Wanderer D 5,510 followers · 65 stories

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  • 117 weeks
    SA: The Last Round

    "So, what do you think, Corejo?" Wanderer D asked, politely showing off the stack of papers in his claw.

    The burlap sack with the printed (in color!) face of Corejo remained silent.

    "I see, yes, yes!" Wanderer D cackled. "Ahahaha! Yes! I agree! This story should do fine! So, who's reviewing it? RT?"

    The sack that had the picture of RTStephens on it tilted just enough for a single potato to roll onto the table.

    "And we have two! Alright, team, I expect you all to figure out who's doing the next one, okay? Let's not keep the readers waiting!" He glanced expectantly at the several sacks with pictures around him. "Alright! Dismissed."

    "Sir?"

    "Ah, intern. Is that my coffee?" Wanderer D took the proffered mug and downed the contents in one go. "Excellent! No time to rest! We have to edit what the guys just handed to me."

    Read More

    110 comments · 8,879 views
  • 138 weeks
    SA: Round 186

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    The Dodge Junction train ramp was not where Floydien expected to be part of a reunion.

    He especially didn’t expect it to happen four times in a row.

    “Wait, Winter? What are you doing here?”

    Winter’s eyebrows raised. “On Summer vacation. What about you?”

    “Uh, same.”

    “Guys!”

    The two Angels looked to where the voice came from. Cynewulf came running up to them, a wide brimmed sunhat and sunglasses adorning her head. “Fancy meeting you two here!”

    Floydien scratched his head. “Same. Are you on vacation too?”

    “Yep! Had a blast down on the Horseshoe Bay coast.”

    “Well, ain’t this something!”

    All turned to the fourth voice. Knight strode up, his body decked out in fishing gear, complete with a fishing pole balanced over his shoulder. “Haven’t seen so many of us in one spot since vacation started.”

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    12 comments · 4,668 views
  • 153 weeks
    SA: Round 185

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    Winter and Knight stared out at the bleak townscape. All around them, the fires raged unchecked as Ponyville's former occupants stumbled mindlessly about, their undead faces ravaged by rot and decay as they moaned for sustenance. Knight turned to Winter.

    "Ready to go?"

    Winter nodded and shifted a backpack. "Got everything with me. I guess it's now or never."

    Knight gave a wry smile. "That's the spirit. You do have your reviews, right?"

    "Of course!" he said, patting his chest. "Right here."

    Knight nodded and said, "Alright, here's the plan: we stick to the shadows as much as possible. From what I can tell, their eyesight isn't that good, but their sense of smell is excellent. We just have to stay upwind."

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    10 comments · 4,282 views
  • 160 weeks
    SA: Round 184

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    “I see. Alright, I’ll let him know.”

    Intern twisted a dial on the small mechanical piece attached to his ear, retracting a blue, see-through visor from across his face. He turned to Floydien, crossing his arms. “It’s confirmed. Generation 5 is on its way. Season 2 of Pony Life is just around the corner. And the series finale of Equestria Girls was scrapped for a holiday special.”

    Floydien lifted an eyebrow. “And, what does that mean for us?”

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    10 comments · 4,441 views
  • 164 weeks
    SA: Round 183

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    Over their heads the flak guns peppered the sky. The planes roared and sputtered. The clouds were dark, heavy with the child that was war. It was all noise.


    Cynewulf looked around the bend. “You know, I’ve been reading old fics. Remember Arrow 18?”


    Floydien slipped—a Floydien slipped—One Floydien came through the fractured time in the lower levels of the Sprawling Complex. “Uh, human in Equestria?”


    “Yeah. You know, we were probably too mean about those.”


    “They were terrible. I mean some of them. I guess a lot of everything is terrible.”


    “Well, yes. But anyway, I was reading it, and it occurred to me that what I liked about it was that it felt optimistic in the way that Star Trek was optimistic. It felt naive, but in a way one wanted to emulate. To regress back into it.”


    “Uh, that sounds nice?”

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    7 comments · 5,942 views
  • 169 weeks
    SA: Round 182

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    “Okay, Winter, hit it!”

    Winter pulled a lever that ignited a rocket placed underneath the communal Christmas Tree. The tree blasted through a cylindrical hole and out into the skies beyond. It only took seconds for the tree to become a tiny red dot against the blue sky.

    Winter stepped away from the control panel and down to where Intern was standing behind a fifty-five millimeter thick glass wall. “We could have just picked up the base and tossed it in the garbage bin outside, you know.”

    Intern scoffed. “Yeah, we could, or we can go over the top in a comedic and entertaining manner that leads into our reviews.”

    “You’re getting all meta, now.”

    “Exactly! On to the reviews!”

    ROUND 182

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    6 comments · 7,967 views
  • 174 weeks
    SA: Round 181

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    For the first time in the year that he worked there, FanficFan finally experienced quiet in the Seattle’s Angels Compound. All the other reviewers had gone home for the holidays, leaving him and Intern to submit the last round of reviews of the year. However, with Intern off on an errand, FanficFan was left alone.

    With stories ready to be read by his partner, all the reviewer could really do was wander around the empty building, taking in all the holiday decorations left behind from the Office Christmas Party a few days prior, like office space holiday knick-knacks, lights strown about the ceiling and wreaths on nearly every door. Plus, there was some leftover cookies and egg nog, so that was nice. 

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    8 comments · 6,381 views
  • 178 weeks
    SA: Round 180

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    Cynewulf lay in a grassy field. This was a curious occurrence, as the Seattle Angel’s Dyson Sphere-esque compound basement labyrinth did not usually have grass. 


    But like she had many times before, she’d been teleported here, and whether or not the sky above her was real or not, she didn’t mind. The grass was nice, and the wind was nice, and whatever happened happened.
    f

    There was a great crash and Corejo stumbled into the grass to her right.

    “Oh, god, are we out? How did—”

    “No clue. I suspect that it’ll just take us back anyhow. Did you have the reviews? The machine came for me a few days ago, so I’ve got mine.”


    “I… Uh, I was late. I mean, we both are, unless you’ve been here for days.”

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    9 comments · 8,140 views
  • 182 weeks
    SA: Round 179

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    Winter peered cautiously out the corner of the broken window, surveying the damage outside. He turned to his companion.

    "Looks like we're trapped in here," he said quietly.

    Intern grunted and adjusted the bandage on his arm. "Nothing we haven't gone through before." He looked up at Winter. "Got your reviews?"

    Winter nodded and patted his chest pocket. "Right here, where they're safe." He turned and looked once more out the window. "Now, it's simply a matter of getting through all those ponies." Winter shuddered as he took in the horrors before him.

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    10 comments · 5,239 views
  • 185 weeks
    SA: Round 178

    Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


    Matthew stumbled through the basement, crouching low to avoid all the pipes on the ceiling. Floydien hadn’t told him much, just that it was extremely important, had nothing to do with Intern, and to take the last fire door on the left.

    After what seemed like eternity in an instant, Matthew finally came to said fire door, damp with sweat and condensation. He carefully undid the latch and opened it with one arm raised just in case of any traps. Only to be greeted with the sounds of maniacal but joyous laughter as he spotted Floydien sitting in the center of the room surrounded by thousands of stacks of papers.

    “I found it!” Floydien said, tossing a stapled pack of papers to Matthew. “I finally found the answer. The answer to all of our questions. To our very existence!”

    Read More

    4 comments · 4,542 views
Jul
9th
2017

Story Reviews » SA Reviews #108 · 2:25am Jul 9th, 2017

Seattle's Angels is a group that promotes good stories with low views. You can find us here.


Archonix strolled through the second floor hallway of the Seattle’s Angels Secret Underground Base and Treefort.  He licked his thumb as he leafed through a stack of papers, humming Winter Wrap Up in a most Scottish manner.  Without looking up from his work, he stopped and rapped his knuckles on Corejo’s bedroom door.

“Hey, Core, you in there?  We need your reviews.”  No answer.  Archonix looked up at the dozens of Luna pictures taped haphazardly to the door.  ‘No Celestias allowed!’ read a small poster board stuck in the middle in glued macaroni and glitter.  The light of a computer monitor escaped through the crack beneath the door.  “Core?”

Archonix put an ear to the door.  There was a heavy tip-tapping noise, what he imagined a dozen ballerina gorillas in steel-toed boots sounded like.  He turned the knob and peeked inside.

Corejo sat in the electric-blue glow of his computer screen, eyes manic as he loomed over the keyboard, mashing away at the keys.  He turned around, a trail of drool down to his chin.

“Arch!” he said, throwing his hands in the air.  “Perfect timing!  I need you to stop time for, like, two seconds!”  He swung around and continued punching his keyboard like it owed him money.

Archonix pursed his lips.  “You know, even if I could, I don’t think that would be a good idea.  We need to get our reviews out… I take it that’s what this is about?”

Corejo threw his hands in the air before resuming.  “There’s no time!  Must finish!  Before Ferret finds out!”

Archonix blinked.  Slowly, he stepped backwards out of Corejo’s room.  “I’ll come up with something, then.”

He turned for the far end of the hallway and continued leafing through his reviews.

ROUND 108


The Morning Courts are one of Equestria's oldest and most hallowed traditions; beginning at Sun's rise upon the summer solstice. It is a celebration that would have once dwarfed the Galloping Gala; a week long fete that the princesses open, reaffirming to all of Equestria that their promise of safety and prosperity will never be forgotten. It is during this grand celebration that the plebeians and commons have a chance to petition the diarchs of Equestria. Everyone and everyone, from great to small.

What could go wrong?


The first surprising thing about this particular fic isn't that it's a human story without any humans, or that it is truly the tragic tale of an unsung genius plan to protect Equestria from the might of a fictional race, but instead that it has a wonderfully deep idea. So wonderfully deep, in fact, that it almost isn't visible.

This is a comedy, there is no doubt about it; a farce very much in the vein of Oscar Wilde. It uses that to explore chunks of Equestrian lore that are not typically expanded on in fanfic, or are expanded on so poorly that it might be better if the authors hadn't bothered. Celestia's court gets the royal treatment here, as do the secondary protagonists - Cadance, Shining Armor, Blueblood and Twilight Sparkle - each of whom has their own part to play on this particular stage.

If you're a fan of comedic dialogue and lots of snark, you'll be right at home with this one.

Gotta love reading an over-the-top silly fic every once in a while.

I think what I like most about this one is all the asides the main characters have among themselves, much the way they always whisper/talk to each other in the show while the someone they’re talking about stands a few feet away and somehow doesn’t pick up on anything.  It draws out the cartooniness of the piece, not to mention each pony playing up an extreme of their canon personality.

Also there’s humans.  But not really.  It all ties into the silliness of the piece and how it escalates to the peak of silliness and bad acting. ‘What could go wrong?’ indeed.

If you’re averse to fat jokes or stories lacking a solid editing pass you might want to pass it up, but otherwise, you’re in for a treat.


With a heavy heart and an empty journal, Rarity heads north.


From the start, this story is deceptive; a conniving little thing, tricking you into thinking it's about Rarity abandoning her life to find an old lover. Or that's how it felt to me at any rate.

It isn't, but at the same time it treads a similar path. We follow Rarity on a journey to the far north, through beautifully explored vistas and landscapes, the character of which tracks the increasingly desperate lengths to which Rarity forces herself as time goes by. I could rant for hours about that alone before even getting to the thickly realised characters, the conversations, the details, the way everything combines to animate and deepen Rarity's emotional and mental state as she moves closer to her final destination.

For hours I could go on, but I won't. This is a story that deserves to be read blind, or as blind as it can be I suppose.

A good story isn't measured by how long it is, but by how long it stays with you.

That’s always been my motto here on Fimfic.  You can see it on my profile if you bother looking.  It’s been there since the day we got the ability to write those little bio snippet things, and I haven’t wavered from that stance since.

That said, this story’s gonna stick with me for a while.

Sundowner Season has a slower start, but as the story unfolds, the drama of the piece really sets in.  How far are you willing to go for the mare you loved?  That thing you never really had, yet feels so much a part of you?  To get away from the ties that keep you in one place against your will?  This story asks many questions at different key points and to different extremes.

Many a time, I got lost in the descriptions—the locales, Rarity’s thoughts, the ponies around her.  This story is heavy in all the right ways, with a perfect pacing that never stumbles or pulls you along too quickly.  Rarity’s diary comes to mind here.

Diaries in stories like this usually become very ham-fisted plot devices or methods of exposition, but here that’s not the case.  Rarity’s mindset takes the helm throughout this rollercoaster of a story, and it’s all the better for it.  This story will move you.


It has been over seven hundred years since the banishment of Nightmare Moon. They say time heals all, but some wounds cut too deeply to ever heal the scar. Celestia is reminded of this every night.

Then she finds a book.


Despite the first entry, it's obvious by now that this is The Sad Edition.

I can't really say more than that. This was excellently written, with just enough evocative imagery to draw the reader to the end. A neat little expansion of Celestia's character in the time before Luna's return.

There’s something about reading the written word of another (nevermind the inception-ness of ‘reading a story about a story written by someone’) that gets me.  The ‘left behind’ and/or ‘from beyond the grave’ trope-y-ness of the format lends a sort of mystical aspect that I’ve always been fond of, and Sun’s Torment hits a few solid notes I didn’t expect.

There’s a lot of unspoken story told through atmosphere in this piece.  The derelict room, the somber stroll past the tightly shut door, a book safely hidden away from prying eyes.  It’s all a setup for a glimpse into Luna’s slow but inevitable transformation, as seen through diary entries.

It’s a simple yet poignant story that speaks volumes for what can be done with minimal wordcount.


Yesterday you were born.
Tomorrow, you will die.
When the river of life promises to sweep you away
All you have left is to live for today.


What's this? An immortality blues fic that isn't a constant angst by a pretty Princess about how hard it is to watch people die?

Instead it's a constant angst by Spike. Though no, that isn't remotely true or fair. This feels like the thoughts of a young mind coming to terms with the fact that life goes on, that things will change. That the past and the future and the present are each their own country, forever separated one from the other.

There's a pleasing cadence to this fic, which starts out slow and accelerates towards its end that is, in its own way, filled with a sort of hope for the now. Just like life, if you think about it.

Yesterday you were born.
Tomorrow, you will die.
When the river of life promises to sweep you away
All you have left is to live for today.

First, I have to point out that synopsis, because that’s an amazing synopsis.  Second, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Ruirik at both Bronycon and Everfree Northwest, and I have to say he looks like the kind of guy that would write this sort of slower, contemplative story we have here before us. (He’s also a pretty cool dude with a snazzy hat.)

But that aside, this is very much the kind of story you read after Most Noble, one that brings you back down to earth, if only for a little while, before you find that Next Best Thing.  I’ve said it many times before to various people that I don’t like these sorts of stories, but this one doesn’t quite fit into the category of ‘immortal angsts over their immortality.’

It’s not about living longer than everyone else and having to watch them die.  It’s about how time just keeps going and where Spike is in the midst of it all.  Time has passed.  Time will pass.

It’s a fresh twist on a tired premise, one that shows that, if your execution is impeccable, there’s always something new to say.


“But I was only a couple hours late!” Corejo said.

He sat tied to his computer chair with shoelaces.  His arms free from the elbow down, he waved his hands around in some futile attempt for freedom.

Ferret paced back and forth on his computer desk, paws clasped adorably together behind her back.  She stopped and faced him, one hand on her hip, the other stroking her chin in thought.  “You know what?  You’re right.  That’s a new record for you.  I’ll go easy on you this time.  Red!”

Red Squirrel scurried out from beneath Corejo’s bed and onto the computer desk.  He saluted Ferret with as much adorableness as possible.  “Here, ma’am!”

“Wait,” Corejo said.  He pointed a finger at him, restricted as his arm was.  “What were you doing under my bed?”

Red Squirrel flustered and pulled his paws up to his chest.  He curled his tail around himself, then tapped the tips of his paws together while looking around for something.  “Um, I was, uh… not planting a Sunset Shimmer self insert fanfiction hardcopy to use as evidence against you later?”

He smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

Corejo blinked.  “Oh, then what were you actually doi—”

“Silence, you fool!” Ferret held up a threatening paw as if crushing an invisible apple.  She stood upright, hands clasped behind her back, eyes closed.  She turned and strolled for the exit.  “Red, tickle him until I say stop.”

“Oh, boy!”  Red said.  “I haven’t bathed in weeks!”

“What?” Corejo said.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

It was then that the horror of the moment settled in as Red turned around and fluffed his tail.  Corejo could hardly rear back, teeth clenched, as the floofy death whip waggled in closer and closer to his nose.

The door shut, and the muffled screams faded as Ferret quietly descended the stairs.


Feel free to visit our group for more information and events, and to offer some recommendations for future rounds. See you all next time!

Report Wanderer D · 2,335 views ·
Comments ( 6 )
Kell #1 · Jul 9th, 2017 · · 18 ·

First :p

Kell #2 · Jul 10th, 2017 · · 3 ·

4597542
The look of despair only belonging to someone who wasn't first. How intoxicating:trollestia:

Wanderer D
Moderator

4597633 Claiming "First" post is against the rules, so being cheeky about it is not doing yourself any favors.

4597651
I honestly was not aware of this. My apologies.

Holy stories Batman.

I'm stunned... Thank you! :twilightsmile:

And thank you for keeping up these recommendations!

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