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 · 4,440 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!”

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    4 comments · 4,542 views
Apr
16th
2018

Story Reviews » SA Reviews #126 · 1:51am Apr 16th, 2018

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


A loud thump announced the arrival of Novel Idea into the dreaded dungeons of the Seattle’s Angel’s complex. To his surprise, the place had been completely redecorated. To his horror, he instantly recognized the new motif.

Detention?!” he cried. “I’ve never been in detention in my life!”

He turned to glare at the slide he’d been just dropped down. Corejo stood above, looking imperious—or at least trying to, it was Corejo after all.

“You can’t do this to me! I’ll do my freaky time magic thing again!”

“School’s in session. All of it.” Corejo winked—he actually winked—and pulled a level straight out of the Acme Budget Villain Catalogue. The portal closed with a resounding snap.

He grumbled to himself and stomped over to the desk with his name on it and plopped down.

“At least it’s quiet,” said a voice from beside him.

Novel yelped and jumped straight out of his chair, which had the unfortunate side effect of making him bang his knees on the underside of his desk. He then proceeded to tumble over the desk, send it flying over his head and eventually end up in a small prison of furniture.

“There’s only one way out, you know,” said the shadow about him.

Novel tried to push the furniture off, to no avail. “Let me take a wild stab in the dark here… reviews?”

Cynewulf stepped into the light, a pen in one hand, a stack of paper in the other.

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Wait! First I want to know! What are you in for?” Novel demanded.

Her eye twitched. “I’m not sure that’s important.”

Novel frowned and leaned in. “Well, I was just curious, but now I’m doubly so.”

Cyne grumbled and then looked around the room before shrugging.

“I… so, you know this place is pretty big, right? Well, I got… lost. Very lost.”

“You got lost in the inescapable dungeon. Which is inescapable by virtue of its lack of entrance that isn’t, say, a portal.”

She shrugged again, her face flushed. “Look, weirder things have happened. Who did we even hire to do security, anyway? Who puts portals everywhere? Who—“

There was a loud ringing, and then a voice over an unseen intercom. “Ten minutes until dismissal~”

The trapped angels blinked at each other. One started to speak, and then the other, and then both at once.

“Dismissal?” Novel adjusted his glasses and bit his lip.

“Was that Ferret? No, it doesn’t matter. It’s probably something stupid. But let’s hurry up, shall we?”

ROUND 126


There is a ghost haunting the corridors of Ponyville's newest dwelling, the princess's Castle of Friendship. It is a ghost without voice, or hoof, or spectral limb to cast strange shadows upon crystalline walls.

But it's not the ghost of a pony. It's not a person at all.


This is one heck of a unique story. Not only do we see the quiet return of the much-beloved (and much-missed) Golden Oaks Library in a truly unique way, but we also get an entirely unexpected end and a vision into what may lay beyond Equestria.

And I don’t mean physically.

I love the concept of the “spirit” of the Golden Oaks haunting a building as only another building could. We get a sort of “Room of Requirement” vibe, but that’s not doing it justice. It’s far more complicated than that. I’ll admit to being a bit hesitant about the portrayal of one character in particular toward the end, but the sheer, sweeping eerie beauty of this piece is more than enough to overshadow that

I have an opinion, one nursed quietly but openly, but not yet ready to be truly held.

I think all stories come back to loss.

To lose something is to at once progress unwillingly beyond and to regress to a point of uncertainty. We have learned object permanence, and with it gained the prejudice that things must remain if we want them.

This is a story about a lot of things. But they are all loss. I recommend it highly.


A relaxing Saturday afternoon doesn't go quite to plan for Minuette, as she finds herself unexpectedly involved in a quest to track down a young filly's lost imaginary friend.

It's all cool, though. Minuette has got oodles of experience in finding imaginary friends.

Or replacing them.


You may die of cute from this. You’ve been warned!!!

I adore Minuette. This story made me adore her even more. Minuette’s handling of a filly’s woes is so amazing. She never breaks from her constant attempt at cheering up a dear little filly (who ends up befriending everypony’s favorite digging paleontologist filly!) as they hunt for the lost an imaginary friend.

I know, this is a story about putting away “childish things” and moving on with your life. I know it’s about how scary that can be and how a friend can really help that happen. I know it’s about the fact that it’s okay to keep those cherished memories in a safe place.

...but I just wanna see Minuette scrambling around in bushes hunting lost imaginary friends with two adorable little fillies for hours on end. Squee! So cute!

I never had an imaginary friend, but the concept has always delighted me. Lonely child that I was and am, the prospect of companionship of like minds seemed ideal.

But I suppose the downside is that the imaginary friend is imaginary. The reality of your disconnect is still firm. This story is about how and why we connect with others, and about how doing so, even if it makes us nervous or anxious, is rewarding. Sometimes getting older is okay.


As day ends and night begins, there is a brief window of time in which the two royal sisters meet on equal terms, neither one firmly in complete control.

In these times of quiet reflection with one another, their minds and their hearts can truly meet most closely. This is when they see each other the most clearly, here in the trading and in the game they play.


I have to admit, this story caught me off-guard. At first, I was going “Why am I reading a story about Tia and Luna playing actual chess, complete with their actual moves?”

However, the deeper you get into the story, the more you realize just how fitting this is for the Royal Sisters. Especially from Luna’s side. I’ll admit, I almost cried a little at a certain point, seeing how apt an analogy this was for their lives.

I love the concept of Celestia the Chessmaster. She still is in this story, but you get the very strong feeling that Luna is a Chessmaster of her own. But any good chessmaster must know that adaptability is key to any game. Both show it, both in the game and in their thoughts.

And for the record, I’m terrible at chess.

I am mediocre at chess. But like many things I’m not very good at, I cannot help but love it.

There is something intimate about chess. I have gotten a better view of people during a game than I could have gained in a dozen conversations. Luna feels the same, apparently.

The story is a game, but the game is also a story. There’s a bit of that iconic chess game in the Seventh Seal here for me as Celestia and Luna’s daily game proceeds. Except it is Luna that is our lonely knight, playing against history and herself, what was and is, and is to come.

It’s not exciting in a flashy way. It is not a tale of high adventure. It is quiet and it is pensive, and above all our dear writer has their eye trained on some important things. And she who knows when to whisper wins.


There are many things Clover would like to be doing today: Studying the unexplained magic that saved the world last night, discussing the new nation she and her friends are founding, even spending time with those friends, enjoying having ponies around who actually like her for once.

Attending a party is not among those things. Interacting with the unicorn nobles who hate her is definitely not among those things. And giving up the ratty mage's robes she's worn for years as she suffered their judgement is absolutely not on the list.

But Princess Platinum is throwing a party, and Clover will be there and presentable, whether she likes it or not.


Even with the changes the show often makes as to who nature of the founding figures of Equestria were (such as Clover being male), this story is still wonderful and a must read for those of you who love to explore the ancient past of Equestria.

More than anything, this shows a brilliant image of Clover as this very Twilight-esque grumpy, antisocial mage who just wants to get her work done and a Princess who may know way more than she’s letting on.

Bookplayer, as always, shows her mastery in all things and it’s a crime this hasn’t gotten the same fame and notice that so many of her other stories have. So go fix that and read it!

There are a lot of stories about Equestria’s beginnings, and even more as more has been revealed in canon. I’ve not read much bookplayer, but this story convinced me that perhaps I should change that.

The dialogue here is spot on and wonderful. The pace of this story hits a sweet spot between swift and engaging, but never once do I feel like there is a lull or a missed note. A story about both events and people in equal measure, bookplayer manages to draw one into their take on the strangeness of living in the shadow of something new.


As the last strokes were completed, the school bell sounded. A flash of magic washed over the terrifying detention hall. Cyne and Novel barely got their hands away in time before magical flames consumed their work in a flash of brilliant green.

Then, on the chalkboard in the front of the room, a tiny nub of chalk began to write. There was no magical aura around it. Perhaps it wasn’t magic at all… maybe some sort of spirit?

Maybe the last reviewer to not finish on time.

They would never find out.

The bit of chalk scrawled out two words.

Good enough

Then, two interdimensional portals appeared above their heads. Eltrich tendrils snaked down and snatched them up like a mother cat carrying her kittens. They were yanked through the terrifying cracks of reality in which the headquarters of the Seattle’s Angels squatted.

Things gibbered and gnashed horrible teeth at them from all sides.

Then they were flung out into some random hallway. They rolled to a stop mere inches from Ferret’s feet.

Slowly, they looked up.

Ferret grinned. “Class dismissed.”


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 · 2,734 views ·
Comments ( 3 )
Hap

That's a sweep! I'm gonna have to read every one of those.

Just FYI though, the first link is to the chapter, not the story.

I've already read Mitch H's story -- and was impressed, and Ceffyl Dwr's and Wilson's are already on my RiL list. Given the last one is by bookplayer, it's a fair bet I'll be reading the lot at some point. :twilightsmile:

I'm imagining SA's reviewers trapped in a dimension run by Mad Mod.

These stories all sound intriguing, and are probably going to add to my already more-than-bloated backlog of stories to read.

P.S.: Writers shouldn't bemoan imaginary friends. After all, what are any characters but imaginary friends fleshed out in prose?

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