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  • 1 week
    SA Reviews #111

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


    “You do the honors.” Ferret’s eyes glittered in the darkness of the ancient laboratory. The ancient portal glowed with unholy violet energy, illuminating only the barest hints of her figure and the shaking person beside her.

    “Me?” Chris protested, stepping back from the portal and glancing at the giant hourglass festooned with twinkling geodes, flashing bulbs and enough copper wire to build a Faraday cage. “I’m not touching that thing! It looks like something Lovecraft and Jules Verne made on a bet! A very drunk bet!”

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    25 comments · 1,095 views
  • 3 weeks
    SA Reviews #104

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


    Methodical fingers fell on the keyboard. Ticks and clacks and tacks echoed through the dreary cubicle halls of the corporate office space. Bleary-eyed and coffee-deprived, Matthew sat in front of the screen with the lethargic determination of the recently dead. The computer monitor, though searingly bright, was comparatively dim to the fluorescent lights that flickered on the ceiling.

    Then Red showed up holding a squirrel-sized newspaper and a human-sized coffee mug, which was full of assorted nuts. He slugged a mouthful down and barely chewed.

    “Ha ha ha!” the squirrel said. “Turns out Pontchartrain really did track mud in the house! I love that comic.”

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    18 comments · 1,247 views
  • 9 weeks
    SA Reviews #109

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


    Matthew stood next to a metal door labeled “The Cool Room”. He had never seen this door before; not surprising since the Seattle’s Angels compound tended to lose and gain random rooms with astonishing frequency. He made a mental note to complain to the guys running the relativity lab to dial it back a bit.

    Pushing back those thoughts for later, Matthew grabbed hold of the handle to the door, turned, and pulled the door open. A rush of cold air blasted him, almost knocking him back. Matthew, now wishing he had brought a coat, braced himself and entered.

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    13 comments · 1,800 views
  • 12 weeks
    SA Reviews #107

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


     
    Briefcase in hand, Chris nervously entered the room.  It was bare except for an imposing desk and a high-backed office chair, the latter with its back to him.  “Um, hello?  I’m here about the interview.  Ah, about becoming a Seattle’s Angels reviewer?”
     
    “So, you’re the new guy, eh?” The voice came from the chair.  Chris watched as it slowly swiveled to face him, revealing a diminutive rodent perched upon it.
     
    “Um, yeah, pleased to meet you.”  Chris held out his hand, a gesture met with an arched eyebrow.  “Right, squirrel, sorry.” He awkwardly brought it back to his side.  “So… you must be RedSquirrel, right?”  The rodent’s other eyebrow joined the first.  “Oh, uh, I guess that’s a silly question.”
     

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    13 comments · 1,801 views
  • 14 weeks
    SA Reviews #106

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


    A lone figure wrapped in furs lay flat, exhausted, at the world’s jagged edge.

    She had done it. She had traversed numerous kingdoms and broken empires, fought immeasurable hordes, raised kings and humbled the proud, become a legend. She had seen things you people wouldn’t believe--attack ships off the shoulders of Orion, C-Beams glittering in the dark ‘round the Tannhauser Gate, the Walls of Morning and the Wailing Plains of Night. All these things, now so infinitesimally small with her final goal in sight. Just a few more stairs. Just… just a few more.

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    0 comments · 2,067 views
  • 16 weeks
    SA Reviews #105

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


    Of the many things Scarlet Weather anticipated on seeing when she entered the Angels’ breakroom, seeing a beet red Intern splayed all over the couch, face down, wasn’t too far off from the ordinary. Extraordinary required extra-dimensional mirror portal travel, demon invasion, and Ferret shenanigans. And with the advances being done with Scarlet’s compact, the first one would soon be bumped down the list.

    So it was that Scarlet walked past Intern, opened the fridge, grabbed a fruit drink, and headed back towards the exit.

    “Aren’t you going to ask what happened?” Intern’s muffled voice called after her.

    “No. I can come up with a few things myself, thank you.”

    Intern somehow sank lower into the couch cushions. “You’re all so cruel…”

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    9 comments · 1,341 views
  • 19 weeks
    SA Reviews #104

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


    Just inside the Seattle’s Angels prison compound, the new guy burst through Ferret’s bedroom door.

    “FERRET!” he yelled with a crazed look in his eye. “I just realized, we don’t have an introduction, let alone a conclusion!”

    “You know, Matthew, you aren’t technically the new guy anymore... we have Chris now.”

    “True... but still, what do we do for the intro?”

    “I don’t know, you should make something up. Just make sure it’s funny.”

    “But that’s the problem, Ferret. I’ve been thinking about it for a week and I’ve got nothing. Pretty soon, Scarlet over there is gonna start hounding me about deadlines.”

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    7 comments · 1,058 views
  • 20 weeks
    SA Reviews #103

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


    Deep down in the confines of a cavern, the tink tink of a pickaxe echoed along the walls as dim lamplight lit up a long hall.

    TOM set the pickaxe down, grinning as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “Well? What do ya think? Do we dig deeper?”

    Archonix kneeled down, grabbing a small patch of soil from the ground. After a deep sniff, he shook his head. “Not close enough. We need to go deeper.”

    “Aw, seriously?! We’re like six feet under right now!”

    “Two. Two feet,” Arch corrected.

    “And we’d be four feet more if you grabbed another pickaxe.”

    “Less talking, more swinging!” Arch declared as he held up the lantern.

    TOM sighed, readied his hands, and held the pickaxe aloft.

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    7 comments · 1,311 views
  • 22 weeks
    SA Reviews #102

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


    Deep in the Seattle's Angel's secret combination treehouse lair and sauna, Cynewulf finished placing the last touches on an elaborately painted miniature, blew on it gently, and set it down before making her way to take a long-awaited rest.

    It is predictably at this point that something in the distance exploded.

    "CYNE!"

    Scarlet burst into the room, a crazed look in her eyes. "Come with me if you want to live!"

    Cynewulf's eyes darted back and forth. "What is it? What's wrong?"

    "No time to explain! They're already upon us!" Grabbing her compatriot's hand, Scarlet dragged her deep into the bowels of the treehouse's safe room.

    One trip into the bowels of the lair later, Cyne collapsed beside Scarlet, breathing heavily. "What is it? Who's after us? Are we being bombed?"

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    8 comments · 1,407 views
  • 24 weeks
    SA Reviews #101

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


    Giving a long, satisfied sigh of a job well done, Intern powered down his workstation. For the last time.

    “What are you doing?”

    Intern started and whirled around, finding Corejo standing nearby with an eyebrow raised.

    “What’s it look like I’m doing?” Intern reached down to pick up his work satchel and slung it over his shoulder. “This is it. We’re done. The Angels have reached one hundred and I’m heading home!” He gave a jaunty wave and turned for the exit.

    “You do know there are numbers after one hundred, right?”

    Corejo’s voice stopped Intern in his tracks. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

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    12 comments · 1,389 views
Jul
9th
2017

Story Reviews » SA Reviews #108 · 2:25am July 9th

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 · 1,484 views ·
Comments ( 6 )
Kell #1 · July 9th · · 18 ·

First :p

Kell #3 · July 10th · · 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.

Kell #5 · July 10th · · ·

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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