News Archive

  • Saturday
    SA Reviews #116

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


    Sitting on a rock surrounded by debris, Intern typed away furiously on a laptop lying on his lap. Being so engrossed in his work, he failed to see a figure march up to him. The figure cleared his throat, but didn’t get a response. Next, the figure lightly tapped Intern on the shoulder but still didn’t get a reaction.

    The figure finally settled on slapping Intern on the back of his head.

    “Hey!” Intern squawked indignantly. “I’m trying to work here.” Looking up, he found a man he didn’t recognize staring impatiently down at him. The man was dressed in a finely pressed suit and carried a briefcase. “Can I help you?”

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    7 comments · 2,438 views
  • 4 weeks
    SA Reviews #114

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


    Intern burst open a door, startling the Angels gathered inside sitting next to a poker table, and causing many to drop their cards.

    “Hey, I was about to win that hand!” Cynewulf yelled.

    Intern ignored her. He cast a quick glance over their confused and concerned faces, scowled, then slammed the door shut. He stomped towards the next door and threw it open much the same way he did the first. Long past the point of caring, Intern once again looked over everybody inside the room. At last, sitting towards the back in a darkened corner, he found his target.

    Waltzing in and brushing past anyone in his way, Intern loomed over the figure that was furiously scribbling away on a piece of paper.

    Intern reached over and flicked the on switch for the light.

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    4 comments · 2,736 views
  • 6 weeks
    SA Reviews #113

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


    "What's that in your mouth?"

    "It's a pipe," said Cyne, and jabbed the briary thing at Archonix from her comfortable chair by the fire, that flickered low and dark, and smoked more than a thoughtful philosopher at three in the morning when the rain is scattering drops in careful patterns across dust-rimed windows.

    Archonix raised his eyebrows. "And it comes with all that prose for free, does it?"

    Cyne clomped her teeth around the pipe and glared at Archonix. "You smoke one as well, you donkey."

    "Only when I'm trying to write reviews," said Archonix. "And that's discrimination that is."

    Cyne didn't answer, preferring to stare into the fire and to think long thoughts, something entirely alien to Archonix on the best of days. They sighed in unison.

    ROUND 113

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    4 comments · 4,429 views
  • 8 weeks
    SA Reviews #112

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


    The low-lying fog obscured the two ponies’ hooves as they tramped through the ancient graveyard. Luna’s moon hung in the early autumn air, burning a sickly yellow.

    “I hate graveyards, Ferret,” Intern said as he tightened his rucksack. He spluttered as he walked through a dangling cobweb.

    Ferret chuckled, and hopped over some brambles. “Watch where you step, you never know when—”

    There was a click underhoof, and a grasping griffon claw burst from the loam beneath the pair. Intern leapt back, cursing. Ferret laughed, and plucked the padded foam prop from its spring.

    “Why are we even here, Ferret? That new kid, Novel-whoever, is pretty good. This is a waste of our time.”

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    6 comments · 4,533 views
  • 10 weeks
    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 · 3,975 views
  • 11 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 · 3,993 views
  • 17 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 · 4,498 views
  • 19 weeks
    SA Reviews #108

    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?”

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    6 comments · 1,642 views
  • 21 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 · 1,959 views
  • 23 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 · 2,159 views
Nov
4th
2017

Story Reviews » SA Reviews #115 · 2:19am November 4th

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


Corejo stepped into Ferret’s office, hands clasping a manila folder behind his back.  “You wanted to see me?”

Ferret sat at her desk beneath the light of a single overhead lamp.  She wore a see-through green visor and worked hell on a roller-print calculator.  The chu-chug of the calculator filled the air as it spit out what were probably forged tax return numbers.  Hard times were upon us now that the movie sucked away most of our reader base.

She rolled her stogie from one side of her mouth to the other.  She didn’t bother looking up.  “Your reviews.  Don’t forget, I need them by tomorrow.”

“You called me down here to remind me to do my reviews on time?”  Corejo smirked, taking slow, meaningful strides toward her desk.  He flopped a manila folder on her desk.

The chu-chug stopped as Ferret looked at it in surprise, then at him.

“It just so happens I got mine done a day early,” he said, his smirk turning to a grin that had a snowball’s chance in hell of charming a dead rat.  Probably less.  Definitely less.

“You… You what!?”  She shook her head, put her adorable, little paws up to her head.  “No.  This can’t be.  This can’t happen.”

Corejo frowned.  “What, so the one time I actually get my reviews in on time you don’t appreciate it?  What about Cyne?”

Ferret leapt onto his chest and gripped him by the collar.  “No, you don’t understand.  You’re never on time with your reviews.  You can’t be on time with your—”

The Seattle’s Angels Secret Underground Base and Tree Fort rumbled, startling them both to the floor.

“What in Equestria was that?” Corejo said.

“The Prophecy!”  She stared at Corejo, fear in her eyes. “What have you unleashed!?”

The earth heaved beneath them, and all went dark.

ROUND 113  (I think? Where’s Phazon when you need him?)


Even in our darkest moments, the stars shine coldly down – distant and remote, but bright in the blackness. Refuse them, shut them out, and they remain. Let them in, and they may convince you of the warmth in their embrace.

This is not a story about stars.

This is a story about people and ponies, and what they visit on each other in moments of darkness.


I like stories that lean heavily on implication.  They force you to read and read into the words on the page.  They force you to pay attention to what isn’t stated more than what is.

I will say that the subject matter is rather heavy for those unprepared, but this is a quick oneshot you shouldn’t pass up.

AShadowofCygnus shows her’s capable of this style of writing.  Cold Light is indeed not a story about stars, as the synopsis indicates.  (It’s hardly even about ponies, but that’s beside the point.)  It is a story about a girl coming home late at night to a cold and lonely apartment, and we don’t quite know how or why she ended up in her present situation.

A sharp, pointed, bare-minimum narrative drives home the defensive, paranoid thought processes of this girl in the wake of a slowly unfolding mystery (a mystery to us, not her.  Mostly, anyway).  The dialogue feels disjointed in that uncanny way only someone in the girl’s situation could make feel natural, and the story is all the more immersive for it.

It’s a story of grasping at and failing to grasp the evils of the world, of coming to terms with their existence and coping in light of them.  It’s a story about moving forward despite what these evils can do to you.

And that is a lesson we all need to hear every once in awhile.

I’d like to start this review with a slight warning. This story contains some heavy stuff. In the interest of preserving the integrity of the tale, I won’t tell you unless you ask me directly, but I will give you a heads up that this is kind of heavy.

What is bent cannot be straightened, and what is missing cannot be counted. That’s from Ecclesiastes, if you’re curious. I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve also thought about another bit--”The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power;  it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.” The idea of time and suffering and the interaction of one with another is a supernal and abiding mystery. How do we move on from things? Not just the awful or the ecstatic, but from anything? How does the world move on? The Mystery of that comes after takes on a lot of forms. It inspired us to dream of life beyond the veil of death. It sent our hearts out into the stars, for what happens after Earth. And sometimes it haunts us after we have been robbed of the peace and hope we held dear, like a mocking albatross. (But what if there were a way, it says, that the thing spoilt and broken might live again?)


This story hit really, really hard for me. I actually did a blog about this subject, and I’m glad to say I got this story on my slate. This is how you write something both sensitive and inhuman. This is how you do it. This is how you communicate the spiritual and physical horror of one of the most vile things that a human can do.


This is also how you communicate that time heals all wounds in a way that does not at all condescend. It is true that time scars over every open wound, but Cygnus has made the correct choice to not pretend that this process is easy, or swift, or that it happens evenly.


Rarity and Sunset are having their third weekly Dappled Shores marathon.

And then Sunset ruins everything.


Eww, a Sunset Shimmer shipping story?  Gross.  Why did I agree to this again?

Oh yea.  Because it’s good.

It’s a hilarious, feel-good story centered around Sunset and Rarity’s weekly date night, where the two binge watch their new favorite tv show Dappled Shores, for which the story is titled.  Like all shows available on Netflix, or whatever internet streaming service you might use, the temptation to binge watch without those you promised to binge watch with is ever present, and Sunset is no stranger to the siren’s call.

She goofs, and the entire story is her trying to make it up to Rarity.  Naturally, she goofs that too.

This is a solid roller coaster of laughs, in large part due to the witty dialogue from their friends and the after-the-fact style the narrative takes.  It lets each joke flow one into the next, and the sentimental parts play effective bookends to the whole fiasco.

This one’s thoroughly worth your while.

MaxKodan, how is matcha? I’ve always wanted to try it ever since I read about it in a big book with lots of pictures as a kid.


Anyhow. We’ve all done something dumb that was minor but ended up blowing up in our faces. A lot of us have watched ahead on a show when we shouldn’t have or ate the last of the ice cream our roommate had been saving or forgotten to clean the litterbox before leaving town for the weekend. Life is kind of messy, y’all, and the more people you live in proximity with the messier it tends to get. If this story is about anything, it’s about the ridiculous ways in which we navigate the tiny yet huge difficulties of being in close quarters with others.


If I have one problem here, it’s Rarity. I truly wish there could have been a bit more of her in this story. But Sunset’s antics are very in character and it’s a kind of refreshing look at how she might act that I thoroughly enjoyed.


For four years, Sunset Shimmer has carried a torch for Miss Cheerilee, and for four years, she's struggled to look at her without thinking of the one who got away.


What’s this?  Another Sunset Shipping story?  I swear, you ponies are turning me into one of you dastardly shipping monsters.  This is heresy, I say!

But for realsies, these are some prime pony stories plucked from the recent-ish Sunset Shipping Contest.

...But It often Rhymes is on the other end of the spectrum from Dappled Shores.  Where Dappled Shores chose the light-hearted, whimsical, funny route, Rhymes chose the dramatic, tension filled one.

This is a story of Sunset Shimmer in two parts: the first in flashbacks to her teenage years during a whirlwind romance with Cheerilee, and to the present day on the eve of graduation.  It centers around Sunset’s relationships with both the pony Cheerilee and the human Cheerilee, and how she struggles with the conflicting feelings this causes.

I gotta say, Posh has a gift for writing this sort of thing.  There’s a reason this won first place in the contest.

So, I teach High School English. For now, anyhow. You try surviving in downtown Jackson with no back up and a room full of hellchildren.


But this made reading this both strange and delightful. First off, we have a back and forth--this story plays the dual nature of Sunset Shimmer’s experience for every single bit that its worth and I love that. I love when people can use that to their advantage, can really not just look at “oh wow being a human is different!” but really explore what it means to be in a mirror image of your own world. What would that be like? Yes, but more than that--imagine having a second chance with everyone you know. Or imagine being forced to experience everyone you know without any f the things you love about them or the connections you have.


Imagine that. That feeling you get when you imagine it? That’s this story. This is a wild ride, and I can’t recommend it enough. Sunset’s inner turmoil is just a delight.


When Trixie and Starlight find the friendship map after Trixie misplaced it with her wayward teleportation spell, the two discover a horrible mistake that will haunt them for the rest of their lives. After all, there's a reason most ponies don't teleport big things around on a whim.

Good thing Starlight has a plan and the know how that can take care of the whole problem.


"We are going to take these bodies, bury them behind the friendship castle, and hope Twilight never gets a dog."

This line is about 100-200 words into the story, and I was already crying laughing.

So if that quote didn’t make it apparent, this is a crackfic starring Trixie and Starlight, immediately following the events of the All Bottled Up episode.  Except, you know, in this alternate version the table landed on some unfortunate ponies, and Starlight, not wanting to go back to prison, acts perfectly in character.  Yep.  Perfectly.  In.  Character.

Did I mention this is a crackfic?

This is dark, absurdist humor on overdrive.  Every sentence is either a joke or the setup for one, and at 3.3k words, that’s a lot of laughing.

It peters out some toward the end, but I think that lends itself to the story, in that it allows the story to actually try and be a story.  Not that there is much, but it helps round out the absurdity enough to validate a random OOC situation.

Those who slay together, stay together. A bit of violence can really bind anyone closer together! MURDER IS AN ACCEPTABLE FORM OF COURTSHIP.


Take Rosencrantz and Gildenstern Are Dead, get rid of all of the metanarrative humor, focus on the ridiculous antics, and you’ll have the silhouette of this story. Trixie and Starlight Glimmer are the only ponies that know about the friendship map accidentally killing someone and only they can keep this allllll a secret. Not so hard right? Just gotta hide the bodies.

Oh, and of course get rid of any extra witnesses. Again, not hard! Hell, it’ll even be fun! It’s like a friend date with your best gal pal, but with slightly more blood than that usually entails and a bit more violent than the usual girl’s night out.


This is some freakin’ dark comedy, my dudes. I chuckled quite a bit, but it’s not for everybody. It’s definitely worth a read and a laugh.


“Ow, my head.” Corejo pulled himself out from beneath a treebranch.  “What happened?”

Ferret popped out from the rubble an arm’s length away.  She shook her head and scanned the area.  Her eyes landed on Cynewulf, half buried beneath burning tree branches, a manila folder held defensively against her breast.   “Oh no.”

She scurried over to Cynewulf, snatched the manila folder from her hand and fanned through it.  She clutched the folder to her chest floof.  “Oh, thank Celestia,” she said before scurrying off.

Somewhere in the distant wreckage, the rest of Seattle’s Angels broke free of the rubble, Archonix and Red Squirrel among them.  They looked around before meeting each other’s gazes.

Archonix frowned at Red Squirrel.  “That’s the last time I let you crisp the crème brûlée.”


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 · 3,222 views ·
Comments ( 11 )
Majin Syeekoh
Story Approver

Huh. I talk often enough with three of these people and have had parts in fixing up half of these stories.

I’d say Seattle’s Angels has good taste this go-round.:raritywink:

Comment posted by Samneo Ranvaal deleted November 4th
Posh #3 · 2 weeks ago · · ·

That is a really cute picture of Cheerilee.

Is it bad I don't remember this incident? I think I should see a doctor.

Majin Syeekoh
Story Approver

4716560
You’re a cute picture of Cheerilee

Lol, you guys didn't correct for the round change-up joke before posting. And phazon isn't here to call us out on it. What's going on here?

PresentPerfect
Author Interviewer

Good timing on Cold Light, there. :D

4716879
This was scheduled to be on Oct 5th, so we got Cold Light first.

PS, yell at Chris with me pls. He done messed up schedules.

PresentPerfect
Author Interviewer

4716967
That's actually how I prefer it, since you guys go for low view counts specifically. It's just always nice to double up on the "hey, this story is really good." :)

I realised that I never thanked you all properly for this. So: thank you. :twilightsmile:

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