Rapidashtrainer
Champagne Ranger!!!
Haiku
Evening falls silent
Dusky colours paint the sky
Valiant pony still prances
Haiku
Evening falls silent
Dusky colours paint the sky
Valiant pony still prances
anna_mage
Chatty Gekko
7,550 Points
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anna_mage
Chatty Gekko
7,550 Points
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sheepcakes
STICK THIS ON THE FRIDGE
Name: Snailshell
Personality: Snailshell is a quick thinker, good at coming up with ideas on the fly. She has to be, given her knack for getting into trouble. Weather it be courting danger, or pulling a prank, Snailshell is nearly always in trouble. She drags her friends along on her hijinx, overruling any objections with a "Its just some harmless fun, no one'll get hurt." She's got a rather pushy personality, and isn't easily dissuaded from her plans.
My Phony Activity Sheet:
2-2-13 edited to add in a word I forgot.
Name: Snailshell
Personality: Snailshell is a quick thinker, good at coming up with ideas on the fly. She has to be, given her knack for getting into trouble. Weather it be courting danger, or pulling a prank, Snailshell is nearly always in trouble. She drags her friends along on her hijinx, overruling any objections with a "Its just some harmless fun, no one'll get hurt." She's got a rather pushy personality, and isn't easily dissuaded from her plans.
My Phony Activity Sheet:
2-2-13 edited to add in a word I forgot.
eldritch stardust
Kawaii Prophet
Kiara Lime
Syrcaid
Garbage Werewolf
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anna_mage
Chatty Gekko
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sheepcakes
grayseasons
Tiny Trickster
Atmadja
Romantic Humorist
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE~
Username: Atmadja
Phony Name: Petit Four
Personality: This romance-novel reading, sweet-treat decorating, valentine-making colt is, well, not the manliest. His ankles are too weak for sports, and he loathes getting dirty, and he can be a bit pretentious. All he really wants to do is sigh dreamily and match-make other phonies, intricately planning their dates to the tiniest thoughtful detail. What's that mare's favorite type of flower? That stallion's favorite flavor? Who's hiding a crush on whom? Petit Four wants to know, and he wants to make things happen. He's a perfectionist who firmly believes that everypony has a soulmate. He's just here to help them find each other! And plan their dates. And maybe then their wedding.
Petit Four loves to plot these things, and he often tires out other phonies with his endless planning and romantic speculation. He especially enjoys doing so during the hours he meticulously decorates wedding cakes and the like. In these moments, he often crafts himself a tiny audience, often out of marshmallows, so that he doesn't feel like he's just talking to himself. Is it cute or just awkward? Petit Four says 'cute'.
Recipe: Valentine's Day Chocolate-Pomegranate Petit Fours (recipe from here.)
Prompt:
11:51 p.m., February 13.
The marshmallow treat stared at Petit Four in a way the colt felt was disproving. Its chocolate-malt eyeballs were sunk low in its white sugary face, its frosting smile slinking slowly downward. It seemed tired, which was unsurprising considering that it had been 'alive' since Petit Four began his paper-valentine-making binge some six hours ago, and that was a long time for a marshmallow treat. It seemed to want to go to bed. Or be eaten. Either/or, really.
Paper lace doilies, elegantly decorated hearts, lines of heart-twisting sappiness decorated the colt's room. Valentines hinting to pairs of the other's desires lay side-by-side on Petit Four's bed, ready for secret delivery the next day. Petit Four looked around his room with a smile full of pride, excited about the prospect of stealthily delivering his matchmaking Valentines the following day.
"Oh, what are you so grumpy about?" he huffed at the marshmallow. "You hardly lent me a hoof at all."
The treat said nothing, but Petit Four could not but feel its gaze was still filled with grump.
"I've made one for every phony I know. And every very special somepony pair that needs to be brought together. I, like the very wise Santa Claus, have both made a list and checked it twice," Petit Four continued, puffing his slight chest out with pride. "It's flawless. My Valentines this year are second to none."
The treat continued glaring.
"HERE, I'll show you," Petit Four pressed, fumbling for his list and unfurling it before his marshmallow disapprover. "Go ahead and find someone I was missing. Find it! I dare you. I have Miss Hidden Hearts, Mr. PARTY, that creepy Friend-Ship, Nice Catch, Morning G........." The colt paused suddenly, his smile evaporating and his eyes growing wide. He grabbed his list, smoothing it out with his hooves, his eyes searching desperately for two specific names. Unable to find them, he gaped at the marshmallow treat, which now seemed smug in its tiredness. "-- my MOTHERS! Sweet, beautiful, kind, wonderful -- how could I -- the most important -- the -- oh -- how could I have-- TO THE KITCHEN!"
And snatching his marshmallow friend -- which lost a chocolate eye from the swiftness of his motion -- Petit Four went sailing out of his room.
"This cannot be happening," Petit Four gasped, setting his white fluff companion down on the kitchen counter, next to the clock that now read 11:54 on its face. He dashed around the kitchen, amassing pots, pans, and piping bags in a precarious tower. "Six minutes to the greatest day of the year, and I haven't even started a present for the sweetest, most upstanding, best-smelling --" He bit off the rest of his sentence as he put his tower on the kitchen counter, narrowly missing his marshmallow friend. "But it's not the time for that now. Now is the time for action.
He worked hurriedly but precisely, melting chocolate, whipping cream, trimming cakes and then finally setting his creation in the freezer. Petit Four huffed with the effort, ignoring the ticking of the clock which showed him midnight had long come and gone. He wiped his forehead with a chocolate-splattered hoof, pink fondant all over his earnest face. It was a mess! He was a mess, the kitchen was a mess, the dishes were a mess – even his marshmallow friend was dotted with pink -- and he loathed messes. But he loved his mothers more, and the sweet little petit fours that now sat in the freezer were testament to that. Maybe, just maybe, they would be good enough to make his mothers forgive the mess he’d left in his wake? He was so tired, and he had so many Valentines to deliver…
Petit Four looked over at his one-eyed, smudged, half-squished marshmallow companion. It eyed him silently back, still grumpy.
“I know, I know,” he sighed, putting the dishes into the sink and starting to clean.
Newbie: N-no... u___u;
Username: Atmadja
Phony Name: Petit Four
Personality: This romance-novel reading, sweet-treat decorating, valentine-making colt is, well, not the manliest. His ankles are too weak for sports, and he loathes getting dirty, and he can be a bit pretentious. All he really wants to do is sigh dreamily and match-make other phonies, intricately planning their dates to the tiniest thoughtful detail. What's that mare's favorite type of flower? That stallion's favorite flavor? Who's hiding a crush on whom? Petit Four wants to know, and he wants to make things happen. He's a perfectionist who firmly believes that everypony has a soulmate. He's just here to help them find each other! And plan their dates. And maybe then their wedding.
Petit Four loves to plot these things, and he often tires out other phonies with his endless planning and romantic speculation. He especially enjoys doing so during the hours he meticulously decorates wedding cakes and the like. In these moments, he often crafts himself a tiny audience, often out of marshmallows, so that he doesn't feel like he's just talking to himself. Is it cute or just awkward? Petit Four says 'cute'.
Recipe: Valentine's Day Chocolate-Pomegranate Petit Fours (recipe from here.)
Prompt:
11:51 p.m., February 13.
The marshmallow treat stared at Petit Four in a way the colt felt was disproving. Its chocolate-malt eyeballs were sunk low in its white sugary face, its frosting smile slinking slowly downward. It seemed tired, which was unsurprising considering that it had been 'alive' since Petit Four began his paper-valentine-making binge some six hours ago, and that was a long time for a marshmallow treat. It seemed to want to go to bed. Or be eaten. Either/or, really.
Paper lace doilies, elegantly decorated hearts, lines of heart-twisting sappiness decorated the colt's room. Valentines hinting to pairs of the other's desires lay side-by-side on Petit Four's bed, ready for secret delivery the next day. Petit Four looked around his room with a smile full of pride, excited about the prospect of stealthily delivering his matchmaking Valentines the following day.
"Oh, what are you so grumpy about?" he huffed at the marshmallow. "You hardly lent me a hoof at all."
The treat said nothing, but Petit Four could not but feel its gaze was still filled with grump.
"I've made one for every phony I know. And every very special somepony pair that needs to be brought together. I, like the very wise Santa Claus, have both made a list and checked it twice," Petit Four continued, puffing his slight chest out with pride. "It's flawless. My Valentines this year are second to none."
The treat continued glaring.
"HERE, I'll show you," Petit Four pressed, fumbling for his list and unfurling it before his marshmallow disapprover. "Go ahead and find someone I was missing. Find it! I dare you. I have Miss Hidden Hearts, Mr. PARTY, that creepy Friend-Ship, Nice Catch, Morning G........." The colt paused suddenly, his smile evaporating and his eyes growing wide. He grabbed his list, smoothing it out with his hooves, his eyes searching desperately for two specific names. Unable to find them, he gaped at the marshmallow treat, which now seemed smug in its tiredness. "-- my MOTHERS! Sweet, beautiful, kind, wonderful -- how could I -- the most important -- the -- oh -- how could I have-- TO THE KITCHEN!"
And snatching his marshmallow friend -- which lost a chocolate eye from the swiftness of his motion -- Petit Four went sailing out of his room.
"This cannot be happening," Petit Four gasped, setting his white fluff companion down on the kitchen counter, next to the clock that now read 11:54 on its face. He dashed around the kitchen, amassing pots, pans, and piping bags in a precarious tower. "Six minutes to the greatest day of the year, and I haven't even started a present for the sweetest, most upstanding, best-smelling --" He bit off the rest of his sentence as he put his tower on the kitchen counter, narrowly missing his marshmallow friend. "But it's not the time for that now. Now is the time for action.
He worked hurriedly but precisely, melting chocolate, whipping cream, trimming cakes and then finally setting his creation in the freezer. Petit Four huffed with the effort, ignoring the ticking of the clock which showed him midnight had long come and gone. He wiped his forehead with a chocolate-splattered hoof, pink fondant all over his earnest face. It was a mess! He was a mess, the kitchen was a mess, the dishes were a mess – even his marshmallow friend was dotted with pink -- and he loathed messes. But he loved his mothers more, and the sweet little petit fours that now sat in the freezer were testament to that. Maybe, just maybe, they would be good enough to make his mothers forgive the mess he’d left in his wake? He was so tired, and he had so many Valentines to deliver…
Petit Four looked over at his one-eyed, smudged, half-squished marshmallow companion. It eyed him silently back, still grumpy.
“I know, I know,” he sighed, putting the dishes into the sink and starting to clean.
Newbie: N-no... u___u;
Ruriska
Invisible Dabbler
StarieMichie
Unicorn
Syrcaid
Garbage Werewolf
26,375 Points
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StarieMichie
Unicorn