The following stained, dog-eared and well-protected journal entry could be found tucked in a corner of the cave... "After the Chrysalis hive showed itself in Canterlot, the public fear and hatred towards changelings was established. And who could blame them-an attack on Equestria's capital, the assault on and temporary imprisonment of their rulers, and a swarm of monsters lead against them-their reactions of panic and racism were only natural. However, some responses went too far. One of them ...

Abby's doing something she hasn't bothered to do in quite a while-meditating. She doesn't like doing it for a variety of reasons. Chiefly among them is it's hard to get a moment alone, another is that there's not often a lot of places, and yet another is that more often than not there's too much emotional turmoil bubbling below the surface for her to even meditate properly. However, she's made it a point to do it tonight, she needs to try to get herself under control. She can feel her desire to...

Sophitia doesn't have a spring in her step today-her usual little gait doesn't seem quite so energetic as before. It's not the weather-she likes the gray, springtime drizzle. It's not the fact she's sober either, her step would still be a bit bouncy... No, today she seems to be stalking, moving purposefully and almost tensely down the street with her poncho clutched about her to keep her at least a little dry, her fluff ears perking this way and that as her piercing blue eyes steal glances alon...

Rose does a lazy cat-stretch, her wings rustling as they extend, before going to plop down at her cushion. She doesn't have time to finish stretching before a white bean plops on her back, a little changeling with a dorky grin on her face, pink mane falling into her eyes. She nuzzles a kiss on the babe gently as she lays down, cooing. "Yes hello my love. I know I'm your favorite seat." The cave seemed...rather odd and empty after their time in Canterlot. She had felt...slightly important and....

Trish groans loudly as, for the third time this week, the wifi goes out. He's only been able to afford the cheapest service for the little moving fort he'd enchanted, he didn't have more for anything else. Which is not good, he'd been in the middle of researching possible cures for vampirism, since his books had worn him out. Of course this takes some serious research since half the articles are made-up or fanfiction-level solutions. It's sad. But it's now sadder cause he can't do anything at al...

"I'm tellin' ya man. One date. All it takes. Give it a go. When was the last time you actually did anything with a girl besides pray with her and listen to her problems. I bet one's blushed at you at least once as you've held her petal-soft hands in yours...mmmmmmmmff" Couper sniffs loftily before taking a bite out of his souffle, chuckling at the sound of discomfort from the stallion across from him. "Can we please stop talking about this. I don't want a date." "You are wasting your life...

What is an identity? Is it what I am, or what others see of me? Do I truly get to define what I want to be Or am I born marked by a man’s theory? ...

Like a blank answer sheet, sitting unanswered, unused the feelings inside emptied, misdirected, confused poured out, they are dripping now, but in the literal sense; the crimson flow, it beads from each empty line, creating an intense silent cry, yet perfectly representing the scream inside ...

Talking to a wall is nice-it will listen, and it certainly won’t talk back but what makes blinds so different? they’ve a story to tell though a tongue they lack. Behind their odd corrugation, ...