dramatis personae. "I need moral support if I'm going to win the part of Eliza. She speaks to me, absolutely speaks to me!" She swooned while Fluttershy read. "It's irrelevant that she just so happens to be the lead role." "It looks like something you could do. Good luck, Rarity." Fluttershy calmed down a bit and resumed her weak grinning. "No, no, no, no, no, Fluttershy!" Rarity broke into a sputtering mania. Fluttershy meeped again when Rarity drew in so close their eyes were almost touching. Rarity stared her down in panic. "Saying "Good Luck" is frowned upon in the theatrical community. It's sure to end in disaster unless you say "Crack a hoof" in its place." She explained, taking a few steps back. "Crack a hoof?" Fluttershy said in a way that was well-wishing, but confused about the tradition. "I cracked a hoof one time, and I'd never wish that on anybody!" Pinkie Pie interjected. "Pinkie, darling, the hoof is more of an Irony thing." Rarity further explained. "Irony? If your hooves are iron-y, how would they crack?" Pinkie asked while Applejack shook her head low. "I dun got it, Rar'ty. Crack a hoof, sugar cube." She patted Rarity on the back and smiled. "Can't say I'd go fer anythin' on that there sheet either though." "Can I bring Spike along?" Twilight asked. "Why, of course! Naturally." Rarity said. "Erm, Why didn't he come along in the first place?" Twilight giggled. "He slept in. I was running late, so I didn't wake him. He stayed up all last night and is having a bit of a lazy bum day." "Late?! You mean that you were almost five minutes away from being fifteen minutes early?" Pinkie joked. "Yes." Twilight nodded astute, not even rustling a wing feather or batting an eye. Punctuality was no joke. "Oh." Pinkie sat down on her hindquarters. She accepted her joke had gone right over her friend's head with a sigh. Twilight stifled a giggle behind a hoof; she'd gotten the joke. Pinkie heard the giggling, and stood up giggling herself. "Hey, Rarity, these auditions are tomorrow. Do you know that?" Rainbow Dash asked, hovering and holding the letter in her hooves. "Not that I was interested in auditioning or anything!" She defended herself badly. "Yes, not to worry. There's a train leaving for Manehatten later this evening. I only just got the letter this morning, and the postman said it had gotten lost at the post office. I'm so sorry to ask this of you last minute, but do you think you could be packed by tonight?" "Tonight?!" Twilight's jaw dropped a good deal. She zoomed out as fast as her wings would take her, leaving the shop door flapping after her exit. "I do hope that was a yes..." Rarity said with apprehension. "Uhhhh, I'm with ya, Rarity." Rainbow Dash planted her hooves on the ground. The remaining four smiled and huddled together. "Me too, Rar'ty." Applejack assured. "An' if ye get a part, any part ate all, you can be darn sure you'll see th' whole Apple Family there ta cheer you on." "I can, if I can get someone to watch Angel while I'm away." Fluttershy nodded. "I think I can." "I wanna try the whole "Audition" thing, but don't worry, I won't go for the part you want. I just want to make whoever's watching us laugh." Pinkie Pie snerked. "Thank you so much, everypony." Rarity beamed. Her smile turned to panic in a flash."Oh! Now, please, please pack what you can, as soon as you can! I don't want to hold you up. The train leaves at precisely eight o'clock. Opal! Where are you, Opal?" Rarity dashed off upstairs. The others dashed off outside. ◊◊◊In the Orchards of Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack rushed to Big Macintosh just as he kicked a bushel of apples from a tree. It was mid-late Afternoon, and Applejack lost enough time getting home. "Big Mac, could you go an' tell Granny an' Apple Bloom that I'maheaddin' ta Manehatten to help Rar'ty get herself inta a big ole Off-Bridleway preducshin?" She said with haste, huffing after her long run. "Eeeyup." Big Macintosh plodded, nodded, and Applejack thanked him as she raced off to the house. At Fluttershy's home, there was an unhappy bunny. "Yes, Angel, I understand you'd like to see Bridleway, but Manehatten is no place for a small, little bunny to go." Fluttershy pleaded with her bunny, tired from a lengthy discussion. "I'm sure you understand...right?" Angel was having none of it. "Angel, this is where I put my foot down." Fluttershy said, putting the 'timid' in 'intimidation'. She put her foot down no more forcefully than she normally did to walk. Angel still was not moved. "Fine...you can come too..." Fluttershy hung her head, giving into the demanding bunny. Angel revived and ran off to get packed, followed by a broken pony. Outside, by the town square, Rainbow Dash lounged on a cloud. She'd packed a toothbrush, a camera, and that was all she figured she needed. The sun was setting, nearing 7:42 PM. In twelve minutes, she'd head for the train station...maybe. She yawned and stretched. Maybe she'd bring Tank too, if she could remember where he'd gone. Pinkie Pie had overdone it. The Cakes, Carrot and Cup, didn't know what to think as she lugged an overstuffed suitcase through their bakery door. Nothing wound up broken, but Pinkie was straining under the weight of things she didn't need. She looked like a tiny pink tortoise with a giant brown shell, struggling to walk. Carrot Cake hollered when he spotted Gummy the alligator sitting atop his counter when he hadn't been there a moment before. He jumped, shaking, into his wife's arms. Cup Cake just rolled her eyes. It looked to her like they were taking care of the twin Cakes and Gummy. Twilight Sparkle, at her library/home, waking up Spike was an impossible task. She'd tried everything, and it was already 7:50 PM. She was late for being early! She'd packed the necessities, and was ready to go, but Spike was just snoozing along in his bed. "Spike! I can't leave you behind." Twilight shouted. Nothing. Then, she had an idea. "Rarity wants you to be there." She sang-whispered down by the tiny dragon. It produced the exact result she was hoping for...for a moment. Spike jumped up and darted out the door. "Wait, Spike, no, we have to go to the train station! SPIIIIIIIKE!" Twilight broke off into a gait, weighted down by her suitcase. At the train station, Rarity breathed a sigh of relief when she saw each of her friends there at 7:55 PM. The sun had set, the train had pulled into the station, and Spike was helping her with her bags. After everyone had loaded up onto the train, its whistle blew to signal a ready departure. When the group had gone to their cabins and settled in, Rarity brushed Opal with a brush that she floated towards the cat. She hummed a few bars of "Loverly" while she brushed, before getting tired and retiring to bed. She was still humming as she shut her eyes and Opal rested on top of the bed-sheets in a ball. "Oh, wouldn't...it...be loverly..." She drifted off to sleep while the train rattled on into the night. Chapter 2: Pen Station News M anehatten's Pen Station put Ponyville's station to sheer shame. The train pulled to a stop in the midst of luxury and a capacious design. It's vast storage of space bustled with strings of ponies from every clop of life. There was little wiggle room while Pinkie Pie tested how fast she could manage through the crowd, but she managed to do her fair share of wiggling throughout. By the train, Rarity praised Spike's superb luggage-handling skills. "We're off the train now. You may put them down anywhere you like, Spikey." Spike subsisted so much on pet names bestowed by Rarity that he did not notice Applejack's approach. He just stood in place while Applejack bucked a trolley into place and loaded the luggage herself. "Looks like we're here, Rar'dee. All in one piece too," Applejack stated proudly. "Ha! I remember being that hopeful," a random voice piped from the bypassing hive of hooves. It spoke, and the speaker was gone on their way. "You mooks oughtta just go back home now, nobody'll wancha here." "Oooookaaaaaay?" Applejack peered around for the pony with no luck. "It's always a pleasure to hit the big city. And this time..." Rarity sighed. "Just think! I could be in a real, live Bridleway hit, and very, very soon!" "Uh, I thought it was an Off-Bridleway play?" Twilight raised a brow. "Tut, tut, Twilight. Eyes on the prize. Eyes on the prize, darling." Rarity put her hoove firm on the tiles. "Failure is not an option, everypony." Her friends cheered her on -- save for Pinkie, who had found a shawarma cart -- with enthusiasm. Spike leaned on the luggage trolley and tried to look cool. It failed in the most miserable fashion. "You got it in the bag, Rar- Woa!" Spike pushed the cart, on accident, and he landed on the ground. The cart itself bumped into the flank of a nearby fellow arrival. "Yes? Oh." A navvy blue pony turned around to see the cart. "Oh my goodness! I am so, soo sorry!" Fluttershy apologized wholeheartedly for something she was not responsible for. She struggled to pull back the loaded trolley, but needed help from Rainbow Dash to make it budge. "Are you, okay, sir?" "I take it you're not local." The stranger turned around and chuckled. "It's fine. I've spent enough time in this city to give up on personal space being a priority. Wow, actually, that sounded really depressing. I think I'm actually more worried about you. Breathe. In. Out." He demonstrated, speaking to Fluttershy. Fluttershy took the prompt and took deep breaths. Spike stepped in, twiddling his claws. "Well, I mean, that was my fault, so I should probably apologize. Not Fluttershy." "No, really, I'm okay." The stranger shook his head of long, black hair. "You know what? Sebaleon." He offered his hoof towards Spike. "I'm Sebaleon, and you all?" He seemed to figure the ponies patting Fluttershy on the back were together. Spike took the hoof for a mutual shake. Sebaleon grinned, and Spike lightened up. "Hey. I'm Spike." "I'm Rainbow Dash." Rainbow took to her wings with a brash tone in her voice. "This is bundle of nerves is Fluttershy, this is Applejack, Twilight, and Rarity." She indicated each while hovering over them. "Hey! Where's Pink- Oof!" Rainbow crashed down on Rarity when a muffled, robotic voice caught her off guard. "What was that?!" "That would be the PA system. Public Address. It's notoriously hard to understand, but I catch it. Just noting, but, the memo was: No flying in the station, please." He grinned, helping Rainbow off of Rarity and helping them both to their hooves. "I'm sure it was directed out generally," he said with humor, almost with sarcasm. Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie was enjoying a carrot-filled shawarma in a distant sector of the station. "Everyone has to have one of these!" Pinkie bubbled over with eagerness fueled by wares from a shiny metal cart. "Hang on, I'm going to go get my friends. Be right back, don't move!" Pinkie dashed off, leaving a happy Saddle Arabian immigrant behind. At the same time, Rarity was at a loss for words. She just gawked at Sebaleon and stammered. "You, y-you're thuh... thuh... thuhhhhhh..." Her jaw hung open in awe while her eyes sparkled. "Sebaleon!" a familiar voice cried out from the crowd. Coco Pommel pushed her way towards the group, gasping for air by the time she reached them. "Oh! And it's wonderful to see you too! Hi." She noticed the group from Ponyville and nodded. "I take it you got my letter. Good to see you all." "Na waida apple pickin' minute!" Applejack stepped in. "Good ta see you too, Coco, buh why's Rar'dee dun gone all loopy?" "Because he's Sebaleon!" Rarity regained her senses, but still bubbled over with thespian verve. "Oh, well, you must be coming straight from Canterlot, is that right? I've heard so much about you. He performs regularly for the Royal family and the highest nobility of Canterlot. With a Bridleway history beside that, he's one of the premier thespian ponies in all of Equestria." Sebaleon shook his head with humility. He stepped forward and bowed with the cordiality of a Gentlecolt. He only spoke when he returned to full stature. "You are right. I am found out, Coco. Alert the press: Royal Theatre performer Sebaleon returns to Bridleway."He laughed. "Please, please don't do that. I'd like a little breathing time before the fans and toadies make their appearances. No offense. I love having a following, and appreciate the recall, but try to keep it to a dull roar until I can find at least a dozen possible quick exits. When they hunt in packs, they're relentless. And they often give me more credit than I'm worth," he heaved the emphasis towards Rarity. "Note made, your majesty." Coco rolled her eyes and laughed along with Sebaleon. "Your chariot awaits, by the way. Miss Dracon is expecting you." "Dragon?!" Fluttershy shouted, shaking the foundation of the station. "She gets that a lot," Coco patted Fluttershy on the back. "She's not really a dragon." "Depends on who you speak to, really." Sebaleon winked coyly. "I love working with her, but not everyone catches on right away with her rather, shall we say? aggressive style of bringing out a character." "Thank goodness she isn't a dragon. Oh. No offense, Spike." "None taken." "I just tend to get riled up around adult dragons." "You're in luck. She's a Griffon," Coco nodded. Fluttershy meeped and curled up into the fetal position. "Yeahhhhh, she doesn't really have a good history with Griffons either." Rainbow Dash looked to the side, away from everyone, and rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "I'm positive no one could be as mean-spirited as she was." Fluttershy tried to reassure herself. "I just... I just don't know how to deal with bullies very well... At times." "Ha! Welcome to Manehatten!" It was that same voice that called out from earlier, and Applejack had had enough. It came, invisible, from within the crowd, but she was keeping her eyes on it from the first instance. "Okay, na, that's it!" She leaped into the crowd. "I can only take so dern much of a crab apple!" "Sooooo, Sebaleon, do tell, are you going to be in the show I think you're going to be in?" Rarity piped in. "Uhhhh, which show does she think I'm going to be in?" Sebaleon asked Coco. "My Fair Pony," Coco complied. "Oh! Well, that's classified informa-" "She'll be auditioning as well. I invited them," Coco compiled. "In that case, I am at liberty to say: Yes, and ponies have really got to tell me these things ahead of time before I look like a moron." "Too late," Coco punctuated. Sebaleon's ears tilted back, and his lips pursed in admittance he'd clopped right into that one. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! HEYYY! GUESS WHAT!?" Pinkie screeched, skidding to a halt by the group. "Found 'im!" Applejack hollered unseen from within the throes of ponies. Her shout was promptly followed by the loud crack of a country-fried smack before she trotted back. "Everypony has to try this thing called shawamamalamma!" Pinkie squeed. "I want to think you mean shawarma, but in this city, I really don't know." Sebaleon raised a brow. "If I know Pinkie, then that's exactly what she means." Twilight rolled her eyes and looked Pinkie dead in the eyes. "Pinkie. Where did you find this shawarma? I have never sampled that Saddle Arabian cuisine, and we must science this at once!" "Not now, please, I'm imploring. We need to get over to the theatre for the auditions!" Rarity intervened."Another time, and, perhaps, another place, but we're deathly close to the deadline." "Good point. Shawarma Science can wait. Whatever that is." Pinkie shrugged. "Yes, Rarity's right. Another time, another place." Twilight concurred. "Where are we heading? I'll still have to make sure we're set up with the right accommodations, so it would be good to know where the theatre is." "I can take you all there now," Coco smiled. "Did Eliza already show up?" Sebaleon asked. Something in Rarity snapped all at once. She went from volume 11 to 4 in nothing flat. She twitched and tried to maintain a calm smile. "By Eliza, I'm sure you mean a pony named, Eliza, yes? And not the character?" Sebaleon looked from side to side, cautiously. It was apparent he'd deduced her intentions. "The leads were pre-cast at a prior audition. This is the open audition for the play." He grimaced. "Didn't it mention on the letter I sent you?" Coco looked concerned and ashamed. "Not anywh-" Rarity pulled the letter out of her saddlebag with her teeth, but so that the back side flapped up into her face. She froze in place when she read what was on the back. It was hand-written, rather from the neat, typed font on the front. It had escaped her notice completely. "Wha?" "I feel I've made a terrible mistake. I'm sorry, Rarity, if you were under a different impression," Coco apologized. "Eliza Littlepony and Professor Hitchins have already been cast." Chapter 3: The Cast Away R arity opened the cage to let Opal saunter out into the hotel suite. She sighed once Opalescence has settled, and she crashed into one of the beds in a clump. “Nice room, Twi.” Rainbow took in the luxury of the room. “Sometimes, being a Princess really comes in handy.” Twilight smiled. “You never did tell us what hands even are...” Rainbow mentioned. “I am a fool!” Rarity sobbed with disparity. “I should have checked that letter over and over, front to back. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.” “There, there,” Fluttershy patted Rarity on the back. “You're still going to audition, aren't you? I'm sure they'd appreciate you being there.” “I don't really know. I mean, I didn't think I was just going to show up and get the part, but I feel somewhat embarrassed by the fact that it's known what I came for. Does it make me look like a Prima Donna? Was I just ever so slightly overexcited? Possibly. Should I have expected so much to even get the part at all? Well, I suppose that was a bit rash. But why!? I know that I have a particular talent for performance, so, really, all I wanted was a chance. I'm just... I'm just figuring out if I should go...” Rarity looked to her friends. “I know many of you were intent on going yourselves. Please, don't let my indecisiveness get in your way.” “Are you sure, Rarity?” Pinkie Pie asked timidly. She knew Coco was down in the lobby with Sebaleon, and they'd be leaving for the theater, but she had no intentions of leaving her friend in despair. “Yeah, 'cuz, y'know, if Pinkie goes, I'll have to go with her. For support. And no other reason. Whatsoever,” Rainbow added. “Positive, darlings!” Rarity wiped a few tears and put on her flashiest smile. “Okie dokie lokie...” Pinkie Pie agreed, uncertain. She left with Rainbow behind her. Rainbow Dash closed the suite door with a cover-up, 'I'm not excited about this, ignore my trembling' smile on her departure. “I'ma just gun sit right down here.” Applejack plopped down by Rarity. “Never hadin in-ter-rest in that show anyways.” “I'm here too, Rartity,” said Fluttershy. “And me,” said Twilight. “But I think you already have the answers to your own questions.” Twilight gave Rarity a reassuring smile. “You do?” Rarity sniffled. “I do? Come now, Twilight, I hardly think that I-” “Rarity, you really do. I can tell this isn't a thing about vanity, but just wanting to prove something to somepony else,” she huddled up with Fluttershy and Applejack around Rarity, “And maybe a little to yourself. Wanting to prove you can do something doesn't make you selfish.” “You're... you are right, Twilight, but what if I audition and they do already know what I told Coco and Sebaleon? Oh! It'll be a disaster! I'm not going!” Rarity broke free from the enclosure and buried her muzzle into a pillow. Her mascara was running, and her sobs were deafening, but the trio of friends stood resolute. “Rarity. Ask yourself: is that something Coco Pommel would do?” Fluttershy asked. “Tha's righ'. An' that Sebaleon feller didn't seem too prickly either.” “I suppose you all have a point, but... No!” Rarity wiped the tears away from her eyes and stood, hooves firm, on the mattress. Fluttershy, Applejack, and Twilight frowned. “I refuse to get the little things get this filly down.” “That's the spirit, Rarity!” Twilight's mood, as with the others, took a positive turn around. “Waita minute, does anyone hear that musi-” Rarity jumped into song. “While it's true I love my dresses, --- my heart has a strong bearing towards design --- and absolutely nothing messes with any upcoming lines.” She pranced towards the window and let it open for her to trot onto the terrace. “But while I toil away on a called-for costume, I find, time after time, it's just and only backstage where I tend to loom. Play. After play. After play!” She shot her attention towards her friends on each punctuation. “I can't think in a cage. Acting is all the rage! Get me to the stage.” “I thought I heard music,” said Applejack. “Where does tha' acome from anywa-” “I want to hear the applause, and I know it isn't a game, I'm not seeking fortune or fame, I just want to try because,” She hopped onto the bed, prim and dignified. “This time I want to be on the set! Walking across the boards. I know I have it in me to play to hoards, of ponies I've never met!” She jumped high. “I can't put myself in a cage! Acting's all the rage! Get me to the stage.” The determination in her eyes as she marched for the door was impeccable. Her friends followed her from the door --- Applejack locked up as they left --- and to the elevator. They descended together down stories as Rarity continued to sing with conviction. They bounced on their hooves and and jazz squared to the tune of the Poppy selection. “I do already know all the parts, with stark and vibrant clarity. I'll roll with any really any role and I'll regale them all! That's my goal! One little problem can't get in the way of this one and only Rarity.” The elevator dinged, opening up the door to the hotel lobby. “I just know that I've got to go, the unstoppable super filly. I won't sulk, sit down, and be silly. Inspiration's everywhere, there are so many shows around me that I know!” Her friends sang three separate lines in harmony. “He's there, the Pony of the Opera!” sang Fluttershy. “Oh what a beautiful mornin'!” sang Applejack. “Make them hear you!” sang Twilight Sparkle. Rarity charged towards the lobby entrance, and they passed through the revolving door just in time to see Coco Pommel, Sebaleon, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash wave happily from the other side of the street before they were about to get into a cab carriage. A fire had been lit under Rarity's hooves, and she enjoyed it. Her eyes sparkled as she finished her number. “I won't put myself in a cage. Acting, darlings, is all the rage! Get! Me! To! The stage!” “To the stage!” Six friends punctuated, as Sebaleon told the cab driver which stage. The cabbie dashed off, and they were on their way. ◊◊◊When she performed, she was it all. She had grace, skill, precision, beauty, and the tone of her voice caused chills in those who heard her. The director and the leading filly of “My Fair Pony” both listened with interest as the auditioner produced sounds like they'd never heard. She was dressed in an elegant gown, she stood firm and confident, and she had a gray coat and crossed eyes. “Muffins. All alone in the bake light. I can smile at them baking. They're my favorite sweet snack. Blueberry or Cinnamon, I like a whole lot. Let the muffins serve again.” The suggested cut-off for auditions was 16 bars. The two let her finish the whole song. Tears welled up in their eyes and streamed down their faces. She could not be turned away. She sang with the emphasis, verve, and expression of a master thespian. “Burnt out ends of smoky trays. The stale cold crumbs, by morning. A napkin tossed, another snack time over. Another is tray is baking!” She took a deep breath and brought the house down, figuratively. “I hear Ding! How I love to hear ring! Now alone with the muffins, they are really so fun. If you bake them, you'll understand what happiness is. Look a new tray, has... begun.” Dawning Dracon gave Derpy Hooves a standing ovation, followed soon by Histrionica. Dracon's wings extended to their full width in excitement, knocking Histrionica off her hooves. The fallen actress quickly regained her ground to continue the applause that lasted several minutes. Derpy seemed to enjoy it, but it was hard to tell where her focus was. “Dear, that was unspeakable. I have no words.” Dracon confessed emphatically. Evidently, neither did Derpy. She looked to the door, and trotted out, leaving the casting crew even more speechless than they had been. They looked to each other in shock and made notes while Derpy passed Rarity in the hall, just outside the door. “I know I sang a whole song about being self-determined, but I am no longer feeling quite the same way, it seems.” Rarity breathed heavily. “Did you hear that in there?! She was simply glorious, and I have no chance of anything if I go in now!” “Rarity!” Pinkie Pie placed her hooves square on her friend's shoulders. “You. Have. Got this. To prove that anypony can impress them, I'll go next.” “Pinkie! No!” Rarity tried to stop her, but it was too late. Pinkie Pie had entered the room. “Howdy, everypony!” Pinkie Pie squealed with delight. Dawning Dracon and Histrionica were far too distracted with their notes to notice Pinkie standing a short distance from them, and Pinkie was too excited to notice their not noticing. She presented herself with a showpony's appeal without any regard for the fact the judges were busy. “I will now sing.” She cleared her throat. “Lalalalala! Make. Them. Laugh! Make them laugh! Don't you know everypony wants to laugh? Ha! Ha!” She kicked her kicks and danced her dance. “My Granny said be a showpony, Pinkie. But be in a Comma...dee...?” She started to notice their not noticing. She slowed to a crawl and her dance turned into a flop and her tone went flat. “Hello?” She inquired, with no reply. Pinkie stifled a tear. The worst had happened, by her account. She'd failed to make somepony laugh. Failed utterly and completely. They didn't even crack a smile. They just had their eyes glued to their notes. It was like she didn't even exist. Defeated, Pinkie plodded towards the door, and trudged through the door. She didn't even look up towards her friends as she exited. She just walked down the hall, and out the exit. Her spirit had been broken. “Pinkie!” Twilight shouted, with no response. “I'm on it!” Applejack dashed after Pinkie Pie, followed closely by Rainbow Dash. Rarity's condition had not improved as a result of the passing events. It only made her more anxious, and worried. They hadn't laughed at the very Harmonial Spirit of Laughter herself! “Oh poor, poor Pinkie Pie! Eaten, chewed up, and spat out like so many other ponies in this cruel, cruel town. Curse you, Manehatten!” “Next!” Histrionica called out into the hallway. Rarity nearly said something crass. Twilight caught it before Rarity could make a fool of herself. A look of determination fell on Twilight's face when she knew what to do. Rarity fought as Twilight nudged her friend through the door and into the marked position for the audition. Twilight left the room, and left Rarity to pout. Rarity was seeing red. She saw Dawning Dracon's blue wings twitch and she spotted Histrionica's dark green mane. She connected these features with the griffon and pony who had destroyed her dear, dear friend. She knew what she would do. She would refuse to be in that production. She'd show them. She'd wow them, and leave them wanting. She knew she could, and she gave the endeavor her best shot. “Just you wait, Horsey Hitchins, just you wait!” Rarity spat, and her on-point anger mixed with tonal proficiency caught the listeners right away. “You'll be sorry, but your tears'll be too late. You'll be broke! And I'll have money! Will I help you?! Don't be funny! Just you wait, Horsey Hitchins! Just you wait!” “A unique choice for an opener...” Histrionica noted both out loud and on paper. She used her Unicorn magic to lift the quill, and a clover green aura surrounded it while it scratched against the fibers. “I... rather liked it though.” “You did?” Rarity asked with prompt glee. She'd forgotten her anger and her intention in an instant, because of the praise. “Dawn?” Histrionica looked to her griffon cohort. “It was impressive. I would like to see more...hmmm... technical singing, perhaps?” “One evening Celestia will say, 'liza, oh thing, I want all Equestria your praises to sing! Next week on the twentieth, if I may, I proclaim 'Liza Littlepony Day!'” Rarity lost no time to emulate the soft tinkling of a sweet music box. She sounded serene and her character was no less established than it had been in anger. “Who are you, dear?” asked Dawning Dracon. “I am the director. Dawning Dracon.” She introduced herself, taking the blue feather from behind her ear tuft to write her opinion down. “My name is Rarity, Madam!” Rarity squeaked. “Do you know who I am, Rarity?” Histrionica asked. “You do seem familia- Oh! Oh my! You're Histrion- I... I had no clue you had anything to do with this production! If I had only known. Are you doing backstage work this time around?” “Actually...” Histrionica droned, “I'm Eliza Littlepony. The part you seem to be auditioning for. Do I presume correctly?” Rarity went blank. “I uhhhh... erm...I just....well, you see that I wasn't really auditioning for Eliza! I wouldn't dream of it! Not when I did know that the role had already been so masterfully cast.” Dawning Dracon chuckled behind a clenched talon. Histrionica raised a brow. Her lime green eyes shot to and through Rarity. The latter was frozen in her place for fear Histrionica would destroy her then and there for sheer impertinence. Rarity shook like a leaf at the knees. All four of them. “I see. Well, it has not been masterfully understudied for this show. Not yet.” She scratched a note on her paper, prompting Dawning to sneak a look. Dawning retracted and nodded as the room hung in the balance of tense silence. “Until now.” “Not confirmed yet, since we need to see every audition before we decide on anything.” Dawning Dracon noted sympathetically. “But you're the first one we've seen seem up to such a task. Do you agree?” “I....” Rarity was stupefied. “I thought so.” Histrionica cracked a grin and opened the exit with her magic. “Stay around, and we'll be sure to contact you. You filled out the audition sheet, didn't you?” “I never gave it to you!” Rarity realized, blushing. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty.” Histrionica reminded her. “Ah, right. Very true.” Rarity's strong blush persisted. She offered the sheet Coco Pommel had given her, and placed it down on the desk. Dawning Dracon and Histrionica shared a glance and smile. “Glad to finally get that sense of security.” Histrionica noted happily. “See you very soon, Rarity.” She winked. Rarity raced out of the room, leaving a dazed pony and griffon behind. Her screams of delight echoed down the hall, and received the attention of three waiting ponies. “Did you?” “I did!” “Next!” said Histrionica, before looking to Rarity and nodding her head with a gentle grin. “See?! I did it! I don't quite know what I did, but I did it somehow!” “How did you do that?” Fluttershy asked. “I am Trixie! The Great and Talented!” passed through the door to the room Rarity had exited, slightly muffled. “I'm not sure,” Rarity replied, coming down to Equestria once again. “What are you going to do now?” asked Twilight. Rarity regained her previous state of anxiety. “I... I don't know.” She went wide-eyed. She knew something big had happened, but she wasn't quite sure if that big thing also happened to be a good thing. She gulped. Footnotes Picture of Rarity in Header by RegolithX of Deviantart "My Little Pony", owned by Hasbro, and previously shown on The Hub for seasons 1-4; to be shown on the Discovery Family Channel for Season 5 The Show was developed for television by Lauren Faust. Some of the Original Characters in this story are based off of people I have known in life, but they are not aimed to be perfectly accurate portrayals; only mere caricatures of characteristic traits. Edited in Hemingway Written in Size 4 Verdana for the hard-of-sight and to assist in not losing your place while reading. Criticism and Comments are more than welcome, they are encouraged. Also by Sebax "Based Forward"- Set 14 years before the events of Kingdom Hearts I, and 4 years before Birth By Sleep, a musically-inclined boy finds himself under the tutelage of Yen Sid after the destruction of his Homeworld of Theate. Studying to be a mage, Base finds himself in over his head in matters he barely understands. "Asparagus, the Theatre Cat"- Based on a character from the Poems of T. S. Eliot and from the Musical Production of "Cats", this story details the life of a most histrionic cat as he walks his life across the boards. "Burns"- Set 28 years before the events of Red/Blue, Caesar Cyprus, a young aide to Professor Oak, is sent to Cinnabar Island. The research he does there will lead him down a path to an even bigger adventure for him. Guest Book Not a KHV member? Sign the Guest Book, please! I write for the love of it, but I do need, from time to time, some sort of encouragement, or else I just lose interest in posting. Sign Here!
T he afternoon sun shone through the windows and made gemstones on displayed dresses sparkle. An amorphous baby blue blob of glittering magic held a note in mid-air. Rarity read its contents aloud in the showroom of her dress store to her five friends, with elation and pride etched in every syllable she read. "My dear Rarity, it is my great pleasure to offer you and your friends the opportunity to audition for a revival of an old Bridleway show. The show, however, will be Off-Bridledway. I spoke of you six to the director I'm currently working for, and she said explicitly to get you to Manehatten as soon as possible. No guarantees, but she's looking specifically for fresh talents. The show is called "My Fair Filly" and I've attached the dramatis personae with the letter. Some parts have already been cast, but we are in great need of crew as well. I hope to see you at the attached address on the posted date. With Love, Coco Pommel." Fluttershy smiled a meek grin. "That's wonderful, Rarity. Who are you taking with you?" She whispered, per her usual tone. "Why, you five of course." Rarity said off the cuff as she put the letter down to raise the character list. No one noticed that Fluttershy squeaked and started to shake, because Rainbow Dash took flight at the same time. "She must have caught my awesome performance as Commander Hurricane." She said haughtily. "Rainbow, you did that for one show only, and before we met Coco." Twilight Sparkle reasoned. "Well, maybe someone else saw it and told her about it." Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes and crossed her forearms. "I stick in a pony's memory like that." "W-we don't have to audition, d-do we?" Flutteshy stuttered. "Of course not, darling. But I'm leaving no pony behind!" She flipped the sheet around using her magic to show Fluttershy the dramatis personae. "I need moral support if I'm going to win the part of Eliza. She speaks to me, absolutely speaks to me!" She swooned while Fluttershy read. "It's irrelevant that she just so happens to be the lead role." "It looks like something you could do. Good luck, Rarity." Fluttershy calmed down a bit and resumed her weak grinning. "No, no, no, no, no, Fluttershy!" Rarity broke into a sputtering mania. Fluttershy meeped again when Rarity drew in so close their eyes were almost touching. Rarity stared her down in panic. "Saying "Good Luck" is frowned upon in the theatrical community. It's sure to end in disaster unless you say "Crack a hoof" in its place." She explained, taking a few steps back. "Crack a hoof?" Fluttershy said in a way that was well-wishing, but confused about the tradition. "I cracked a hoof one time, and I'd never wish that on anybody!" Pinkie Pie interjected. "Pinkie, darling, the hoof is more of an Irony thing." Rarity further explained. "Irony? If your hooves are iron-y, how would they crack?" Pinkie asked while Applejack shook her head low. "I dun got it, Rar'ty. Crack a hoof, sugar cube." She patted Rarity on the back and smiled. "Can't say I'd go fer anythin' on that there sheet either though." "Can I bring Spike along?" Twilight asked. "Why, of course! Naturally." Rarity said. "Erm, Why didn't he come along in the first place?" Twilight giggled. "He slept in. I was running late, so I didn't wake him. He stayed up all last night and is having a bit of a lazy bum day." "Late?! You mean that you were almost five minutes away from being fifteen minutes early?" Pinkie joked. "Yes." Twilight nodded astute, not even rustling a wing feather or batting an eye. Punctuality was no joke. "Oh." Pinkie sat down on her hindquarters. She accepted her joke had gone right over her friend's head with a sigh. Twilight stifled a giggle behind a hoof; she'd gotten the joke. Pinkie heard the giggling, and stood up giggling herself. "Hey, Rarity, these auditions are tomorrow. Do you know that?" Rainbow Dash asked, hovering and holding the letter in her hooves. "Not that I was interested in auditioning or anything!" She defended herself badly. "Yes, not to worry. There's a train leaving for Manehatten later this evening. I only just got the letter this morning, and the postman said it had gotten lost at the post office. I'm so sorry to ask this of you last minute, but do you think you could be packed by tonight?" "Tonight?!" Twilight's jaw dropped a good deal. She zoomed out as fast as her wings would take her, leaving the shop door flapping after her exit. "I do hope that was a yes..." Rarity said with apprehension. "Uhhhh, I'm with ya, Rarity." Rainbow Dash planted her hooves on the ground. The remaining four smiled and huddled together. "Me too, Rar'ty." Applejack assured. "An' if ye get a part, any part ate all, you can be darn sure you'll see th' whole Apple Family there ta cheer you on." "I can, if I can get someone to watch Angel while I'm away." Fluttershy nodded. "I think I can." "I wanna try the whole "Audition" thing, but don't worry, I won't go for the part you want. I just want to make whoever's watching us laugh." Pinkie Pie snerked. "Thank you so much, everypony." Rarity beamed. Her smile turned to panic in a flash."Oh! Now, please, please pack what you can, as soon as you can! I don't want to hold you up. The train leaves at precisely eight o'clock. Opal! Where are you, Opal?" Rarity dashed off upstairs. The others dashed off outside.
◊◊◊
In the Orchards of Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack rushed to Big Macintosh just as he kicked a bushel of apples from a tree. It was mid-late Afternoon, and Applejack lost enough time getting home. "Big Mac, could you go an' tell Granny an' Apple Bloom that I'maheaddin' ta Manehatten to help Rar'ty get herself inta a big ole Off-Bridleway preducshin?" She said with haste, huffing after her long run. "Eeeyup." Big Macintosh plodded, nodded, and Applejack thanked him as she raced off to the house. At Fluttershy's home, there was an unhappy bunny. "Yes, Angel, I understand you'd like to see Bridleway, but Manehatten is no place for a small, little bunny to go." Fluttershy pleaded with her bunny, tired from a lengthy discussion. "I'm sure you understand...right?" Angel was having none of it. "Angel, this is where I put my foot down." Fluttershy said, putting the 'timid' in 'intimidation'. She put her foot down no more forcefully than she normally did to walk. Angel still was not moved. "Fine...you can come too..." Fluttershy hung her head, giving into the demanding bunny. Angel revived and ran off to get packed, followed by a broken pony. Outside, by the town square, Rainbow Dash lounged on a cloud. She'd packed a toothbrush, a camera, and that was all she figured she needed. The sun was setting, nearing 7:42 PM. In twelve minutes, she'd head for the train station...maybe. She yawned and stretched. Maybe she'd bring Tank too, if she could remember where he'd gone. Pinkie Pie had overdone it. The Cakes, Carrot and Cup, didn't know what to think as she lugged an overstuffed suitcase through their bakery door. Nothing wound up broken, but Pinkie was straining under the weight of things she didn't need. She looked like a tiny pink tortoise with a giant brown shell, struggling to walk. Carrot Cake hollered when he spotted Gummy the alligator sitting atop his counter when he hadn't been there a moment before. He jumped, shaking, into his wife's arms. Cup Cake just rolled her eyes. It looked to her like they were taking care of the twin Cakes and Gummy. Twilight Sparkle, at her library/home, waking up Spike was an impossible task. She'd tried everything, and it was already 7:50 PM. She was late for being early! She'd packed the necessities, and was ready to go, but Spike was just snoozing along in his bed. "Spike! I can't leave you behind." Twilight shouted. Nothing. Then, she had an idea. "Rarity wants you to be there." She sang-whispered down by the tiny dragon. It produced the exact result she was hoping for...for a moment. Spike jumped up and darted out the door. "Wait, Spike, no, we have to go to the train station! SPIIIIIIIKE!" Twilight broke off into a gait, weighted down by her suitcase. At the train station, Rarity breathed a sigh of relief when she saw each of her friends there at 7:55 PM. The sun had set, the train had pulled into the station, and Spike was helping her with her bags. After everyone had loaded up onto the train, its whistle blew to signal a ready departure. When the group had gone to their cabins and settled in, Rarity brushed Opal with a brush that she floated towards the cat. She hummed a few bars of "Loverly" while she brushed, before getting tired and retiring to bed. She was still humming as she shut her eyes and Opal rested on top of the bed-sheets in a ball. "Oh, wouldn't...it...be loverly..." She drifted off to sleep while the train rattled on into the night.
M anehatten's Pen Station put Ponyville's station to sheer shame. The train pulled to a stop in the midst of luxury and a capacious design. It's vast storage of space bustled with strings of ponies from every clop of life. There was little wiggle room while Pinkie Pie tested how fast she could manage through the crowd, but she managed to do her fair share of wiggling throughout. By the train, Rarity praised Spike's superb luggage-handling skills. "We're off the train now. You may put them down anywhere you like, Spikey." Spike subsisted so much on pet names bestowed by Rarity that he did not notice Applejack's approach. He just stood in place while Applejack bucked a trolley into place and loaded the luggage herself. "Looks like we're here, Rar'dee. All in one piece too," Applejack stated proudly. "Ha! I remember being that hopeful," a random voice piped from the bypassing hive of hooves. It spoke, and the speaker was gone on their way. "You mooks oughtta just go back home now, nobody'll wancha here." "Oooookaaaaaay?" Applejack peered around for the pony with no luck. "It's always a pleasure to hit the big city. And this time..." Rarity sighed. "Just think! I could be in a real, live Bridleway hit, and very, very soon!" "Uh, I thought it was an Off-Bridleway play?" Twilight raised a brow. "Tut, tut, Twilight. Eyes on the prize. Eyes on the prize, darling." Rarity put her hoove firm on the tiles. "Failure is not an option, everypony." Her friends cheered her on -- save for Pinkie, who had found a shawarma cart -- with enthusiasm. Spike leaned on the luggage trolley and tried to look cool. It failed in the most miserable fashion. "You got it in the bag, Rar- Woa!" Spike pushed the cart, on accident, and he landed on the ground. The cart itself bumped into the flank of a nearby fellow arrival. "Yes? Oh." A navvy blue pony turned around to see the cart. "Oh my goodness! I am so, soo sorry!" Fluttershy apologized wholeheartedly for something she was not responsible for. She struggled to pull back the loaded trolley, but needed help from Rainbow Dash to make it budge. "Are you, okay, sir?" "I take it you're not local." The stranger turned around and chuckled. "It's fine. I've spent enough time in this city to give up on personal space being a priority. Wow, actually, that sounded really depressing. I think I'm actually more worried about you. Breathe. In. Out." He demonstrated, speaking to Fluttershy. Fluttershy took the prompt and took deep breaths. Spike stepped in, twiddling his claws. "Well, I mean, that was my fault, so I should probably apologize. Not Fluttershy." "No, really, I'm okay." The stranger shook his head of long, black hair. "You know what? Sebaleon." He offered his hoof towards Spike. "I'm Sebaleon, and you all?" He seemed to figure the ponies patting Fluttershy on the back were together. Spike took the hoof for a mutual shake. Sebaleon grinned, and Spike lightened up. "Hey. I'm Spike." "I'm Rainbow Dash." Rainbow took to her wings with a brash tone in her voice. "This is bundle of nerves is Fluttershy, this is Applejack, Twilight, and Rarity." She indicated each while hovering over them. "Hey! Where's Pink- Oof!" Rainbow crashed down on Rarity when a muffled, robotic voice caught her off guard. "What was that?!" "That would be the PA system. Public Address. It's notoriously hard to understand, but I catch it. Just noting, but, the memo was: No flying in the station, please." He grinned, helping Rainbow off of Rarity and helping them both to their hooves. "I'm sure it was directed out generally," he said with humor, almost with sarcasm. Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie was enjoying a carrot-filled shawarma in a distant sector of the station. "Everyone has to have one of these!" Pinkie bubbled over with eagerness fueled by wares from a shiny metal cart. "Hang on, I'm going to go get my friends. Be right back, don't move!" Pinkie dashed off, leaving a happy Saddle Arabian immigrant behind. At the same time, Rarity was at a loss for words. She just gawked at Sebaleon and stammered. "You, y-you're thuh... thuh... thuhhhhhh..." Her jaw hung open in awe while her eyes sparkled. "Sebaleon!" a familiar voice cried out from the crowd. Coco Pommel pushed her way towards the group, gasping for air by the time she reached them. "Oh! And it's wonderful to see you too! Hi." She noticed the group from Ponyville and nodded. "I take it you got my letter. Good to see you all." "Na waida apple pickin' minute!" Applejack stepped in. "Good ta see you too, Coco, buh why's Rar'dee dun gone all loopy?" "Because he's Sebaleon!" Rarity regained her senses, but still bubbled over with thespian verve. "Oh, well, you must be coming straight from Canterlot, is that right? I've heard so much about you. He performs regularly for the Royal family and the highest nobility of Canterlot. With a Bridleway history beside that, he's one of the premier thespian ponies in all of Equestria." Sebaleon shook his head with humility. He stepped forward and bowed with the cordiality of a Gentlecolt. He only spoke when he returned to full stature. "You are right. I am found out, Coco. Alert the press: Royal Theatre performer Sebaleon returns to Bridleway."He laughed. "Please, please don't do that. I'd like a little breathing time before the fans and toadies make their appearances. No offense. I love having a following, and appreciate the recall, but try to keep it to a dull roar until I can find at least a dozen possible quick exits. When they hunt in packs, they're relentless. And they often give me more credit than I'm worth," he heaved the emphasis towards Rarity. "Note made, your majesty." Coco rolled her eyes and laughed along with Sebaleon. "Your chariot awaits, by the way. Miss Dracon is expecting you." "Dragon?!" Fluttershy shouted, shaking the foundation of the station. "She gets that a lot," Coco patted Fluttershy on the back. "She's not really a dragon." "Depends on who you speak to, really." Sebaleon winked coyly. "I love working with her, but not everyone catches on right away with her rather, shall we say? aggressive style of bringing out a character." "Thank goodness she isn't a dragon. Oh. No offense, Spike." "None taken." "I just tend to get riled up around adult dragons." "You're in luck. She's a Griffon," Coco nodded. Fluttershy meeped and curled up into the fetal position. "Yeahhhhh, she doesn't really have a good history with Griffons either." Rainbow Dash looked to the side, away from everyone, and rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "I'm positive no one could be as mean-spirited as she was." Fluttershy tried to reassure herself. "I just... I just don't know how to deal with bullies very well... At times." "Ha! Welcome to Manehatten!" It was that same voice that called out from earlier, and Applejack had had enough. It came, invisible, from within the crowd, but she was keeping her eyes on it from the first instance. "Okay, na, that's it!" She leaped into the crowd. "I can only take so dern much of a crab apple!" "Sooooo, Sebaleon, do tell, are you going to be in the show I think you're going to be in?" Rarity piped in. "Uhhhh, which show does she think I'm going to be in?" Sebaleon asked Coco. "My Fair Pony," Coco complied. "Oh! Well, that's classified informa-" "She'll be auditioning as well. I invited them," Coco compiled. "In that case, I am at liberty to say: Yes, and ponies have really got to tell me these things ahead of time before I look like a moron." "Too late," Coco punctuated. Sebaleon's ears tilted back, and his lips pursed in admittance he'd clopped right into that one. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! HEYYY! GUESS WHAT!?" Pinkie screeched, skidding to a halt by the group. "Found 'im!" Applejack hollered unseen from within the throes of ponies. Her shout was promptly followed by the loud crack of a country-fried smack before she trotted back. "Everypony has to try this thing called shawamamalamma!" Pinkie squeed. "I want to think you mean shawarma, but in this city, I really don't know." Sebaleon raised a brow. "If I know Pinkie, then that's exactly what she means." Twilight rolled her eyes and looked Pinkie dead in the eyes. "Pinkie. Where did you find this shawarma? I have never sampled that Saddle Arabian cuisine, and we must science this at once!" "Not now, please, I'm imploring. We need to get over to the theatre for the auditions!" Rarity intervened."Another time, and, perhaps, another place, but we're deathly close to the deadline." "Good point. Shawarma Science can wait. Whatever that is." Pinkie shrugged. "Yes, Rarity's right. Another time, another place." Twilight concurred. "Where are we heading? I'll still have to make sure we're set up with the right accommodations, so it would be good to know where the theatre is." "I can take you all there now," Coco smiled. "Did Eliza already show up?" Sebaleon asked. Something in Rarity snapped all at once. She went from volume 11 to 4 in nothing flat. She twitched and tried to maintain a calm smile. "By Eliza, I'm sure you mean a pony named, Eliza, yes? And not the character?" Sebaleon looked from side to side, cautiously. It was apparent he'd deduced her intentions. "The leads were pre-cast at a prior audition. This is the open audition for the play." He grimaced. "Didn't it mention on the letter I sent you?" Coco looked concerned and ashamed. "Not anywh-" Rarity pulled the letter out of her saddlebag with her teeth, but so that the back side flapped up into her face. She froze in place when she read what was on the back. It was hand-written, rather from the neat, typed font on the front. It had escaped her notice completely. "Wha?" "I feel I've made a terrible mistake. I'm sorry, Rarity, if you were under a different impression," Coco apologized. "Eliza Littlepony and Professor Hitchins have already been cast."
R arity opened the cage to let Opal saunter out into the hotel suite. She sighed once Opalescence has settled, and she crashed into one of the beds in a clump. “Nice room, Twi.” Rainbow took in the luxury of the room. “Sometimes, being a Princess really comes in handy.” Twilight smiled. “You never did tell us what hands even are...” Rainbow mentioned. “I am a fool!” Rarity sobbed with disparity. “I should have checked that letter over and over, front to back. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.” “There, there,” Fluttershy patted Rarity on the back. “You're still going to audition, aren't you? I'm sure they'd appreciate you being there.” “I don't really know. I mean, I didn't think I was just going to show up and get the part, but I feel somewhat embarrassed by the fact that it's known what I came for. Does it make me look like a Prima Donna? Was I just ever so slightly overexcited? Possibly. Should I have expected so much to even get the part at all? Well, I suppose that was a bit rash. But why!? I know that I have a particular talent for performance, so, really, all I wanted was a chance. I'm just... I'm just figuring out if I should go...” Rarity looked to her friends. “I know many of you were intent on going yourselves. Please, don't let my indecisiveness get in your way.” “Are you sure, Rarity?” Pinkie Pie asked timidly. She knew Coco was down in the lobby with Sebaleon, and they'd be leaving for the theater, but she had no intentions of leaving her friend in despair. “Yeah, 'cuz, y'know, if Pinkie goes, I'll have to go with her. For support. And no other reason. Whatsoever,” Rainbow added. “Positive, darlings!” Rarity wiped a few tears and put on her flashiest smile. “Okie dokie lokie...” Pinkie Pie agreed, uncertain. She left with Rainbow behind her. Rainbow Dash closed the suite door with a cover-up, 'I'm not excited about this, ignore my trembling' smile on her departure. “I'ma just gun sit right down here.” Applejack plopped down by Rarity. “Never hadin in-ter-rest in that show anyways.” “I'm here too, Rartity,” said Fluttershy. “And me,” said Twilight. “But I think you already have the answers to your own questions.” Twilight gave Rarity a reassuring smile. “You do?” Rarity sniffled. “I do? Come now, Twilight, I hardly think that I-” “Rarity, you really do. I can tell this isn't a thing about vanity, but just wanting to prove something to somepony else,” she huddled up with Fluttershy and Applejack around Rarity, “And maybe a little to yourself. Wanting to prove you can do something doesn't make you selfish.” “You're... you are right, Twilight, but what if I audition and they do already know what I told Coco and Sebaleon? Oh! It'll be a disaster! I'm not going!” Rarity broke free from the enclosure and buried her muzzle into a pillow. Her mascara was running, and her sobs were deafening, but the trio of friends stood resolute. “Rarity. Ask yourself: is that something Coco Pommel would do?” Fluttershy asked. “Tha's righ'. An' that Sebaleon feller didn't seem too prickly either.” “I suppose you all have a point, but... No!” Rarity wiped the tears away from her eyes and stood, hooves firm, on the mattress. Fluttershy, Applejack, and Twilight frowned. “I refuse to get the little things get this filly down.” “That's the spirit, Rarity!” Twilight's mood, as with the others, took a positive turn around. “Waita minute, does anyone hear that musi-” Rarity jumped into song. “While it's true I love my dresses, --- my heart has a strong bearing towards design --- and absolutely nothing messes with any upcoming lines.” She pranced towards the window and let it open for her to trot onto the terrace. “But while I toil away on a called-for costume, I find, time after time, it's just and only backstage where I tend to loom. Play. After play. After play!” She shot her attention towards her friends on each punctuation. “I can't think in a cage. Acting is all the rage! Get me to the stage.” “I thought I heard music,” said Applejack. “Where does tha' acome from anywa-” “I want to hear the applause, and I know it isn't a game, I'm not seeking fortune or fame, I just want to try because,” She hopped onto the bed, prim and dignified. “This time I want to be on the set! Walking across the boards. I know I have it in me to play to hoards, of ponies I've never met!” She jumped high. “I can't put myself in a cage! Acting's all the rage! Get me to the stage.” The determination in her eyes as she marched for the door was impeccable. Her friends followed her from the door --- Applejack locked up as they left --- and to the elevator. They descended together down stories as Rarity continued to sing with conviction. They bounced on their hooves and and jazz squared to the tune of the Poppy selection. “I do already know all the parts, with stark and vibrant clarity. I'll roll with any really any role and I'll regale them all! That's my goal! One little problem can't get in the way of this one and only Rarity.” The elevator dinged, opening up the door to the hotel lobby. “I just know that I've got to go, the unstoppable super filly. I won't sulk, sit down, and be silly. Inspiration's everywhere, there are so many shows around me that I know!” Her friends sang three separate lines in harmony. “He's there, the Pony of the Opera!” sang Fluttershy. “Oh what a beautiful mornin'!” sang Applejack. “Make them hear you!” sang Twilight Sparkle. Rarity charged towards the lobby entrance, and they passed through the revolving door just in time to see Coco Pommel, Sebaleon, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash wave happily from the other side of the street before they were about to get into a cab carriage. A fire had been lit under Rarity's hooves, and she enjoyed it. Her eyes sparkled as she finished her number. “I won't put myself in a cage. Acting, darlings, is all the rage! Get! Me! To! The stage!” “To the stage!” Six friends punctuated, as Sebaleon told the cab driver which stage. The cabbie dashed off, and they were on their way.
When she performed, she was it all. She had grace, skill, precision, beauty, and the tone of her voice caused chills in those who heard her. The director and the leading filly of “My Fair Pony” both listened with interest as the auditioner produced sounds like they'd never heard. She was dressed in an elegant gown, she stood firm and confident, and she had a gray coat and crossed eyes. “Muffins. All alone in the bake light. I can smile at them baking. They're my favorite sweet snack. Blueberry or Cinnamon, I like a whole lot. Let the muffins serve again.” The suggested cut-off for auditions was 16 bars. The two let her finish the whole song. Tears welled up in their eyes and streamed down their faces. She could not be turned away. She sang with the emphasis, verve, and expression of a master thespian. “Burnt out ends of smoky trays. The stale cold crumbs, by morning. A napkin tossed, another snack time over. Another is tray is baking!” She took a deep breath and brought the house down, figuratively. “I hear Ding! How I love to hear ring! Now alone with the muffins, they are really so fun. If you bake them, you'll understand what happiness is. Look a new tray, has... begun.” Dawning Dracon gave Derpy Hooves a standing ovation, followed soon by Histrionica. Dracon's wings extended to their full width in excitement, knocking Histrionica off her hooves. The fallen actress quickly regained her ground to continue the applause that lasted several minutes. Derpy seemed to enjoy it, but it was hard to tell where her focus was. “Dear, that was unspeakable. I have no words.” Dracon confessed emphatically. Evidently, neither did Derpy. She looked to the door, and trotted out, leaving the casting crew even more speechless than they had been. They looked to each other in shock and made notes while Derpy passed Rarity in the hall, just outside the door. “I know I sang a whole song about being self-determined, but I am no longer feeling quite the same way, it seems.” Rarity breathed heavily. “Did you hear that in there?! She was simply glorious, and I have no chance of anything if I go in now!” “Rarity!” Pinkie Pie placed her hooves square on her friend's shoulders. “You. Have. Got this. To prove that anypony can impress them, I'll go next.” “Pinkie! No!” Rarity tried to stop her, but it was too late. Pinkie Pie had entered the room. “Howdy, everypony!” Pinkie Pie squealed with delight. Dawning Dracon and Histrionica were far too distracted with their notes to notice Pinkie standing a short distance from them, and Pinkie was too excited to notice their not noticing. She presented herself with a showpony's appeal without any regard for the fact the judges were busy. “I will now sing.” She cleared her throat. “Lalalalala! Make. Them. Laugh! Make them laugh! Don't you know everypony wants to laugh? Ha! Ha!” She kicked her kicks and danced her dance. “My Granny said be a showpony, Pinkie. But be in a Comma...dee...?” She started to notice their not noticing. She slowed to a crawl and her dance turned into a flop and her tone went flat. “Hello?” She inquired, with no reply. Pinkie stifled a tear. The worst had happened, by her account. She'd failed to make somepony laugh. Failed utterly and completely. They didn't even crack a smile. They just had their eyes glued to their notes. It was like she didn't even exist. Defeated, Pinkie plodded towards the door, and trudged through the door. She didn't even look up towards her friends as she exited. She just walked down the hall, and out the exit. Her spirit had been broken. “Pinkie!” Twilight shouted, with no response. “I'm on it!” Applejack dashed after Pinkie Pie, followed closely by Rainbow Dash. Rarity's condition had not improved as a result of the passing events. It only made her more anxious, and worried. They hadn't laughed at the very Harmonial Spirit of Laughter herself! “Oh poor, poor Pinkie Pie! Eaten, chewed up, and spat out like so many other ponies in this cruel, cruel town. Curse you, Manehatten!” “Next!” Histrionica called out into the hallway. Rarity nearly said something crass. Twilight caught it before Rarity could make a fool of herself. A look of determination fell on Twilight's face when she knew what to do. Rarity fought as Twilight nudged her friend through the door and into the marked position for the audition. Twilight left the room, and left Rarity to pout. Rarity was seeing red. She saw Dawning Dracon's blue wings twitch and she spotted Histrionica's dark green mane. She connected these features with the griffon and pony who had destroyed her dear, dear friend. She knew what she would do. She would refuse to be in that production. She'd show them. She'd wow them, and leave them wanting. She knew she could, and she gave the endeavor her best shot. “Just you wait, Horsey Hitchins, just you wait!” Rarity spat, and her on-point anger mixed with tonal proficiency caught the listeners right away. “You'll be sorry, but your tears'll be too late. You'll be broke! And I'll have money! Will I help you?! Don't be funny! Just you wait, Horsey Hitchins! Just you wait!” “A unique choice for an opener...” Histrionica noted both out loud and on paper. She used her Unicorn magic to lift the quill, and a clover green aura surrounded it while it scratched against the fibers. “I... rather liked it though.” “You did?” Rarity asked with prompt glee. She'd forgotten her anger and her intention in an instant, because of the praise. “Dawn?” Histrionica looked to her griffon cohort. “It was impressive. I would like to see more...hmmm... technical singing, perhaps?” “One evening Celestia will say, 'liza, oh thing, I want all Equestria your praises to sing! Next week on the twentieth, if I may, I proclaim 'Liza Littlepony Day!'” Rarity lost no time to emulate the soft tinkling of a sweet music box. She sounded serene and her character was no less established than it had been in anger. “Who are you, dear?” asked Dawning Dracon. “I am the director. Dawning Dracon.” She introduced herself, taking the blue feather from behind her ear tuft to write her opinion down. “My name is Rarity, Madam!” Rarity squeaked. “Do you know who I am, Rarity?” Histrionica asked. “You do seem familia- Oh! Oh my! You're Histrion- I... I had no clue you had anything to do with this production! If I had only known. Are you doing backstage work this time around?” “Actually...” Histrionica droned, “I'm Eliza Littlepony. The part you seem to be auditioning for. Do I presume correctly?” Rarity went blank. “I uhhhh... erm...I just....well, you see that I wasn't really auditioning for Eliza! I wouldn't dream of it! Not when I did know that the role had already been so masterfully cast.” Dawning Dracon chuckled behind a clenched talon. Histrionica raised a brow. Her lime green eyes shot to and through Rarity. The latter was frozen in her place for fear Histrionica would destroy her then and there for sheer impertinence. Rarity shook like a leaf at the knees. All four of them. “I see. Well, it has not been masterfully understudied for this show. Not yet.” She scratched a note on her paper, prompting Dawning to sneak a look. Dawning retracted and nodded as the room hung in the balance of tense silence. “Until now.” “Not confirmed yet, since we need to see every audition before we decide on anything.” Dawning Dracon noted sympathetically. “But you're the first one we've seen seem up to such a task. Do you agree?” “I....” Rarity was stupefied. “I thought so.” Histrionica cracked a grin and opened the exit with her magic. “Stay around, and we'll be sure to contact you. You filled out the audition sheet, didn't you?” “I never gave it to you!” Rarity realized, blushing. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty.” Histrionica reminded her. “Ah, right. Very true.” Rarity's strong blush persisted. She offered the sheet Coco Pommel had given her, and placed it down on the desk. Dawning Dracon and Histrionica shared a glance and smile. “Glad to finally get that sense of security.” Histrionica noted happily. “See you very soon, Rarity.” She winked. Rarity raced out of the room, leaving a dazed pony and griffon behind. Her screams of delight echoed down the hall, and received the attention of three waiting ponies. “Did you?” “I did!” “Next!” said Histrionica, before looking to Rarity and nodding her head with a gentle grin. “See?! I did it! I don't quite know what I did, but I did it somehow!” “How did you do that?” Fluttershy asked. “I am Trixie! The Great and Talented!” passed through the door to the room Rarity had exited, slightly muffled. “I'm not sure,” Rarity replied, coming down to Equestria once again. “What are you going to do now?” asked Twilight. Rarity regained her previous state of anxiety. “I... I don't know.” She went wide-eyed. She knew something big had happened, but she wasn't quite sure if that big thing also happened to be a good thing. She gulped.
Just one Gummi piece, please. I'm begging you! Yeah, I know. I've been like this, in this user rank, for a long time. But I swear! Just ONE more Gummi ship piece, and I'll be right back on my feet before you know it. C'mon. One chance. Just one hit point. I need this.
I am going to need an extension. In the middle of a big move, and my time/atmosphere to record is dismal.
I agree with @DigitalAtlas here. Beside sounding awfully big for your britches (Does this automatically make me turn 50 if I use this phrase?), I don't have much pity for people who look to any medium with apparently high expectations, and then whine when they tend to just disappoint themselves. If you know what you're looking for, or don't go in with heaps of expectations in a game you had no part in designing, then you'll find you enjoy it more. That goes for games, movies, shows, ecetera ecetera ecetera. I have never played Half Life. You know what I hear about all the time? You know what we all hear about all the time. Gaben can't count to 3. There's such ridiculously high expectations for that game that they just can't really even dare. The gaming community of today is summed up in what you define as a rant. They're incessant. They ramble. They don't have to be reasonable. I watched your review of Magicbands. It's not hard to reach a logical, economical conclusion as to why you have to buy your own. Yet, you present it as a raw deal. It's a raw deal if, with KH II.5, you can compile enough oversights- so thin that they're anorexic- to label it a "half-assed port". I can't judge you on the views. I've only just started exploring my options on YouTube, and it is a hard market. Something you have to realize though: a piece of media can be viewed by millions of people, and there's still billions who haven't; and within that group of millions, there's a half-million at least who don't even register who made it or with what in mind when they did. Especially in the modern age, where it's more common place to criticize rather than analyze. I just gotta say. Chill, man. You're a good player, I can see that, but the world's full of gamer-misanthropes as it is. Why not embrace a challenge you can't control? You take on the Lvl 1 challenge pretty well. What did you like about KH II.5?
Gonna be blunt here, @Misty : How is it that you're single? Rhetorical question, but still. I mean. Like, giiiirrlll, you're like a good pizza at a Chinese Buffet. I'm not feeling it, personally, but I won't deny the concept is well-established. Of course, that analogy would make you food; you're not food. But... I digest. Darn it, now I'm thinking about pizza. Digress. DI-GRESS. Is it the smart thing? I don't personally think I'm an unattractive guy by society's entirely overblown, shallow, and self-serving standards, but the fact I know a few fancy words and what subject the word "Ethyl" is connected to tends to scare potential suitors off. Wait, are girls suitors too? I have never looked into this. More girls need to hit on more guys they like; this is something we, as a species, need to change, because guys can really suck at it sometimes and we need a balance of guys and girls who are good at it, and guys and girls who are terrible at it (But without the whole "You don't like me? I kill you" mentality) to make the rest of us not look as bad as we do at it. Well, screw, anyway, the whole "Oi, look 'ere, I got a brain"-"Oh yeah? Well, I don' like me a gal 'ooo can fink fer hershelf." deal. No need in changing the causation there. Obviously. This feels like pontificating. I just want to pay a compliment and express my slight confusion. You are a nice-looking lady (Even though you are reportedly twelve, and I may go to jail for saying so), and you are very smart; this is also well-established. The world does not need this great mystery. The suspense is killing me. ARGH! HEY! YOU! THE SHMUCK ON THE CORNAH! ASK HER OUT! Look at those eyes, you yutz. Those are the eyes of a person who makes it in History books, dammit. I'm not kidding. And I only know some Yiddish insults through watching a lot of movies based in New York, New York. That's all I got. In compliments, words, and Yiddish expressions. Okay, well, meshugenna. Bubala. Mazel Tov. Wait, is that Russian or Yiddish? To the wiki! Latke. Does food count? And now I'm thinking about Pizza again...
Glen: Noun. A secluded narrow valley. Base knew that definition. They appeared to be in a glen besieged by floral foes. They needed a good flouncing. Wait, would that be pruning? The beings who lived in this part of the world seemed to be part beautiful women from the waist up. Everything below that was either a zebra, a donkey, but most were horses. They'd ran off when the Heartless came knocking, but this was where they lived. No one was getting displaced on Base's watch. Not even Glen, who shared a name with a secluded, narrow type of valley. Stratos seemed to agree with him... even though Base hadn't said anything. Then he was agreeing with Stratos. They needed to get rid of all the Heartless, and not just the one they needed something from. It would prove to be a difficult brawl. The Heartless had a natural advantage, surrounded by foliage and being foliage. They'd be able to use the environment to their advantage and- He was right. His stream of thought cut off when a vine wrapped around his leg. Not only that, but he received a swift kick to the face from one of the twirling Tornado Steps. Held in place, Base recovered from the attack and rebuffed the turn-around troublemaker; one swift strike from his Star Seeker, and the Heartless burst like a bubble of dismal confetti. Another vine wrapped around his ankle, and the minions rushed him. They preyed on his perceived restraint. He proved each of them wrong with Fire. Each one popped and burned, but there were two more to replace every one. He had great stores of magical retention, but he could sustain it only so long. Sooner or later, he'd have to wait for them to come within blade's reach, and the vines were scrapping his locked ankles. "A bit of assistance, if you please! I'm afraid the big, ugly one caught me off guard." Base shouted while casting. He shot one projectile of flame at the Poison Plant, but it seemed to have too much health to budge. He hacked at the vines, but they were like steel and it would take cutting off the source to loosen. He aimed a Fire spell at the tinier enemies, but he'd reached the exhaustion point. He maintained composure. Just because he'd run out of magical energy did not mean that he was out of the Will to Fight. He slashed at the steppers as they stepped to him. They jumped and spun, trying to kick him but he blocked their advances. He worked until he'd achieved something of a berzerker "zen". He bore his teeth, his face red, his hair tousled, and he was more the sight of perserverance than he'd been before. It was a turning point. He was, at a recent time, close to swallowed by a Tyranosaurus. He'd fought many manners of beasts throughout his journey, and he was beyond accustomed. He enjoyed ridding the worlds of evil. He fought the lackeys when they needed to be dealt with, but the Heartless were different. The Heartless were not uneducated and misguided, they were tools of darkness. He understood all this. He slayed them one after another, even when he received a brutal kick or two. He fought with valor, even if a bit enraged. He wasn't sure how he looked. He wasn't paying attention to that. He didn't even notice when he broke free from the Poison Plant's clutches. Free, he did a number on the minions, and made his way to the main target. He bashed and smacked the Poison Plant, but it stayed resolute. It wasn't going to fall, no matter how much just Base unleashed on it. OOC: 622 words= 30+ EXP 5/12
Never got a notification for that reply. You were certainly right about that "do well" aspect. It was hard to choose between you and Nights. You...
Thinking of getting a Cherry Brown Switch Keyboard. Up in the air. Anyone have advice on Mechanical Keyboards? Shoot me a PM, please, if so.
I'd feel terrible if they remember you; I see you quite often and barely seem to remember you. Friendly jab, @Knight of Fafnir. Friendly jab. Meanwhile, back on the ranch: HOLY SMOKES! 2006. That's one of the oldest accounts I've seen in a while. Quite a bit has changed since the last time you likely dropped by, but I hope you adapt just as well. Welcome back.
Edit or no edit? I'm currently choosing between whether or not to use a new system of writing, and the right path is not yet clear. It's now been close to two years since I rejoined KH-Vids.net. When I came back, one of the first things I did was join an RP, and that RP inspired me to write a fan-fiction. This culminated in "Based Forward", and, yeah, I am proud of it so far. But I'm always striving to become a better writer, even if somebody tells me I'm good at what I do. I've always been bad at self-editing. I favor flowery, poetic language and attention to artistic details. It's, to me, an important part of the reading experience. Recently, though, I've stumbled across an online app. It allows me to use my voice without being unsure of whats in error and what isn't. It also lets me keep a train of thought, which I don't do as well by myself. If you would prefer just to help me with my problem, click here to skip ahead. If you like useful gadgets that make things easier, then continue reading. It's called Hemingway, and it advises you of the following details: For editing Note: Many of these are not inherent mistakes in writing. What's listed is what writers tend to overdo, and it tends to go awry. If the writer doesn't know they are doing it, they can get away from the point they are trying to make. A mistake made on purpose, though, is not a mistake at all. It's artistic license. So long as you can defend it, then it can fly. All these options are ones you can turn off in the app for this same reason. Sort of like writing an Original Character's name in Microsoft Word and getting Spell-checked. A computer program's logic isn't perfect. It tells you when a sentence is hard to read. It doesn't mean that the sentence is bad. It just tells you that someone may find it hard to know what you're saying. The more of these there are, the more they bring up the reading level. How verbose the text is also raises the reading level. Suppose you had a sentence that just sort of drags on and on; it adds a touch of flavor, but you never want too much. This highlights in yellow. It tells you when sentences are very hard to read. These sentences tend to run on and you're just better off cutting them down. That is, if you are aiming at audiences other than ones with college degrees. These sentences aren't bad either, but they stand a higher chance of being bad, because sentences with a ridiculous length create a story of their own and can distract too much from the greater plot at hand. This highlights in red. It tells you when a word you picked has a simpler way of saying it. It doesn't show up a lot. It catches on if your language is over-inflated, but it still doesn't go off often. It is very strict about the word very though. It tells you to omit any use of the word, and, the truth is, it's right. Most of the time. Instead of very sad, try morose[1]. On the inverse, a very old man is not an ancient man[2]. Obvious to see, there's two sides to a coin. Very is a word used when you know exactly what you're saying with it. The very definition of it is "Truth-related". This highlights in purple. It tells you when you use an adverb. I am not your Grammar teacher. I'm not telling you what an adverb really is. Huh? See what I did there? Well, since this text is so short, it tells me to take that adverb out. If the text is longer, though, it tells me how many adverbs I should use. It's all about the ratio. If there's adverbs all over the place, then details jump right over the reader. If there's none in a emotional piece of fiction, then it's bland. Try to limit them to describing how a character says something[3]. It's all about balance. This highlights in blue. It tells you when you are using the passive voice. It's not a bad thing. It can be annoying though, because it can slow the narrative if you overdo it. A passive voice sentence puts the subject of a sentence at the end. I can't force a Passive Voice example, because I have yet to master Active and Passive. I am especially happy to know it can be used . Oh look. Passive voice. Doesn't look so bad. That's why Hemingway lets you use more Passive voice examples than adverbs. It, like adverbs, gives a numerical suggestion for balance. This highlights in green. Data Readability: How easy it is to read your work, in its entirety. Right now, since the text is so simple, blunt, and to the point, it has a Grade 3-4 reading level. On average. You may want to cap off at Grade 10, as it suggests. Everything above Grade 10 is just going to be a considerable chore to read. Not bad. Just difficult. Great if you like to make work that can. Paragraphs: Just how many you have. Sentences: Just how many you have. Words: Just how many you have. Characters: The letters, not the plot devices. Just how many you have. Letters: How many of your characters are in the Alphabet. It doesn't include punctuation, brackets, or anything like that. Read. Time: How long it's going to take the average reader to get from the beginning and reach the end. It doesn't give you any limits, but it is useful to know. For example, if the post you're making on "What I Ate for Lunch" is going to take twenty minutes. Likewise, suppose what you're making is something that stirs your blood. It takes two seconds to peruse. Uh uh. Here's the problem I'm having though. I put the first chapter of "Based Forward" through the wash of Hemingway, and I don't know. I don't know if it's nicer, cleaner, and a better choice. I don't know if I should keep things exactly as they are, with warts and all. I've given you examples of what I'm mulling over. I've provided the two versions as well. I marked them for convenience below. It went from a Grade 11 reading level to a Grade 5 reading level. That is likely the biggest disappointment for me, even though I get the logic of an easy read. I don't know which to think though. Is it good that it's attainable to much wider audience? or was it better for it to be a fan-fiction that had a High School reading level? Let's be honest here: Fan-Fictions can be lucky to have comprehensibility at all. Did I lose my voice? Or is the text stronger with greater variety in sentence lengths? Basically, am I making the right choice? Should I edit the other chapters and continue to use Hemingway when I write? Comparison Hemingway Edit Original Version Spoiler: Hemingway Data Hemingway Readability= Grade 6 Paragraphs= 8 Sentences= 135 Words= 1625 Characters= 8752 Letters= 6992 Read. Time= 6 minutes; 30 seconds Original Readability= Grade 11 Paragraphs= 3 (Regardless, I probably should edit this aspect. The fact I wound up with more paragraphs is good) Sentences= 77 Words= 1792 Characters= 9942 Letters= 7977 Read. Time= 7 minutes; 10 seconds Hemingway Edit B ase awoke with a start. Darkness… impermeable and suffocating. He struggled to keep the playback of the most recent memory of his out of his recollection. He shut his eyes tight. The memory came to him anyway, of course, with full disregard of his attempt. His own mind denied his trying with ardent intensity to suppress it. It infuriated him as the images reeled together into one straight, inescapable vision. A nightmarish vision, and one the likes of which he had never before dared to know. Unavoidable, like the tears streaming down his face, the nightmare began again. ♫♪♪♫ It had been a murky day in Theate City on the day all its ways of life came crashing down. Rain fell like a dense curtain of cold and calamity. The rain had a sorrow to it. It was like the rain was a collection of tears of the thousands of people crying out enmasse. They cried out in painful, constant agony across the entirety of the expansive city. The day had started normal and continued per usual, until dusk fell. Chaos seeped in like a river through a burst dam. The smell of lit gasoline from a nearby car choked the young man. His name was Sebastian Noble, but he more often knew the name Base. He was the sole soul on the barren street, for all he knew. A broken fire hydrant the car had hit, produced a geyser of water from the concrete. He was cold, tired, lost, coughing, and he was completely soaked from head to toe. His tousled black hair stuck to his forehead as he looked one way, then the other way on the street. No one. No sign of life anywhere except for the screams that came from all corners at once. To say the screams were faint would be a blatant lie; the screams, in fact, stuck out a great deal. It was like a chorus conducted by a demon. The impromptu choir cried out in a tormented, as well as tormenting, unorganized staccato. The perversity rocked the core of Base's mind. Ultimately, the choir produced an odd soloist in its antiphonal production. Four Whole notes, tied by the tangible terror all around, built to a crescendo. The singular crier descended from her ill-gotten perch from high above the same street. From high up in one of the many interminable skyscrapers, a young person fell. She popped into Base's weather-limited sight. The concrete was, in this case, a double bar line. The cry ended with a crack and a sickening, abrupt half beat of grotesque ambiance. The screaming soloist was there on the sidewalk in front of Base. She was just as able to reanimate as he had been to intervene. He moved onto the gray, darkened concrete, a three yard distance away. It was the hero in Base that caused him to approach the ceased screamer. This heroic predisposition would prove useless, as it seemed, in this particular case. He glanced over the sunken soloist with dismay. He saw clearly that she could be no older than a year ahead of his seventeen. Eyes that was drained of life, but they possessed a lingering character. Petite and dressed in a satin night gown, she had landed unscathed. There were no scratches or bruises on her skin. Not even life's wire puddled from where her head had cracked the concrete. If it were possible to see any evidence of life within her, it would be possible to think she was fine. She'd be okay, and would awake any moment, as if waking from a bad dream. Since she landed unscathed, Base held out some faint and foolish hope. He hoped that he had not just watched someone leaving a crumbling world. This hope was not a realistic one, nor was it the reality at all. Instead, there was only the horrific stare she had still trapped in her eyes. There was no rise and fall of the chest. There was not any traceable movement of the body whatsoever. Not even a sliver of a possibility of life inert existed. In a moment of contemplation, Base studied the face. He thought, for a moment, that he could have known this girl in life. Her facial features even struck a strange familiarity. Maybe he might have seen her before, but would never have known her on any personal level. Base was not so much social, as he was, what he said, a social repellent. No one wanted anything to do with him at any point in his life. He was... different. He was good-looking and mild-mannered, but impossible for many to decipher. Most he had known didn't even bother to try. Theate was never in short supply of idle judgments before it came crashing down. There was, still, no judgement held in this young woman's face. There was only pained sorrow. Something terrible had happened just before she fell, and it had locked her face. The pain of sorrow invaded Base's tattered soul as the perplexity ripened to fruition. He didn't even let go of a whimper, but instead he clenched his fists. All the injustices caused by the ensuing chaos of darkness were overtaking him. The darkness that had descended on his world and was succeeding in conquering it. Then, an answer to his feeling of emotional-overload, a flash of light blinded him. The biggest secret he had ever kept appeared in his right hand without his prompting it to. He looked down at the device and sneered at it with disgust. He had no clue what this object really was, just as he did not know why it was a giant silver and gold key. It did not bring the feeling of vigor and strength it had when it first appeared to him a year back. It only brought a sense of a burden he did not wish to carry. It represented a lie. A lie which he had told by never telling neither his parents nor Uncle Dean of i- (!) His heart sank as he thought of it. 'In this... where could they be in it?' This was the forbearing thought. 'What if, in all those screams still going on ... what if theirs is one of them.' This thought haunted him and froze him more than the chilling precipitation ever could. He threw a glare at the weapon at his side, but this look faded when he changed his focus down to the girl. Her blank stare pointed at nothing. It inspired in Base all the fears brought on by the sight of Death. Crouching down close beside the departed, Base closed the lifeless eyes. The least he could do for her. He extended the courtesy of making Death resemble its benign counterfeit, Sleep. The same moment her eyes shut, another blinding light struck him. The light erupted from the girl as if she were a flood lamp. He watched the light condense and thicken onto core of her motionless chest. The light softened to a dull flame. It was a beam that condensed and became a single object hovering over her torso. A crystalline heart that turned as it began a slow rise. It spun wisps of red smoke that whirled inside it and tiny beams of light shot out from within. It swirled with the grace of a ballerina, majestic and bright in the air. It radiated a soft glow around it and emanated a soft tinkerbell sound as it rose. Once it reached eye level with Base, it hovered and rotated. Base listened. There came a weak and disembodied voice from within that spoke with tenderness. 'Please... run...’ was all Base heard... or rather, thought he heard. It didn't matter if he believed it or not. The Heartless had taken notice anyway. Base did not know what he faced when he whirled around on his heel. He only had heard suspicious chattering noises beginning to swarm behind him. Creatures of darkness had manifested in the streets, and in healthy numbers. They were the Heartless. There were sixteen of the tiny beasts in all. A dozen Shadows congregated, with yellow orbs their eyes; a living shadow. Four small bell-shaped imps wearing two different color-schemes hovered over the lower Purebloods. One pair wore green armor and a brown cap, a duo of Green Requiems. The other, red armor with a yellow cap; Red Nocturnes. Small, yellow eyes stared from a shadowy orb between the caps and their armor. Eyes that danced in the fog like lanterns danced on a wire in the wind. They were strange to Base, but they each had names. Then there was what Base knew: nothing, save that these monsters did not look weak. Their idling there in the street made him precarious. One of the imps took a step forward, as Base swallowed a heavy dry lump in his throat while he watched it. So far, it had been the only one to have made a move. But, with every clumsy-looking, sweeping step, it drew closer to him and the girl. 'They're after either me or her', he summarized from the ambiguity. 'I can't let either happen.' Base gritted his teeth and readied his stance. He stared into the little yellow orbs, and it shook him. He stayed. Closer, closer, and closer, yet Base stood his ground against the confronting beasts. If he could save no one else, why not save the heart of the person he could protect to some degree? There was at least one thought that grew when the scout sprang from the ground. This instant could be his last. He let a light burn down deep inside him. He was ready to face the darkness. Back up to Seletion Original B ase awoke with a start. ‘Darkness… impermeable and suffocating Darkness…’ he thought as he struggled with to keep the playback of the most recent memory of his out of his recollection. He shut his eyes tightly and almost as soon as he sprang in the foreign and unfamiliar bed he found himself in. The memory came to him anyway, of course, with full disregard of his attempting of his trying to suppress it. This point infuriated him as the images reeled together into one straight, inescapable vision. A nightmarish vision the likes of which he had never before dared to know. Unavoidable, like the tears streaming down his face, the nightmare began again. ♫♪♪♫ It had been a murky day in Theate City on the day all manners and walks of life came crashing down. Rain fell like a dense curtain of cold and calamity. Stinging sorrow; it was as though the rain was itself the collection of tears of the people crying out in vast quantities along the many city blocks. They cried out in agony across the entirety of the expansive city. The smell of burning oil from a nearby crashed car, partially on the sidewalk, partially on the road, choked the sense of smell and further limited the amount of breathable of the young boy Sebastian "Base" Noble, the sole denizen of the barren street. Flooding water not only from the sky but also from a disturbed fire hydrant, tossed aside by the wayward vehicle that had crashed, dominated his sense of hearing as the eruption continued unattended. In short, he was cold, tired, lost, could barely breathe or see, and he was completely soaked from head to toe, straight down to the bone. His customarily tousled black hair stuck to his forehead as he looked one way, then the other down the street. No one. No sign of life anywhere except for the screams that came from all corners at once. To say the screams were faint would be a blatant lie; the screams, in fact, stuck out a great deal. As a chorus conducted by Barbas, the impromptu choir cried out in a tormented as well as tormenting, unorganized staccato. As if not enough of the perverse to molest the very core of Base's youthful but strangely mature mind, the choir came to produce a soloist in its off key antiphony. Four whole notes, tied together by bands of unstopping terror, crescendoed as the singular crier descended from her ill-gotten perch from high above the very same street; from one of the many interminably high skyscrapers that made up Theate. All at once, as she came into Base's weather-limited sight, the double bar line, a physical horizontal one instead of the usual vertical one on paper, was reached and the release of the cry abruptly ended with a sickening half beat. The soloist was there, right there on the sidewalk, directly in front of Base, helpless to reanimate as he had been to intervene. He moved tentatively onto the greyed concrete, barely a three yards distance away. It was the hero in Base that caused him to approach the ceased screamer. However, this heroic predisposition would prove useless, as it seemed, in this particular case. He quickly glanced over the sunken soloist with dismay, perceiving easily that she could be no older than a year ahead of his of 17. Her face was of a rare kind of beauty, and though the life had been visibly drained from her blank and haunted eyes, her lips and her cheeks as well, they all possessed the character of novel loveliness. Petite and conservatively dressed, for her age anyway, she was visually unscathed; virtually no scratches or bruises, and not even a prominence of life's wire that should have puddled from where her head had impacted the ground before the rest of her. Were it possible to conceive any evidence of life within her, it would be possible to think she was perfectly fine and would awake any moment, as if from a bad dream that could be read in the horrific stare she was stuck in. Absolutely unscathed, Base held out some faint and foolish hope that he had not just watched someone commit themselves out of a crumbling world successfully. This hope was not a realistic one, nor was it very real at all. No rise and fall of the chest, nor any traceable movement of the body whatsoever, could be found about the person; not even a sliver of a possibility of life inert. For a moment of silent contemplation, Base studied the face and thought, very briefly, that he could have very easily known this girl in life, since her features struck a strange familiarity. Maybe he might have seen her, but would never have known her personally. Base was not so much socially awkward as he was socially repellent. He was neither hideous in image, and he was not particularly annoying in character. He was merely: different. The quality of difference from the masses, which Theate was never in any short supply of before today, radiated from the lifeless corpse in almost tangible pang of pain Base could taste The pain of sorrow invaded Base's tattered soul as the perplexity of the reality at hand came to full fruition. He let out not even the whimper of a cry, but instead gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at the injustices caused by the ensuing chaos of darkness that had descended on his world all at once. It was at that same moment, as if an answer to his feeling of emotional-overload, with a flash of light, the greatest secret he had ever kept appeared in his right hand without his prompting it to. He looked down at the newly arrived weapon and sneered at it with disgust that had not constructed his features for a great while. He had no clue what this object was, just as he did not know why it was shaped like a giant silver and gold key. Currently, it did not bring the feeling of vigor and strength it once had when it first appeared to him a year back; it only brought sense of a burden he did not wish to carry. It represented a lie, which he had told by never telling neither his parents nor Uncle Dean of i- (!) His shot up and his heart sank as he thought of it. 'In this madness... where are they?' This was the first forbearing thought. 'What if, in all those screams still going on ... what if theirs is one of them.' These thoughts haunted him and froze him more to the spot than the chilling precipitation ever could. He threw a detesting glare at the handled weapon at his side, but this look of contempt faded instantaneously when he changed his focus down to the girl. Her blank stare was directed in no particular direction, yet was faced in a single direction, and inspired in Base all the fears the sight of death brought on. Crouching down close beside the departed, Base closed the lifeless eyes solemnly. The very least he could do for her now was to offer the courtesy of making death resemble its peaceful counterfeit. At the same moment her eyes were forcibly shut, a blinding light suddenly about her person caused Base to draw back immediately as he watched the light condense and thicken into one place: at the very core of her motionless chest. The light softened to a dull flame-like beam that condensed even further and became a single object hovering over her torso. The object was a crystalline heart that slowly turned as it began a very slow ascent, as wisps of red smoke whirled inside it and tiny beams of light shot out from without. It swirled majestically and bright in the air, radiating a soft glow around it and emanating a soft tinkling sound as it rose. Once it reached somewhere around eye level with Base, it ceased to rise, but continued in its gradual rotation. From within it, Base listened intently, came a weak and disembodied voice seemingly from within that spoke with a feminine tenderness. 'Please... run...’ was all Base heard... or rather, thought he heard. He did not have long to ponder whether or not the occurrence's certainty was possible or impossible. The Heartless had taken notice. Base did not know the sight he was faced with when he whirled around on his heel when suspicious chattering noises began to swarm behind him. Creatures of darkness had recently populated the streets, and in healthy numbers. The two opposing schools of thought herein on Decker Street as Base took in the new and strange sight, and both of them were, in fact, very different from each other: What was fact and what Base knew. The facts standing thus were the monsters were and would be well known as "Heartless"; there were sixteen in all. A dozen Shadows made up the ground force, with piercing yellow orbs for eyes that shot through the rain's fog, and four small bells of two different color-schemes hovered some distance above the physically lower Purebloods; one pair was green, a duo of Green Requiems and the other were red, and were Red Nocturnes. Then there was what Base knew: absolutely nothing, save that these monsters did not look friendly, and that their idleness there in the street made him extremely precarious. One of the ground-based imps took a step forward, as Base swallowed a heavy dry lump in his throat while he watched it. So far, it had been the only one to have made a move, but with every clumsy-looking, sweeping step, it drew closer to him and the girl. 'Either it or all of them were after either him or this girl', was what he summarized from the ambiguous intent. 'I can't let either happen.' Base gritted his teeth once more and readied his stance, his Keyblade all but forgotten at his side, and stared into the little yellow orbs occasionally shifting up at him. Closer, closer, and closer it came, yet still Base stood his ground between the beasts and the beauty. If he could save no one else, why not save the heart of the person he could protect to some degree? Still, there was at least one creeping thought that grew on him as the scouting Shadow leaped all at once from the ground and upwards towards his torso. He was faintly sure that very instant could be his last, and yet still he stayed; there was still a chance, after all, and he let that light burn down deep inside him. He was ready to face the darkness. Back up to Seletion Citations1 Quote in picture and text in this piece are inspired by Robin Williams as John Keating, Dead Poets Society, 1989 2 Quote in picture by C.S. Lewis, noted author of the Narnia Series, among other things, 1898-1963 3 Quote in picture from Stephen King, noted author of the Horror genre, 1947-?
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B ase awoke with a start. Darkness… impermeable and suffocating. He struggled to keep the playback of the most recent memory of his out of his recollection. He shut his eyes tight. The memory came to him anyway, of course, with full disregard of his attempt. His own mind denied his trying with ardent intensity to suppress it. It infuriated him as the images reeled together into one straight, inescapable vision. A nightmarish vision, and one the likes of which he had never before dared to know. Unavoidable, like the tears streaming down his face, the nightmare began again.
It had been a murky day in Theate City on the day all its ways of life came crashing down. Rain fell like a dense curtain of cold and calamity. The rain had a sorrow to it. It was like the rain was a collection of tears of the thousands of people crying out enmasse. They cried out in painful, constant agony across the entirety of the expansive city. The day had started normal and continued per usual, until dusk fell. Chaos seeped in like a river through a burst dam. The smell of lit gasoline from a nearby car choked the young man. His name was Sebastian Noble, but he more often knew the name Base. He was the sole soul on the barren street, for all he knew. A broken fire hydrant the car had hit, produced a geyser of water from the concrete. He was cold, tired, lost, coughing, and he was completely soaked from head to toe. His tousled black hair stuck to his forehead as he looked one way, then the other way on the street. No one. No sign of life anywhere except for the screams that came from all corners at once. To say the screams were faint would be a blatant lie; the screams, in fact, stuck out a great deal. It was like a chorus conducted by a demon. The impromptu choir cried out in a tormented, as well as tormenting, unorganized staccato. The perversity rocked the core of Base's mind. Ultimately, the choir produced an odd soloist in its antiphonal production. Four Whole notes, tied by the tangible terror all around, built to a crescendo. The singular crier descended from her ill-gotten perch from high above the same street. From high up in one of the many interminable skyscrapers, a young person fell. She popped into Base's weather-limited sight. The concrete was, in this case, a double bar line. The cry ended with a crack and a sickening, abrupt half beat of grotesque ambiance. The screaming soloist was there on the sidewalk in front of Base. She was just as able to reanimate as he had been to intervene. He moved onto the gray, darkened concrete, a three yard distance away. It was the hero in Base that caused him to approach the ceased screamer. This heroic predisposition would prove useless, as it seemed, in this particular case. He glanced over the sunken soloist with dismay. He saw clearly that she could be no older than a year ahead of his seventeen. Eyes that was drained of life, but they possessed a lingering character. Petite and dressed in a satin night gown, she had landed unscathed. There were no scratches or bruises on her skin. Not even life's wire puddled from where her head had cracked the concrete. If it were possible to see any evidence of life within her, it would be possible to think she was fine. She'd be okay, and would awake any moment, as if waking from a bad dream. Since she landed unscathed, Base held out some faint and foolish hope. He hoped that he had not just watched someone leaving a crumbling world. This hope was not a realistic one, nor was it the reality at all. Instead, there was only the horrific stare she had still trapped in her eyes. There was no rise and fall of the chest. There was not any traceable movement of the body whatsoever. Not even a sliver of a possibility of life inert existed. In a moment of contemplation, Base studied the face. He thought, for a moment, that he could have known this girl in life. Her facial features even struck a strange familiarity. Maybe he might have seen her before, but would never have known her on any personal level. Base was not so much social, as he was, what he said, a social repellent. No one wanted anything to do with him at any point in his life. He was... different. He was good-looking and mild-mannered, but impossible for many to decipher. Most he had known didn't even bother to try. Theate was never in short supply of idle judgments before it came crashing down. There was, still, no judgement held in this young woman's face. There was only pained sorrow. Something terrible had happened just before she fell, and it had locked her face. The pain of sorrow invaded Base's tattered soul as the perplexity ripened to fruition. He didn't even let go of a whimper, but instead he clenched his fists. All the injustices caused by the ensuing chaos of darkness were overtaking him. The darkness that had descended on his world and was succeeding in conquering it. Then, an answer to his feeling of emotional-overload, a flash of light blinded him. The biggest secret he had ever kept appeared in his right hand without his prompting it to. He looked down at the device and sneered at it with disgust. He had no clue what this object really was, just as he did not know why it was a giant silver and gold key. It did not bring the feeling of vigor and strength it had when it first appeared to him a year back. It only brought a sense of a burden he did not wish to carry. It represented a lie. A lie which he had told by never telling neither his parents nor Uncle Dean of i- (!) His heart sank as he thought of it. 'In this... where could they be in it?' This was the forbearing thought. 'What if, in all those screams still going on ... what if theirs is one of them.' This thought haunted him and froze him more than the chilling precipitation ever could. He threw a glare at the weapon at his side, but this look faded when he changed his focus down to the girl. Her blank stare pointed at nothing. It inspired in Base all the fears brought on by the sight of Death. Crouching down close beside the departed, Base closed the lifeless eyes. The least he could do for her. He extended the courtesy of making Death resemble its benign counterfeit, Sleep. The same moment her eyes shut, another blinding light struck him. The light erupted from the girl as if she were a flood lamp. He watched the light condense and thicken onto core of her motionless chest. The light softened to a dull flame. It was a beam that condensed and became a single object hovering over her torso. A crystalline heart that turned as it began a slow rise. It spun wisps of red smoke that whirled inside it and tiny beams of light shot out from within. It swirled with the grace of a ballerina, majestic and bright in the air. It radiated a soft glow around it and emanated a soft tinkerbell sound as it rose. Once it reached eye level with Base, it hovered and rotated. Base listened. There came a weak and disembodied voice from within that spoke with tenderness. 'Please... run...’ was all Base heard... or rather, thought he heard. It didn't matter if he believed it or not. The Heartless had taken notice anyway.
Base did not know what he faced when he whirled around on his heel. He only had heard suspicious chattering noises beginning to swarm behind him. Creatures of darkness had manifested in the streets, and in healthy numbers. They were the Heartless. There were sixteen of the tiny beasts in all. A dozen Shadows congregated, with yellow orbs their eyes; a living shadow. Four small bell-shaped imps wearing two different color-schemes hovered over the lower Purebloods. One pair wore green armor and a brown cap, a duo of Green Requiems. The other, red armor with a yellow cap; Red Nocturnes. Small, yellow eyes stared from a shadowy orb between the caps and their armor. Eyes that danced in the fog like lanterns danced on a wire in the wind. They were strange to Base, but they each had names. Then there was what Base knew: nothing, save that these monsters did not look weak. Their idling there in the street made him precarious. One of the imps took a step forward, as Base swallowed a heavy dry lump in his throat while he watched it. So far, it had been the only one to have made a move. But, with every clumsy-looking, sweeping step, it drew closer to him and the girl. 'They're after either me or her', he summarized from the ambiguity. 'I can't let either happen.' Base gritted his teeth and readied his stance. He stared into the little yellow orbs, and it shook him. He stayed. Closer, closer, and closer, yet Base stood his ground against the confronting beasts. If he could save no one else, why not save the heart of the person he could protect to some degree? There was at least one thought that grew when the scout sprang from the ground. This instant could be his last. He let a light burn down deep inside him. He was ready to face the darkness.
Back up to Seletion
B ase awoke with a start. ‘Darkness… impermeable and suffocating Darkness…’ he thought as he struggled with to keep the playback of the most recent memory of his out of his recollection. He shut his eyes tightly and almost as soon as he sprang in the foreign and unfamiliar bed he found himself in. The memory came to him anyway, of course, with full disregard of his attempting of his trying to suppress it. This point infuriated him as the images reeled together into one straight, inescapable vision. A nightmarish vision the likes of which he had never before dared to know. Unavoidable, like the tears streaming down his face, the nightmare began again.
It had been a murky day in Theate City on the day all manners and walks of life came crashing down. Rain fell like a dense curtain of cold and calamity. Stinging sorrow; it was as though the rain was itself the collection of tears of the people crying out in vast quantities along the many city blocks. They cried out in agony across the entirety of the expansive city. The smell of burning oil from a nearby crashed car, partially on the sidewalk, partially on the road, choked the sense of smell and further limited the amount of breathable of the young boy Sebastian "Base" Noble, the sole denizen of the barren street. Flooding water not only from the sky but also from a disturbed fire hydrant, tossed aside by the wayward vehicle that had crashed, dominated his sense of hearing as the eruption continued unattended. In short, he was cold, tired, lost, could barely breathe or see, and he was completely soaked from head to toe, straight down to the bone. His customarily tousled black hair stuck to his forehead as he looked one way, then the other down the street. No one. No sign of life anywhere except for the screams that came from all corners at once. To say the screams were faint would be a blatant lie; the screams, in fact, stuck out a great deal. As a chorus conducted by Barbas, the impromptu choir cried out in a tormented as well as tormenting, unorganized staccato. As if not enough of the perverse to molest the very core of Base's youthful but strangely mature mind, the choir came to produce a soloist in its off key antiphony. Four whole notes, tied together by bands of unstopping terror, crescendoed as the singular crier descended from her ill-gotten perch from high above the very same street; from one of the many interminably high skyscrapers that made up Theate. All at once, as she came into Base's weather-limited sight, the double bar line, a physical horizontal one instead of the usual vertical one on paper, was reached and the release of the cry abruptly ended with a sickening half beat. The soloist was there, right there on the sidewalk, directly in front of Base, helpless to reanimate as he had been to intervene. He moved tentatively onto the greyed concrete, barely a three yards distance away. It was the hero in Base that caused him to approach the ceased screamer. However, this heroic predisposition would prove useless, as it seemed, in this particular case. He quickly glanced over the sunken soloist with dismay, perceiving easily that she could be no older than a year ahead of his of 17. Her face was of a rare kind of beauty, and though the life had been visibly drained from her blank and haunted eyes, her lips and her cheeks as well, they all possessed the character of novel loveliness. Petite and conservatively dressed, for her age anyway, she was visually unscathed; virtually no scratches or bruises, and not even a prominence of life's wire that should have puddled from where her head had impacted the ground before the rest of her. Were it possible to conceive any evidence of life within her, it would be possible to think she was perfectly fine and would awake any moment, as if from a bad dream that could be read in the horrific stare she was stuck in. Absolutely unscathed, Base held out some faint and foolish hope that he had not just watched someone commit themselves out of a crumbling world successfully. This hope was not a realistic one, nor was it very real at all. No rise and fall of the chest, nor any traceable movement of the body whatsoever, could be found about the person; not even a sliver of a possibility of life inert. For a moment of silent contemplation, Base studied the face and thought, very briefly, that he could have very easily known this girl in life, since her features struck a strange familiarity. Maybe he might have seen her, but would never have known her personally. Base was not so much socially awkward as he was socially repellent. He was neither hideous in image, and he was not particularly annoying in character. He was merely: different. The quality of difference from the masses, which Theate was never in any short supply of before today, radiated from the lifeless corpse in almost tangible pang of pain Base could taste The pain of sorrow invaded Base's tattered soul as the perplexity of the reality at hand came to full fruition. He let out not even the whimper of a cry, but instead gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at the injustices caused by the ensuing chaos of darkness that had descended on his world all at once. It was at that same moment, as if an answer to his feeling of emotional-overload, with a flash of light, the greatest secret he had ever kept appeared in his right hand without his prompting it to. He looked down at the newly arrived weapon and sneered at it with disgust that had not constructed his features for a great while. He had no clue what this object was, just as he did not know why it was shaped like a giant silver and gold key. Currently, it did not bring the feeling of vigor and strength it once had when it first appeared to him a year back; it only brought sense of a burden he did not wish to carry. It represented a lie, which he had told by never telling neither his parents nor Uncle Dean of i- (!) His shot up and his heart sank as he thought of it. 'In this madness... where are they?' This was the first forbearing thought. 'What if, in all those screams still going on ... what if theirs is one of them.' These thoughts haunted him and froze him more to the spot than the chilling precipitation ever could. He threw a detesting glare at the handled weapon at his side, but this look of contempt faded instantaneously when he changed his focus down to the girl. Her blank stare was directed in no particular direction, yet was faced in a single direction, and inspired in Base all the fears the sight of death brought on. Crouching down close beside the departed, Base closed the lifeless eyes solemnly. The very least he could do for her now was to offer the courtesy of making death resemble its peaceful counterfeit. At the same moment her eyes were forcibly shut, a blinding light suddenly about her person caused Base to draw back immediately as he watched the light condense and thicken into one place: at the very core of her motionless chest. The light softened to a dull flame-like beam that condensed even further and became a single object hovering over her torso. The object was a crystalline heart that slowly turned as it began a very slow ascent, as wisps of red smoke whirled inside it and tiny beams of light shot out from without. It swirled majestically and bright in the air, radiating a soft glow around it and emanating a soft tinkling sound as it rose. Once it reached somewhere around eye level with Base, it ceased to rise, but continued in its gradual rotation. From within it, Base listened intently, came a weak and disembodied voice seemingly from within that spoke with a feminine tenderness. 'Please... run...’ was all Base heard... or rather, thought he heard. He did not have long to ponder whether or not the occurrence's certainty was possible or impossible. The Heartless had taken notice. Base did not know the sight he was faced with when he whirled around on his heel when suspicious chattering noises began to swarm behind him. Creatures of darkness had recently populated the streets, and in healthy numbers. The two opposing schools of thought herein on Decker Street as Base took in the new and strange sight, and both of them were, in fact, very different from each other: What was fact and what Base knew. The facts standing thus were the monsters were and would be well known as "Heartless"; there were sixteen in all. A dozen Shadows made up the ground force, with piercing yellow orbs for eyes that shot through the rain's fog, and four small bells of two different color-schemes hovered some distance above the physically lower Purebloods; one pair was green, a duo of Green Requiems and the other were red, and were Red Nocturnes. Then there was what Base knew: absolutely nothing, save that these monsters did not look friendly, and that their idleness there in the street made him extremely precarious. One of the ground-based imps took a step forward, as Base swallowed a heavy dry lump in his throat while he watched it. So far, it had been the only one to have made a move, but with every clumsy-looking, sweeping step, it drew closer to him and the girl. 'Either it or all of them were after either him or this girl', was what he summarized from the ambiguous intent. 'I can't let either happen.' Base gritted his teeth once more and readied his stance, his Keyblade all but forgotten at his side, and stared into the little yellow orbs occasionally shifting up at him. Closer, closer, and closer it came, yet still Base stood his ground between the beasts and the beauty. If he could save no one else, why not save the heart of the person he could protect to some degree? Still, there was at least one creeping thought that grew on him as the scouting Shadow leaped all at once from the ground and upwards towards his torso. He was faintly sure that very instant could be his last, and yet still he stayed; there was still a chance, after all, and he let that light burn down deep inside him. He was ready to face the darkness.
Well, obviously. You only had time to type a four-letter word. Well... not a four-letter word, but a word with four-letters, but I digress. I assume you're leaving to focus more on your prominent career as a Hollywood Director. I have learned of you, Smithee, and you do seem to have quite a long and distinguish- No... no... not distinguished...PROLIFIC! Yes, prolific; that's it. I wish you luck in that endeavor. We'll be here. Unless we're not. All the same, good luck, honestly.
Doing a little research about the Disney World parks, lately, I stumbled across a couple of things that have changed since I last visited any Disney Park. Back story here: When I was a kid, growing up in mid-Florida for the better part of the Y2K decade, I visited the Disney Campus and Parks quite often, since we had friends who gave my mom and me free tickets pretty frequently (Back story to the back story: My mom was a single parent for about a decade of my life; she tried very hard to feed my imagination and keep me happy). The new Fantasyland in the Magic Kingdom looks spectacular just from the site of it in pictures and on the map (It recently replaced Mickey's Toon Town Fair). I could live with that; the parks are always changing, and usually for the better. Then, there was Camp Minnie-Mickey in Animal Kingdom; closed, just last year. I always thought it was odd, even as a kid, that the Festival of the Lion King was in a section of the park dedicated to the Deciduous and Coniferous forests of North America (Particularly of the Adirondack Mountains in Northern New York), and they moved that show to the Africa section of the park when they closed the camp down. So I looked into what they were replacing the section with; Avatar? Seriously? I mean, I'd heard of this while I was living in New York, but had earnestly forgotten all about it, and, at the time, wondered where they were going to put it. In fact, I generally forgot most things about Avatar a few years after seeing it; it's a visual work of art, but is just... forgettable. And that's the problem here. Not the value of the Avatar series (Two sequels are planned), but why Disney is forging it and where they could have gone. The why is because Universal built a Harry Potter section. Okay. Pit Harry Potter against Avatar, and you have a very weak race involving the magic of J. K. Rowling and the brilliancy of the film series versus big blue kitty-people with a plot ripped from "Dances with Wolves" with Sci-Fi thrown in. Where it would have been so much better to go: Did you know that Animal Kingdom was supposed to feature a section for Mythical Beasts? Dragons, Basilisks, Minotaur, etc... and they just couldn't do it, so they put Camp Minnie-Mickey there instead for sixteen years. I suppose they're going that route with Avatar now, but with the creatures limited to that franchise. You know, that bird/reptile thing, the Steroid Panther, the kinda Rhinos, etc... Why ditch the creatures that are timeless and go with creatures that are time...ful? They are the opposite of timeless. They are imaginative and somebody probably worked really hard at making them (After being influenced by animals already featured heavily in other parts of the park), but is a fleeting pop culture reference really great investment? Even Robin Williams's performance as the Genie is starting to go right over a modern audience's collective head, because it's full of celebrity impressions from over twenty years ago. It's also a great shame. The original inclusion of North American woodlands was great, as it varied the view of nature (Granted, within a theme park that once held groves of orange trees) that exists in Animal Kingdom. There's the Sahara of Africa, the Rainforests of several continents, the mountainous, snowy regions of Nepal and Asia, and the ancient world of Dinosaurs. Next there will be another spot with probably a giant tree or two, some alien fauna, which they can't make that big, because it might compete with the park's pre-existing moniker, the Tree of Life. It used to have the woodlands of North America. I'm not digging the comparisons here. I suppose it's still relevant because the park section doesn't open until 2017. By then, we may see a resurgence in the popularity of Avatar, or we may see the biggest 180 on Disney's part to try and distance itself from films that could be toxic to their brand; note, they don't even own Avatar, as 20th Century Fox does. Maybe they might even commit to the world of Beasts they'd originally intended or reinvent Camp Minnie-Mickey. Regardless, Avatarland is going to need a miracle to last as long as the Camp did, at any rate, because it'd take a force of nature to keep Avatar relevant. Typically, I'm not the sort to rant about changes to Disney Parks. I grew up constantly seeing little changes and big changes throughout the park. This exists because there's logic that exists that simply makes me wonder "Why?" So many "Why?"s.
"As for honoring Monty, we will do that in our own way. In lieu of flowers or gifts, we ask that you simply do something creative. Use your imagination to make the world a better place in any way that you can. If you know Monty like we do, then you know he would certainly be doing that if he were able to." "Simply do something creative. Use your imagination to make the world a better place in any way that you can." Well, I suppose I could start writing again. Lack of audience be damned; just as soon as I get rid of these blasted ninja onions. You never know when you're time is up, and for what reason it will be. I never knew of Monty Oum, nor much of Rooster Teeth except for friends talking about it every now and again; but how much his work touched people speaks for itself. RWBY seems to be the work of an artistic genius, from the bits I've seen of it. It's a tragedy that such a mind was lost so easily.
Beuce had killed Base. Through one of his trademark, gratuitous finishing moves, Beuce had managed to reduce not only an entire dinosaur, but also an ally, to a smoldering, black smudge on the earth. The only thing left of the dinosaur was the piece they'd been sent to get. To reiterate: Beuce. Murdered. Base. This sharp example of fratricide was clear in the fact that poor Base had been locked in the belly of the beast, and then an unwitting comrade lit that beast on fire. Nothing could exonerate the one-armed friend-killer. There could be no apologies to a lump of dust. Base had put Faith in his friends, and Faith had been one of the moves to prove him wrong. Soon, they would leave with the piece, but short one person. Benebeuce Arnold, Karina, Kaida, Glen,and Kel...no, wait. That wasn't Kel...one moment. The one who is not Kel. "Not Kel" should do for a substitute, as names were not important to a pile of ash. Only, fortunately, Base had been launched from the T-Rex's jaw along with a coughed up bit of Stegosaurus meat when Beuce was being Beuce. He landed safely, his fall broken by the chunk of meat landing before him, but it left him covered from head-to-toe, and dripping in Dino blood. Trudging to his friends, he caught wind of Beuce's last remark about getting "rektd" and shot a bit of Blizzard at him, only to miss on purpose. The ice magic spell flew over Beuce's shoulder and disipated, hitting no one, but Base just stood there, Stegosaurus ichor soaking the scarred earth with droplets at a time. He eyed Beuce, with something of an intent to kill, but instead, he pulled open his bag--- which was, miraculously, clean--- and removed a large blue curtain with a round shower curtain rod that he hung in the air, and it just stayed there, cascading him in privacy that cast no shadow and allowed no one to look inside to see him; if they did, they would see an empty circle where Base should have been. The sounds of a washing machine, dryer, and hair dryer could be heard humming from behind the curtain, but, when Base stepped out of the curtain, fully redressed, clean, and back to his normal self, and he pulled the curtain down to stuff into his bag, he no longer looked at Beuce quite as cruelly. "You almost killed me, but why worry about the past?" He uttered, passive-agressively. "Not like the overdone last moves are getting old or ALMOST KILL PEOPLE WHO HELP YOU!" An eye twitched, but he collected himself. "Now...what to do about this thing..." Base picked up the piece the Dino had left behind, and he inspected it closely. "How exactly do we get it back to Mickey?" He asked the question aloud, though he doubted anyone else knew the answer, just as well as he didn't. OOC: This post doesn't count for the mission, since the mission has ended, but needed closure. Here is a list of how much everyone went up in EXP: Stratos: 120 Base: 69 (I'm not kidding. Stop giggling) Beuce: 59 (Pft...59) Kaida: 18 Karina: 14 Glen: 13
The original one? In the bunker? Oh Hell yes. The point at which everything starts to go a little bonkers itself. Aaaaand now I can hear growling in my head... Dammit...
Okay, I'm going to vote, sooner or later. Don't rush me. It's not like the choice is utterly impossible! Stop implying that it is! Stop! *Sobs* Technical singing: Equal, for the most part. Darkhorse was a bit more enthusiastic to go for a greater range of notes, but Tale was on point for most of the song and there were times where everyone (Including myself) faltered. It happens. Characterization: You both understood who your characters were. I knew exactly who they were and what they felt just from the way you both established them. You both played your characters exceptionally well. Expression: This may MAY be the part where Darkhorse gets the vote. While you were both expressive and portrayed your characters well, it was Darkhorse who continued to build and build as the song reached a climax. Stars reached its climax and... nothing. It was the same as the rest of the song. I'm not holding it to the standard of my choice of expression, but Russell Crowe, though, in his defense, not the most technical singer in the cast, even built up at the end, where it is frequently and consistently done so in a stage performance. EDIT: Upon turning up my volume, I take back my remark about there being no build up. There is. And it is very nice, but it requires increased volume to hear it; if the emotion is really there, it could be a whisper and be heard. As for the double entry of "Stars", I seriously thought no one else would bother with this song, and didn't record a back-up like I did with the Beatles Segment. I had so many other choices, and I really regret not having spoken with Amethyst prior to this, and that I did not put in more than one entry like I'd done before to keep such an event from occuring. For the record, for the next segment, I have already submitted the "Animaniacs" theme song. Please, use this information responsibly. Edit: I hate and love you both. I love that you both put these things forward for the competition. I hate I have to choose between you. EDIT: I chose Tale Wind in a very, very close match. Since his expression wasn't lacking, but his tonal accuracy was greater. It seriously came down to consistency, something I rarely go by. He almost lost it at "Doorway to paradise", and to Darkhorse's tremendous finish. I had to take a ludicrously close inspection to reach this conclusion. I feel that says a great deal of something about both of my competitors.
I sang two entirely different songs for the Beatles segment. This was so, if someone had sung one of them, I'd have a back up. When I did "Stars",...
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