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Adeena's consciousness fades in and out as her eyes adjust to a sudden change in brightness. The glow of the moon and the salt in the breeze roll into the foyer, the book on her chest feels heavy and her back aches from having fallen asleep on the sofa. The front door is open.
Her joints creak and crack, a pain she's all too familiar with- The chitin has again overgrown whilst she dreamed of a life she never lived. She sits up and sets her grimoire aside, eyes focused on the open door. It's night outside. Moonlight bleeds out of the opening and through curtains, crashing waves reverberate just beyond.
She steps onto a pier at the other side, the only sign of their home's existence is the empty doorframe standing on its own behind her. She walks down the wooden pathway, her chitinous feet clacking quietly against the boards, and finally sits at the very end next to the grey-skinned man who took her in.
He's slumped over, his eyes are closed, yet he seems focused on something. With a soft squint, she sees it too: White silhouettes floating above the waves, dipping and weaving like surfers. It is then that she also notices other silhouettes at the beach, phantasms of people. His friends. Unlike hers, his dreams are those that truly were.
Adeena reaches out to touch his shoulder and notices another illusion: Her hand, no longer covered in brown chitin, but white. Delicate, polished, like a true-born changeling and not an accursed. It seems to mimic her movements, or is it the other way around?
"Did I give you enough love, Spore?"
Zerathur mumbles in his sleep in reaction to the hand on his shoulder. That was a name he'd never spoken of before, and a voice that wasn't hers responded:
"The day that you left, my mother and I knew it was for the best."
"Yet it never felt right."
As he responds, his dull blue eyes open and stare out into the dark ocean. The illusion breaks free from her, standing up and walking away. As she looks back, she sees the full figure of Zerathur's long-gone daughter; A pale changeling with long purple hair, simple grey clothes flowing in the sea breeze, a grand crown of chitin and iron grown from her very head.
Adeena loses grip on Zerathur's shoulder, and she quickly looks back at where he was, only to see the vestige of a lightless twirl of blue flames. He's warped away. She'll stay here for a few moments longer, watching the illusion of his friends lounging on the beach and surfing in the waves. And then, when they fade, she'll walk back into the empty doorframe and close the door behind her.
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The Outsider
Haven't written in a while so I'm a little rusty- Do not mind the usage of humanoids, I've just grown more used to it in comparison to writing ponies after so many years.
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July 20, 2025
Edited
*Nitroxus would slide over while rocking on his Saxophone to the pony. He smiled and nodded. He then passed a large gift over.* Happy Birthday!
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Witherwind and his little daughter, Varnish, are sitting against a wall of a street in front of a shop. They seem to be doing something, hoping for bits to be tossed into a semi-filled jar in front of... View More
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You feel the ripples of reality's weave being twisted. Something in this realm has irrevocably changed, you can feel it, but what was it? Zerathur is seen nearby, grimoire open, eyebrows furrowed in c... View More
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Thaumaturgy may not have an intact horn, but he can still sense magic signals. He immediately prods his horn in the direction of it's output and splays his body out threateningly. The only time he's felt this way is when magic was being used ON him... but it seems that wasn't the case here.
He spot... View More
*Nitroxus would shudder. Touching his head, chest and finally his arms. Nitroxus would slowly breathe in and out. He would look at Zerathur and mouth.* What just happened?
Why can't I boop you!?
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You already have! You can only boop once, and then you'd have to wait for the other person to boop back. ^^ I don't boop back, however, I keep all of my boops. The list is currently sitting at.. 685!
"Hey, can you pass me that bottle of gender fluid real quick?" #rp
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Zerathur stares at Chase and slowly nods. "Six," He finally spoke, "Six puberties."
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March 13, 2025
Magic didn't work on BriBra's anti-magic energy shield, the spell fizzling out.
The two ponies giving each other the eyes from across the studio apartment. =3=
"What do you want for lunch? I'll buy this time."
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March 13, 2025
Bright blinked in disbelief.
"One beer? Thats it? No gyros or something? How about I pop down to the craft brewery and pick up a growler."
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March 13, 2025
I bet I can make some pretty good pancakes with this gendered fluid you're all passing around!
:pinkie: someone else makes that pun! (also eek, struggling to understand this site...)
Zerathur offers you a cup of hibiscus tea. "I wanted to make tea, but I can't drink it, so.. Would you like to have it?" #rp
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Ooooh yes please thank you! *pulls out a bottle of ground cayenne pepper and shakes some into the tea before mixing and having a little sip* mmmm yes perfect.
He stares at her.. Takes the cup.. And takes a sip. Zerathur immediately gives the cup back and starts casting cleansing and healing spells on himself.
I... can only drink ink. But I have something that can actually make it ink! One second... *I pull out a potion and drop a drop into the water, turning it instantly into ink.* There, now I can have it.
Of course! Turning it into ink doesn't take away the flavor. It just allows me to drink it safely, that's all.
"Ah, good, good!" He nods, still holding out the cup towards Stickman. "You're gonna wash it when you're done though, ink can be kind of hard to remove from these older porcelain cups."
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March 12, 2025
"I'm on a diet." He replies, straightening his posture and smiling with sarcastic pride. "Nothing but the pain of existence until I figure out how to revert a spell I messed up! Doesn't stop me from being near the kitchen though."
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March 12, 2025
"Because tea is good for your health, and I am offering it to you."
"My hoofwriting's not the best when I'm stressed, so spells are coming out a little skewed." He explained with a slight shrug. "Went to try out a spell a few days ago, and a bunch of frogs appeared out of nowhere. Turns out my 'Cloak of Fog' accidentally came out as "Cloak of Frog', which isn't opti... View More
Thank you for everyone involved, I have finally reached my goal in the funny number of boops and can retirely peacefully. But I won't. Time to try and get 1337!
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(( An off-season short horror story. I don't think I've ever posted this one, seeing that it's been sitting in my WIP folder for a while so.. Have at it! ))
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This is nice. It ain't often that Frost Tear is able to leave her house in the Whispering Woods, the world is a dangerous place after all and only His presence can keep her safe. With the Evergrowing by her side, nothing can bring her harm! Not even the dubiously cheap (yet large) hayburger she's currently munching on, it is definitely a very healthy meal for this Tuesday afternoon.
As the cold autumn breeze rolls through the park, she wonders if her supernatural companion is capable of feeling it. Can it even taste the popsicle it is gnawing at? Although the Evergrowing may wear the skin of a unicorn, it is very.. Obvious that it is the skin; She can see the gaps left by old scrapes showing the woodened interior of the corpse. It really is just a big wooden doll the more she looks at it.
Frost blinks and quickly looks away when she feels his lively blue eyes fall upon her, probably having noticed that  was staring. He's taught her long ago to see through the illusion spells that surround him, spells that obfuscate his very existence to the average pony's eyes, yet even now she finds new strange details of her guardian's true form. Like, how his legs aren't exactly moving and bending how they're supposed to. Kinda weird.
She did not expect, however, that something weirder was about to take place. Quite, just as she was about to take the last bite from her hayburger, a stallion stepped out from behind a tree just a few meters away. And! It was another Evergrowing! Except instead of being a decrepit depiction of a corpse worn by a wooden mannequin, this one was actually a living and breathing stallion with dull blue eyes and white draping clothes.Â
With her mouth still agape, she watched as the Evergrowing, or, well, rowing walked towards their bench. He stopped, squinted his eyes at the undead version of himself, then continued on his merry way down the path to vanish behind another tree. Frost Tear, having witnessed this unprecedent level bullshittery, looked up at her companion and said,
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