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 Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2009 2:16 pm
Okay, you don't have to start your story anything like that at all.
Want this crazy, possibly murderous and dangerous pony?
He has a pure white body and a deep black mane and tail that are almost always splashed with blood. He has blood red eyes, wears a black collar and has miniature wings on his back.
Write me a story about him.
How did he come to be? What compelled Seraphim to create such a pony? What was he made from? Was he created like this or did he develop into this?
And most importantly, how does he effect the Pony World?
Your story MUST contain this pony's story- including name*, how/where he was created, all of that good stuff. AND it must also hint towards some sort of story line for the world.
You MUST role play him if you win him, if you don't he will be given to somebody else or taken back by me. The reason for this is because he will be an NPC.
The contest will remain open until October 1st.*I reserve the right to change the name if it is not a name. Also, do not name him anything on this list or give him the same name as another pony. I don't want him to have an "ordinary" name, so if you're unsure about a name, ask me. He is special to me. I don't want anything about him to be ordinary, that includes name.
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Posted: Tue Sep 08, 2009 2:57 pm
Ichabod the pony was not always the demonic presence he so appears to be today. No, once upon a time, he was a simple wish from two life-mated ponies that, for whatever reason, were unable to conceive an orb of their own. Seraphim, feeling generous and extra-nice one day, granted them their wish and crafted them an orb that he thought would be his finest. Since he had no other pony parents to choose from, dear Seraphim drew on what he saw around him to create his pseudo-orb. The essence of a great and old tree, perhaps a few stolen mare hairs here and there, water from the brightest babbling brook, and of course, the pure love of both the expectant parents. By the end of it all, a single orb was born and within a week, a tiny pony had graced the world.
Was this when little Ichabod began to change? Good heavens, no. In fact, he was the perfect pony. What with his soft and smooth beige coat, thick and yet tamed brown mane and tail, he was a sight to see. Obedient, calm, well-mannered; all these and more could describe the young thing. His parents treasured him and he adored them right back.
Well, this is boring. Yes, yes it is. You want to know what changed, hmm? I'll tell you.
At the far end of the longest meadow in the world is a darkened patch where the sky turns gray and no light can find it's way through the clouds. This portion of the meadow, simply referred to as the black blanket, is not inhabited by the many ponies of this land. Perhaps something does live there, but it is otherworldly, ungodly, and whatever other horrible term your little mind can dig up. What does this have to do with Ichabod, you ask? Oh, you'll see.
On a clear spring morning, he went out to fetch some berries for his mother. The birds were chirping and the trees seemed to dance with the breeze of cool air that flickered through the area every so often. As he set about his chore, Ichabod eyed the darkened edge of the meadow, flirting with the idea of seeing just what was there. You see, Ichabod was a good son and a fine boy, but he was also highly educated and thought it was silly mish mosh that the townsponies refused to set a hoof on one little dark patch of grass. He inched closer to the area, these thoughts tumbling around his head, and began to reason with himself. His parents had never expressly said, "Ichabod, dear boy, you are forbidden to go on that dark path of the meadow!" So was he really breaking any rules?
As I'm sure you can all guess, his logic won him over, and on that clear spring morning, a little pony made his way to the darkest depths of the world he knew. To this day, no one knows what happened when his four hooves planted themselves firmly in that dark and twisted grass. Perhaps someday he may speak of it, but for now we only know what happened after.
He emerged from the darkness forever changed, a shadow of his former self and the pony you see today. It's unclear if his demeanor changed when he took those first steps into the sunlight, or if it was the proceeding events of returning home and seeing that his parents were seemingly gone with only a few spots of blood under the tree they all slept around. Whatever the reason, he was not the same and most likely never would be again. He was angry, spiteful, and more introverted than he ever once was. Many speculated that he had gone mad and killed his own parents, but to this day he denies such a thing and it is the fastest way to send him spiraling into a bloodthirsty rage.
With his new persona he could no longer stand his old name, and instead became known as Icarus. The bitter irony amused him, the story of the Greek man who attempted to fly away and instead fell to his death made him feel a slight kinship, except that he was not granted the pleasure of moving into the afterlife.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 1:44 pm
"Seraphim created every pony." That is not true. And this one pony is proof of that. His name is Ash. He was created by other ponies. How? He was created by all the sadness, anger, and all the ponies felt. And this is his story.
As said before, Ash was unlike all the other ponies out there. One day, a large group of ponies, starved and hurt and ill alike, gathered in the middle of a huge meadow. At the very front of the meadow, seated on an old tree stump, was a mysterious, dark, cloaked figure. It, for no one knew if the figure was a he or a she, started talking to the group of huddled ponies. It said it could help solve all of their pains, sorrows, and anger for nothing in return. Just the voice of this figure was enough to send the younger ones cowering behind their mothers. It was very hard to describe its voice, but some said it was soft and snakelike, but carried over all the talking in the meadow. Some said you could hear all the creatures that ever existed in its voice. But that wasn't what mattered now. No one ever saw the stranger again after that, which is to be explained later in the story.
So the group of ponies finally reached a unanimous decision. After all, what did they have to loose? For most of them, the could choose between living or natural death. The few who did not take the strange pony's offer left into the woods. Finally, the cloaked pony said, "It has been done." and it galloped away. The mass of ponies didn't notice a thing. They murmured, disappointed, and went back to their normal lives. Or so they thought. Slowly, change was brought upon them. The elderly could do things that they hadn't done in so many long years. The sick and injured who had injuries, injuries that would never have been healed otherwise, both emotionally and physically, never saw illness and pain again and soon they forgot. The sad and angered felt eternally happy.
But out of all this merriment, a great tragedy occurred. Do you remember Ash? Well, apparently, it was impossible to remove all those pains and emotions. So without knowing this, all those ponies had created a monster. Well, not a monster, but that was what others called him.
Ash didn't remember how he was born. All he remembered was the pain he felt. Everyone else's pain. For whenever a pony out there in the world gets hurt, he get hurt. Whenever a pony gets mad, he gets mad too, out of no apparent reason and he cannot control it. Of course, the feeling they feel is not as strong as it would have been, thanks to Ash. All the injuries they feel, he feels too to the exact place they got hurt. One time, two ponies who lived together tried to take him in. Ash was almost happy. Except he could never feel happy. But one day, someone was deeply angered and wanted to kill someone else. Ash, as you know, felt that anger and unconsciously killed the poor ponies. He did not find out until he woke up to the smell of blood, sadly a familiar smell to him. Apparently, the other pony who was mad didn't hurt anyone too bad. But the price was paid. Ash prevented one death to kill another.
Ash didn't want to become this monster he was. He went out into the world to search for answers. When he past by others, they hid away from him, but he didn't go after them in fear of hurting them too. In a way, the mission was a risk. As he passed by more ponies, he couldn't help but worry they would get hurt because he was "selfish" to try to solve his own life. One day, he passed by an elderly pony and asked him the same question that he asked all the other ponies he had asked. The elderly pony told him about the great legend of the meadow and the cloaked pony. Of course, the elder only knew it because he had been there and had witnessed it. But Ash didn't know that. So he set off to look for this cloaked being.
I said this before, and I will say it again for those who forgot. This mysterious cloaked pony was never seen again. A few had heard of the story and looked for this being, looking for eternal happiness and youth. Some said the cloaked pony was Seraphim in disguise, but many disagreed with that. News spread of the suffering Ash and many believed he had something to do with the legend. But again, the cloaked pony was never seen again.
So Ash dedicated his life to helping others. For if he helped others, they wouldn't get hurt or sad or angry. If he helped continue peace around the world, Ash wouldn't get injured. It was kind of selfish, but it was also for the greater good. And all the while, Ash couldn't help but look for the cloaked figure.
((If you want to change the name, feel free XD Also, if you didn't get a theme from that, its helping others is good for you XDD ))
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