((MODS: Oh dear, we hope this doesn’t mean our blog revival is actually an… ex-parrot.))
((Mods: It’s been a few weeks since the previous installment in our comic-book caper but we never aim to disappoint. More to come!))
“Miaow”
((Mods: a little teaser image to show we haven’t been slacking off. We’re just trying to pull out all the stops on what should hopefully be a nice winter warmer before we get stuck back into the story proper.))
STORY POST!
((Hey everyone! While our mods are having a break, why don’t you enjoy a little something we prepared earlier and have had a little trouble fitting into the narrative a wee bit. What follows is a little short story inspired by this exchange between one of our mods: Hazelhooves and the wonderful Technomod. It features their OC’s: Mr. Teabiscuits: Head librarian of Canterlot Library, along with his assistant, Mumblehush as they encounter a patron who takes ‘travel literature’ to a whole new level. Enjoy.))
Britannia and the Overdue Library Book.
It was fifteen days later and all was quiet in the Great Library of Canterlot. Ponies of all trots of life roved among the high bookshelves and reading desks; whole new worlds just a few pages away from enquiring minds. Only the lightest hoof-steps and the occasional thump of a rubber stamp broke the silence of this bastion of learning.
It wasn’t to last.
A disquieting hum started to grow in volume, echoing among the high arches and causing the window-panes to rattle in the Library’s great glass dome. Disturbed patrons glanced up as a shadow began to blot the skylights: the immense canopy of a Royal Air Flotilla dirigible as it made its ponderous way over the centuries-old building.
In short time the front doors swung open admitting the armour-clad figure of a unicorn Guardsmare, her white travel cloak stained with dust and grime. Her single-horned golden battle-helm was spattered with a sickly green ichor; a grisly contrast to the vivid blood-red of the horse-hair crest that stuck up like the hackles of an angry cat.
With nary a glance at any gawking onlookers she strode up to the front desk, steel shoes ringing like bells on the floor-tiles and red tail trailing behind like a banner. She moved with the purposeful bearing of a pony who has come to expect everyone around her to jump to attention the moment she enters a room: something the tall young stallion at the returns desk was more than willing to oblige.
Displaying a surprising level of grace for one so built, the gangly-limbed assistant librarian leapt over the counter and weaved his way through the crowd of ponies who’d begun to assemble in the library’s atrium; drawn from their private study by the figure who had dared disturb the sanctity of this temple to the written word.
“Um… Good afternoon, Off…Officer,” he stuttered slightly, barely audible over the rumble of the airship engines. His voice, already naturally quiet, was far more used to the strictly maintained silence of the shelves.
The uniformed mare cast a swift assessing glance up toward the towering cream-coated stallion. Framed by her helmet’s visor and cheek-guards, her blue eyes sparkled like a pair of icy pools fringed with heavy lashes.
“Ah,” she said, the corners of her mouth quirking into an easy smile before she continued: a florid flurry of foreign syllables rolling off her tongue.
The librarian blinked in bemusement.
“Uh… I’m sorry I d…don’t understand,” he said sheepishly. The mare’s smile dropped.
“Oh. My apologies,” she said, now very much in the clipped cadence of the Canterlot upper-crust. I suppose I’m rather more rusty with my Araby than I supposed.”
The stallion felt his cheeks grow hot. It was obvious to all who could recognise it that the long-limbed youth’s ancestry didn’t originate from the lush fields of Equestria. The fact that he towered head and shoulders above most ponies coupled with the absence of a cutie-mark very firmly confirmed his Saddle Arabian origins; he just wished it wasn’t the first thing ponies noticed.
“I… uh… don’t speak Araby,” he said plainly.
To the mare’s credit, she also seemed to be as embarrassed by the whole exchange as he was.
“Ah, “ she said before attempting a disarming laugh and a reassuring smile. “Well at least we’re both in the right place to learn, hm?”
“Yes… um,” the horse said, swishing his black tail with discomfort. “Is there anything I can do to help you, M… Ma’am?”
The Guardsmare gave him another appraising look.
“Possibly,” she said. “Though, as it happens, I rather think that I may be here to help you, mister…?”
“M…Mumblehush,” the stallion supplied. The mare’s brow furrowed.
“Beg pardon?” she said before her eyes widened a little in realisation.
“Oh!… Oh of course. Forgive me,” she whispered before touching a hoof to the golden brooch that fastened her cape, causing the object to glow with a magical aura. “Skipper,” she said into the comms device, “Would you kill the engines please at your safest convenience? We are above a library, after all.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Britannia,” a voice replied and the dull hum that echoed through the atrium steadily began to recede.
Before Mumbles had chance to point out that, although appreciated, the noise reduction wasn’t quite what he meant, an altogether different sound pricked his ears: a faint swish, swish, swish. It was a sound he’d developed a very refined sense for.
A small, olive-green stallion with snowy hair and a regal air emerged from between the legs of the sparse crowd of ponies who had gathered around the new-comer; his wispy fetlocks brushing over the enormous bronze floor-medallion beneath their hooves.
With the presence and self-conscious dignity of an empress in her own domain, he approached the Captain of the Expeditionary Force, adjusting his tweed coat with a shimmy before casting the taller mare a perusing glance through the gold-rimmed pince-nez that perched delicately on his tip-tilted muzzle.
“Ah. Delighted to see you again, Mr. Teabiscuits,” Britannia said as she pulled a rather travel-worn letter from the recesses of her cloak. “My apologies to you, I appear to have missed my deadline somewhat. We were rather more indisposed than I anticipated. Blasted tailwinds off the Friesian Gulf, you see.”
“Mm,” the elderly stallion articulated, eyes half-lidded with the demeanor of one quietly judging, determining value by one wasted moment at a time.
“In any case,” the mare continued as she telekinetically opened her saddlebag. “I have your book safe and… well, somewhat sound.”
A chorus of gasps escaped the surrounding ponies as Britannia presented the long-lost tome to the head librarian; what was once a book was now merely a bundle of tattered parchment and hide. Added to the horror of this spectacle there appeared to be the remains of a bandage-clad hand hanging from it, feline claws dug into the binding.
The guardsmare frowned and gave the former piece of literature a shake causing the mummified limb to clatter to the floor in a cloud of dust and page fragments. Teabiscuits flinched as if jabbed in the side as he took in the full tragedy of the sad little bundle before him.
"I’m afraid to say it’s been a little… mis-handled,” the noble-mare said with a plaintive smile.
Quickly recomposing himself, the elderly stallion looked up at Her Ladyship, a bubbling irritation growing under the surface and leaking in little huffs as his eyes narrowed.
“Mishandled.” He spoke at last, lips popping.
He looked away, then back to her as if unable to take the information given to him: that this book was… somehow accidentally torn to shreds and mangled beyond belief.
“Miss, Britannia,” he said in a terse tone well entrenched in the same Canterlot Elite as the uniformed mare. “Do you know what this library was founded to do?”
He paused, and then answered himself.
“This library, this institution, was founded upon preserving and imparting the knowledge of these tomes to future generations. We cannot do this if there are no tomes left. Or our priceless, one of a kind books are returned to us… ‘mishandled’.”
His nostrils whistled as he took a deep breath, tentatively sidestepping the mummified museum-fodder at his hooves before approaching her. His expression was as calm as a spring day but with eyes as cold as snow. His last word dripped with poison,
“… You adventuresome lot are all the same.”
He turned, trotting off with purposeful steps. “Expect your bill in a fortnight for the late fee and the repair bills, if this book may even be saved. Mumbles, please take… what’s left, to the preservationists.”
Mumblehush let out a quiet sigh and turned to the disgraced mare. To the stallion’s surprise, however, Lady Britannia appeared to be quite unconcerned by the elderly bibliophile’s dressing-down. Despite her fine-white coat and lofty bearing, a youth spent at the receiving end of the Royal Guard’s finest Drill Sergeants and a respectful number of equally intimidating nannies had given the Guard Captain a skin as tough as elephant-hide.
“Oh there’ll be no need for that, Mr. Teabiscuits,” she said with a smile on her sand-smeared features. “As it happens I may just have some… adequate compensation.”
She turned her head toward the library entrance as a small but sturdy stallion in an ill-kept R.E.E.F uniform trotted in bearing a strongbox on his back. To onlookers the stocky little guardspony appeared to be in even worse a state than his CO… until they realised that was possibly his standard state of being. He heaved the box onto the floor with a tile-cracking thump before wiping his bespectacled face with a greasy shirt-sleeve.
“Bloimey, Cap’n. Who’d’ve fort paper’d be so ‘eavy,” he said in a Trottingham accent so thick you could use it to grease wagon axles.
“The weight of knowledge, Buckler,” Britannia said as her rather odorous orderly began to untie the cords that bound the box together.
Mr. Teabiscuits stopped, not yet turning around. He looked forward, as if even considering whether or not to turn around, but finally let curiosity get the better of him. He glanced sidelong to Britannia with a highly suspicious look as his little hooves trotted quickly back to her. She returned the gaze with an apologetic look.
“Once again I am most terribly sorry about what happened to the book,” she said. “There was the small business of a crypt and a curse and I was rather limited in what I had close-to-hoof.”
As if to illustrate that point she levitated the gruesome mummified paw off the floor and returned it to her saddle-bag.
“Oddly enough though,” she continued, “such carelessness on my part quite possibly saved my life, this time.”
She turned to the strongbox as Private Buckler unfastened the final rope.
“Thankfully the variety of reanimated corpses in this instance happened to be just as concerned about the welfare of the printed word as you are,” she said over her shoulder and gave the elderly pony what could almost be perceived to be a ‘Come-hither’-look. “After all, you wouldn’t have a ‘Lost Ancient Library’ without some ‘Lost Ancient Librarians.”
She lifted the chest-lid. Clustered within it, soft and delicate like a flock of sleeping doves, were a dusty multitude of papyrus scrolls.
Mr. Teabiscuits gulped, corners of his lips drawing downward as his jaw tensed. He took a few delicate steps toward the box, eyes just a hair wider as he took in such a… beautiful sight. When he finally realized he was gawking a bit, he cleared his throat, turning to Britannia with a whirl.
“Mm-hm. … While… the loss of a single book is nearly inequitable,” he said in a fluster. “The addition of these scrolls is taken with gratitude.” He paused, gathering his words. “And, I suppose, relieves you of your debt.” He gave a great sigh, as if this were a great burden to tell her.
“Do not misconstrue me though,” he said, recomposing himself by giving her a chiding look. “These scrolls are an acceptable substitute, but they cannot replace the book. Please, do try to be more careful with irreplaceable items in the future,” He paused. “Captain Britannia.”
In a somewhat lighter tone, he added, “I’ve had quite enough of adventurers turning my historical tomes section into an historical scraps section. I’m still missing a few from the last fellow to take them out.”
Britannia gave a subdued little smile. The memory of a particularly well-preserved old tomb-raider using science text-books to light a campfire was still fresh in her mind.
“Well, I promise you I shall endeavour to make up for the shortcomings of my peers, sir,” she said as she tenderly passed the poor remnants of the Catalogue over to Mumbles.
The younger librarian gaped as he cradled the book against his chest with a hoof, unsure whether to be more surprised at this fiery-maned lady and her amazing cargo or at the mere fact that his employer and guardian had actually waived a late fee,
“Though I wouldn’t mourn your tome’s passing too hard,” Britannia continued as she bobbed her head down to Teabiscuit’s level. “As thorough as the author had tried to be, it would be fair to say that their estimate of the Ancient Library’s contents was a little pessimistic.”
The younger mare gently steered the elderly gentlecolt’s eyes towards the entrance. “I do hope you have facilities at your disposal to translate Sphinx Hieroglyphs.”
It might have taken a pony well-skilled in the talent of reading body language to notice; but as the doors opened and in marched the vanguard of a seemingly endless line of strongly-built uniformed stallions, bearing upon their muscled haunches box upon box of knowledge thought long lost to the sands of time; if there was such a thing as Heaven in Equestria, Mr. Teabiscuits may just have found it.
Summer Sun Celebration MCs & performers:
- Pipsqueak aka TheDumplingz
- MicTheMicrophone
- Twigileia
- HMage
- Addictia
- Icky
- General Mumble
- PrinceWhateverer
- The Living Tombstone
- Lavender Harmony
- Acoustic Brony
Come and see us at SSC 2014!
I’ll be selling the print at BUCK : )
hype hype hype hype hype CHOO CHOO ALL ABOARD THE HYPE TRAIN
A reblog to promote the Summer Sun Celebration. BUCK’s premiere pony concert which will be taking place at 7pm Tonight, Friday 22nd August until 1AM.
Tickets are still available to those able to get into Manchester and it is certain to be a fantastic night, featuring some of the stand-out talents within the brony musical community.
Britannia: “Well everyone, we’re all out of time for answering your questions as BUCK is but one day away!
We’re sorry we didn’t get around to answering everybody’s questions, but just to round things off (and answer some frequently asked questions), here is a reminder of where you can find all of the info you could possibly want about BUCK!
Take care and have a wonderful weekend!”
What events are happening on the day?
FInd out here: www.buckon.org/events
What big names are attending the convention?
Find out here: www.buckcon.org/guests
Where can I pick up some sweet BUCK-related swag?
Head over here: shop.buckcon.org
How can I get to BUCK?
Find out here: http://buckcon.org/travel
What about places to stay?
Got you covered. http://buckcon.org/accommodation
What about rules and regulations?
Right here: http://buckcon.org/smallprint
Where can I get a ticket!?
Right here! www.buckcon.org/tickets - but you’d best be quick!
“That would depend on what kind of reasons…
Oh, go on, then. It’s out in the open now anyway.
This photo was taken during the "Last Post Pub Crawl”: a Royal Guard Academy tradition for all officer cadets about to graduate. It’s one last chance at a little bit of anarchic indulgence before you pledge yourself entirely to Crown and Country for the remainder of your career.
All piffle, of course. I’ve had some pretty wild nights out since then and I’d like to hope I still have some more regardless of my duty to keep the peace. But it’s traditional and symbolic and like most of these things just an excuse to have a good time… so long as one doesn’t take it too far.
Though it’d be a pretty poor class of cadets who doesn’t start some kind of trouble when it’s their turn to keep the older generations on the alert. What goes around comes around, you see, and your last night of fun takes on a whole different perspective one year later when it’s you chasing down some young cadets for putting traffic cones on the heads of all the statues in the Canterlot Statue Garden or filling the fountains with bubble bath… Still, I’d never take it away from them. It’s important to have these little indulgences when the rest of your life is going to be dedicated to the service and protection of others.
So, yes. Here’s me in the outfit my friends Fencing Foil, Climbing Ivy, Green Jacket and…*sigh* and Silver Lining picked out for me. Harmony knows where the design came from. It’s actually a rather spooky coincidence come to think of it now bearing in mind what my interactions with your dimension have brought to light… very spooky indeed.
I was a fair few funny-named-cocktails along by this point… can’t even recall the song I was rocking out to… Something about a “Magic Regime”? I’ll have to look into it . I do remember the punch-up we had with the Wonderbolt Cadets that happened shortly after, though… and running hell-for-leather through Canterlot… and puking into that fountain in Hippocampia Square…
Yes, that truly was a most special night.“
-Britannia
((Mods: Thank you to Captain Hoers, mod of Firestarter Spitfire for depicting Brit in one of her less dignified moments))
Brit: “So I hope this has been a useful rundown of the roles and responsibilities of the people who will help make BUCK 2014 possible”
Brit: You can find more information on the different kinds of tickets available at the BUCK website! Just follow the link below!
Brit: “That’s right, all of the swag. You’ll be utterly staggered by the amount of swag you can bag at this year’s BUCK.”
One of the best things about BUCK 2014 being at Manchester Central is that we’ve got so much more space – that means all of this merch to choose from! In today’s selection we’ve got everything from Collectable Card Games to Leather book bindings and keyrings!
BUCK Merch Table
http://shop.buckcon.org/collections/all
Firstly there’s the collection of BUCK-related goodies that can be pre-ordered online at the BUCK shop before the con!
Mare Play UK
www.mareplay.co.uk
Official licensed MLP merchandise
“BUCK’s official sponsor and supplier of official pony merch!
Mare Play UK is the frontrunner in providing the community with the best MLP merchandise in the UK.
Leading the negotiations to get new products – such as the well-received trading cards – into the UK, we strive to help the community get hold of the merchandise that matters to you.”
Buck: Legacy
www.buckcardgame.com/
The Pony Fantasy Dungeon Crawling RPG Card Game
“Urban Meadows is back for a third year, bringing a new line of Buck: Legacy card game products and accessories.
Buck: Legacy is a fantasy pony dungeon exploring card game for 2-6 players, with over 250+ gorgeously illustrated by all your favourite artists.
Try the game for yourself at the Buck: Legacy panel!”
Pegasus Embroidery UK
www.gothybeans.deviantart.com
Embroidered clothing, patches, plushes & more
“From shirts to hoodies, scarves, badges and pocket squares, Pegasus Embroidery aim to help fellow bronies clothe themselves and accessories fabulously.”
Crochet is Magic!
https://www.etsy.com/ie/shop/AoifeConvery
Varied crochet clothing
“All sorts of crochet items, especially scarfs, gloves, and wristbands inspired and in semblance of our favourite ponies! The Mane Six, the Princesses and a whole bunch of other ponies will be available as crocheted clothing.”
InLucidReverie
http://inlucidreverie.deviantart.com/
Physical pen and pencil sketch commissions of OCs
“Known primarily as an artist within the Fallout: Equestria fandom, InLucidReverie will be selling art prints based on the story itself with the blessing of the author. Whether a fan or not, make sure to check the stall out, as he’s willing to draw whatever you want then and there!”
Creepy’s Craft’n Art Corner
http://creepyriver.deviantart.com/
Buttons, sculptures and leathercraft goods
“Buttons are magic and so are the bronies from Slovakia and Czech Republic who designed them! Come – take a look! Its badgalanche! Stay a while and browse! But wait, there is more! Sculptures, necklaces, bracelets, belts, book covers – the list goes on! Buckle up ponies, it’s dealtime!”
The Alicorn Mafia
“Five Pony artists from the world of tumblr – Dennybutt, AlSkylark,Tracymod, Ayasha & BrainedBySaucepans – gathered together for nefarious (and artistic) purposes. We will be selling art prints and badges and will we be taking sketch commissions!”
As you may know, the authors of Ask Britannia, Firestarter Spitfire, Ask Movie Slate and Ask Robot Octavia, will be holding a panel at BUCK, where we will be going over what makes a good tumblr ask blog and the ins and outs of running one.
And we need your help!
We want to know what burning questions you have about running an ask pony blog, and what you would really love to know, so what we need you for is this:
Please send us your questions! Just send them in via the Ask button – and please TAG them, to make it easier to filter them out, i.e. starting them with BUCK QUESTION. So for example BUCK QUESTION: Who is best pony?
Questions need to be in by Monday! We will then collate the questions and put together some great answers for you to hear at BUCK.
Brit: “After all, they are a rather colourful collection of characters.”
To find more about Heather Breckel, Dave Polsky, GM Berrow and the rest of our our SPECIAL GUESTS at this year’s BUCK 2014 visit here.
((Mods: And this is what we shall leave you to ponder, dear readers.
Stay tuned for incoming content over the next few weeks as we get ourselves pumped up for the Big Event.))
