So... You're at the bottom of the page. Below everything relevant and/or interesting.
What. The. Hell. Is. Wrong. With. You.
Fine, we can tack on random ramblings of a person who clearly does not get enough sleep.
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Article I: OC backstory.
That thing that is my avatar picture? Backstory. Nuff' said.
My name is Scribe.
Cutie mark is a... damn, it's hard to twist like this, how does everypony else do it? Fuck it, I'm getting a mirror.
A book and a quill. Fitting, I suppose.
To be quite frank, I have lived in semi-seclusion for the last such and such years. A few letters to friends and family were the mane (hah, punny) connection I had to the rest of the world.
Luckily, in addition to being a writer (Not an author. There's a difference!) I also had some minor talent in scrying spells. Think crystal ball, but less crystal ball and more regular spell.
Now, I love obscurity. Even more so since I am one of few who can see it. So I wrote. And write. The tales of those who aren't sought after by the annals of history, despite their deeds, names or lives. Those few who remain untold, except by my interference.
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Article II: Chaos Eclipsed vs. Scribe vs. Eclipse.
Yes, my personal OC does have a different name from my username. Also, Scribe is not to be confused with Eclipse, the main character of my 'Chaotic Harmony' story. Eclipse is me (Though that is not explicitly stated) as a human turned earth pony with chaos magic who was brought to Equestria. Scribe is a regular unicorn who has lived in Equestria all his life. Their attitudes and personality traits will ultimately be similar, if not the same outright, (Both of them are me!) but they are NOT the same pony.
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Article III: You're still here?
F*ck it. Bring in the thing no one should ever read, ever!
Good God, what have we done?
We've scorched the earth and blocked out the sun
I tried to save what I may,
But now I can only sit and pray.
War has come to our lives.
Pain and destruction, raining like knives.
Useless is foreign aid,
It cannot fulfill the debt to be paid
<><><>
Good god, what have we done?
We've blackened the skies and blocked out the sun.
The horrors we made,the weapons we forged,
Death's hungry scythe, we have gorged.
The ones to save us, they have fled.
With them they took all they led.
How can we right this wrong we made?
To fulfill the debt to be paid?
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Countless have fallen, to countless more.
The earth has shook at its very core.
Skies of ash, seas of flame,
No matter where, its all the same.
From rock and bone, to nuclear fire,
On each other we have released ire.
Good god, may I just say,
This is a debt I do not want to pay.
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Article IV: You have a strange type of mind to still be reading this.
... I like that.
Thanks for the fave on One Heck of a Case!
1919932
I've been around the site for a while and have a looooot of stuff in the 'read it later' pile. As for how I originally got it in there, it probably happened when I was reading the comments on something. If someone has a nice avatar and at least one story, I'll mosey on over and see if it's worth checking out.
More than once have I been scoping out someone I would swear I've never seen before and find that one (or, like, seven) of their stories are already in my read it later.
Thanks for the favorite on "A chance of cider" if I may ask how'd you come across it?
Wow, thanks for all the faves!
Thanks for favoriting A Spell for Lyra!