Pipsqueak Nov 9, 2014 20:14:58 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2014 20:14:58 GMT -6
||| PIPSQUEAK |||
[ Picture by Pashapup at DeviantArt ]
#Age Group ; Foal
#Orientation; Too young to determine
#Gender ; Colt
#Species; Earth Pony
#Cutie Mark ; This Space Intentionally Left Blank
#Powers and Abilities ; The incredible ability to make an entire bowl of pasta disappear in the blink of an eye. Besides that, he's your ordinary earth pony kid.
#Physique ; His name suits him; Pip is a little small for his age, but not frail, and full of vim and vigor!
#Mane and fur color and style ; A soft, tawny brown mane with more fluff than style at this point, and a patchy paint-horse coat, white with brown spots.
#Eye color ; Chestnut brown
#Other appearance details (optional) ; One spot of brown over his left eye in particular looks like an eyepatch, and he is deeply proud of this.
#Personality ;Pipsqueak is, at heart, a deeply curious young colt. Although he’s still very young and hasn’t quite worked out who he is or what his place is, nor does he have the tools to do so, he has a powerful hunger to learn and explore the world around him. However, he’s not had a whole lot of experiences and depends on grown-ups to keep him safe—and his tendency to go off into his own little world can make that a tough gig sometimes.
Nevertheless, Pip tries his best to please others, especially the grown-ups. His family taught him to always be polite and kind, and having an innate sense of empathy, that wasn’t difficult for him to internalize. As a result, adults tend to praise him on his good manners, and that just reinforces it stronger; niceness gets you much further than meanness. He tries to see the best in others and hopes they respond in kind; if they do, he’s a fast friend and as loyal as they come.
On the occasion he does screw up, though, it can really hurt if he doesn’t know how to fix it right away. When he’s down, he mopes and sulks more than he lashes out, with a lot of dragging his feet. Being a kid, he always bounces back sooner or later, though.
He’s got a lot of stories in his head—his parents always read to him a lot, and he learned to read himself fairly young. His penchant for stories of adventure and questing and all manner of larger-than-life things stoked in him a powerful sense of imagination, so that even in his head, he’s a space explorer, a pirate captain, a dungeon crawler whenever the spirit strikes him. Nothing sets his heart soaring higher.
It’s kind of romantic, as are most of his thoughts. Pip’s an idealist at heart, and he wants to believe in all kinds of grand notions about the world. As such, he’s got a tendency to build things up in his head. He’s sure that when he’s old enough to go on a real adventure, it’ll be a proper hero’s journey, just like all the stories. This has lead to a fair few letdowns, but the benefit of being a diehard idealist is that there’s always something else to look forward to—and if all else fails, he can fall back on those stories.
That said, he’s not a complete cuckoolander. (Every pirate’s got to have a proper anchor, after all.) He’s able to discern between serious business and time to play, and while he greatly prefers the latter, he’s not averse to working. His grades hover around the high C’s to high B’s, with the occasional A when he gets into a subject he’s really passionate about.
Culturally speaking, he’s still not used to the comments he gets about his accent, but he’s proud of it. A lot of his home’s traditions are alive in his household, so he doesn’t see living in Ponyville as all that different anymore. Nonetheless, he secretly misses Trottingham with a great piece of his heart, and has already settled on the thought he’s going to go back when he’s old enough, at least to visit.
#History ;Pipsqueak, ever the troublemaker, was born on a train during a cold December night. His parents departed from a Hearth’s Warming family visit out in northern Scoltland; and by the time they arrived home in Trottingham, a day and a half later, Pip’s mum had lost about 8 pounds of weight and gained one squealing bundle of joy. (It was fortunate that there was, in fact, a doctor on board; to this day she tells the story to her family and friends about having to deliver a baby in a cramped coach compartment.)
The only son of a marine biologist and a baker, Pipsqueak had a good upbringing in Trottingham. His family owned a nice-yet-modest country home not far from the ocean, where there was plenty of room to play and explore on the moors and, if he kept his breath quiet, he could hear the sound of waves hitting the rocks as he went to sleep. The climate was cool and blustery, his parents were warm and affectionate, and there was always room to romp among the grass.
As soon as the boy could walk, he would run. For having a little body, there was an awful lot of energy stored up in there, and it made him a bit of a scamp during his toddler years; in trying to climb them, he brought down two grandfather clocks, a bookshelf, a vanity, and the refrigerator, all while somehow being unscathed (if not deeply upset). He mellowed out after this initial spurt, though, and turned his boundless energy to imagination and exploration. Paper hats, imaginary maps and digging in the yard for treasure have been the order of the day ever since.
However, not too long ago, Pip’s mother got a letter that changed things. A paper of hers on the sea beasts of the Shetland Isles had received a good amount of attention in journals and created something of a buzz in certain academic circles—and accordingly, she was invited to sail for the Crown of Equestria and continue her studies under the Royal banner. The only catch was that they would have to move out of Trottingham and closer to the Equestrian Capital.
After a great deal of nighttime conversations and thought, his parents decided to go for the job and move to Ponyville, so they might not raise their son in a place as unfamiliar and unfriendly as Canterlot. So they packed up their home, said their goodbyes, and boarded the boat borne west. Pip’s last memory of Trottingham, thus far, is leaning over the railing of the ship and blowing a toy horn at the departing shores.
Thanks to the help of his mum’s new employer, they didn’t have to worry too much about managing in the new environment. They were able to open a new bakery for his father to run, and it’s no Sugarcane Corner, but it makes for a living; they live on the floor above it, and although it’s smaller and a little noisier than their country home, they’re comfortable. His mother’s work requires her to be away for long stretches of time—usually only appearing back home for the winter—so it’s usually just him and his pop, though the marriage remains happy and steady.
Despite the massive changes, Pip's spirit isn’t so easily daunted; since moving to Ponyville, he’s been determined to tame this new and strange land and forge a place for himself in it. While he’s not too enthused with school, he takes it seriously enough to learn a few things and even make some friends (though he still wonders why they’re so interested in hearing him talk)—and once his first Nightmare Night rolled around, he properly fell in love with the Ponyville life.
There’s still adjusting to do, of course, lessons to learn and a cutie mark to earn. But for the time being? He’s happy just to take things as they come and keep exploring.The Roleplayer's Corner
#Nickname ; Dizzy
#Age ; Twentysomething
#Gender/Preferred Pronouns ; I'm not picky
#How did you find us? ; A sad clown came to my doorstep last night. He handed me a slip of paper, stared into my eyes with a heartbroken look on his face for three minutes, and left without a word. Written on the paper (in invisible ink) was "www.funhasbeendoubled.proboards.com"
#Sample RP ;The sun settled gold on the western horizon, casting the wide open ocean in a glittering purple that wove the sea together with the sky where twilight had begun to creep in at the edges. Captain Pip stood at the forecastle of his ship, the Mossy Patch, gazing out at the endless majesty of the waters before him. He adjusted the side of his cap, feeling the weathered cloth stick to his mane in spots.
”Look at that, Salty,” he said to his first mate, Salty Seadog. ”You ever seen something so pretty? I haven’t. ”
Salty ruffed under his breath. ”Aye, it be pretty... but thar be dangers under those waves. Best not let ye guard down, Cap’n, even under smooth sails.”
He chuckled, smiling. ”You always know just what t–“
A sound tickled his ear. He stopped and turned, looking down the side of the ship. The waves lapped up against the bow harmlessly, parted by the stern, but he had sworn he heard…
”Um, Salty,” he said. ”You hear somethin’ splash? … What did mum say lived in the Sparkling Sea, again?"
His loyal compatriot looked overboard beside him. ”A great many beastly thing lives down there, Cap’n…”
Something below peeked over the surface of the water, slithering against the edge of his vessel. ”And what has big, green tentacles?”
”Ain’t no question ‘bout it,” said Salty, voice quaking. ”That’s the dreaded Kraken.”
No sooner than the words left his lips, a great crack jolted the ship starboard, sweeping Pip and Salty off their legs and sending the crew stumbling. With his ear against the deck, the sound of snapping wood and rushing water filled his head.
”B-battle stations!” he cried, leaping back to his hooves. ”Hands below deck! We’re taking on water! Kraken!”
All at once his loyal crew dove into action. The deck filled with ponies rushing to the hatch to man the cannons and try to stop the ballast from taking on any more water, but Pip had a cold feeling it was already too late—his mum had said all the Kraken needs is a single strike, and the entire ship belongs again to the sea. Salty shook him by the shoulder and jerked him forward, guiding him with firm, steady paws to the port bow.
As he had feared, the bilge was punctured, torn apart by an enormous tentacle. He turned around and began barking orders. ”Ponies! G-get to the port side guns! Fire at will, drive it off! Move! The Kraken is upon us!”
No sooner than he spoke did he begin hearing the blasts as a volley of cannon fire began to fire at the water. He saw a tentacle reach from the water only to be pummeled by iron, and laughed. The Mossy Patch’s crew may be a ragtag bunch, but they wouldn’t go down without a fight!
But just then, another knock rattled the ship—and Pip watched as water and wood flew up from the stern, thrown by a length of green as wide as a train tunnel. The crew shouted. Salty shouted. The deck lurched up beneath him as the ship tilted back.
”PIPSQUEAK,” a deep, unpony voice bellowed from the depths of the ocean.
”H-have at you!” he shouted, running to grab a hold of the foremast. The ship was turning vertical, crew members and ropes all flying past him. Salty clung to his leg, whimpering. ”You may take the Mossy, but you’ll never take our spirits!”
”PIP,” the voice boomed, ”IT’S BEEN TWENTY MINUTES.”
”Wha…?” He looked out to the west. Surely enough, the sun was dipping below now, the sky turning a shade of deep blue. ”…Aww, already?”
”IT’S TIME FOR SUPPER.”
Pipsqueak unplugged the bath and took the newspaper cap off of his head, gathering up his toy ship, rubber sea-monster and stuffed puppy. His father opened the door, smiling.
”Come on, let’s get you dried off,” he said, grabbing a towel from the cupboard. Pip hopped out and squeezed his eyes shut while dad ruffled up his mane and coat. "I made pasta tonight. Cheesy alfredo. Sound good?”
Pip gasped, perking up. ”Does it ever!”
”Heheh. Come on, then,” he said. ”Let’s get some food in that belly, Cap’n.”
Pipsqueak hurriedly put his toys back in the cupboard—but before he rushed out, he stopped to give Salty Seadog one last pat on the head. ”Good job t’night, First Mate. We’ll save the day tomorrow!”
And with that, he trotted out after his father.