News Archive

  • 2 weeks
    SA Reviews #125

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

    Corejo, as a Seattle’s Angel, had experienced many weird things during his tenure as a reviewer. Multiple base explosions, the fabric of spacetime ripping apart with seeming regularity, and the slightly disturbing obsession Red had for nuts.

    Even with all that, today was already vying for his top five list in terms of stuff he didn’t expect to be a part of when he woke up that morning.

    “Okay class!” Ferret announced from her position on top of a teacher’s desk. Before her, a room full of kids and a few adults sat at wooden desk, pencils and papers at the ready. “Today beings the first day of the School of Reviewers!”

    Corejo raised his hand.

    “Oh, and I see we already have a question. What is it?”

    “Yeah, uh, what is even the heck? Why do we have a reviewer school?”

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    15 comments · 1,413 views
  • 5 weeks
    SA Reviews #124

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

    “Look,” said Red, “I really think you’re going about this the wrong way.”

    “Oh really?” said Matthew419. “How would you suggest otherwise?”

    “Don’t dangle me by my tail off the edge of a fifty-story building?”

    A spotlight peered up at them. “This is Intern!” Intern shouted up through a megaphone. “We’ve got the building surrounded! Drop the squirrel and--”

    The megaphone squealed loudly, and there were sounds of a scuffle before another voice shouted at them once again. “No no no, don’t drop the squirrel!” said someone who Red thought might be Ebon Quill. “I mean, do, but first, just step away from the ledge and we’ll talk!”

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    12 comments · 2,217 views
  • 8 weeks
    SA Reviews #123

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

    The pillars rose up around him, towering over Corejo like judgmental parents. On top of the pillars stood the Pillars, looking down on him like disappointed parents.

    “This council of Equestria’s first league of extraordinary gentlecolts—”

    “And three gentlemares!”

    Starswirl rolled his eyes. “Yes, quite.” Clearing his throat, Starswirl continued, “find you, Corejo, guilty. Stygian, read him his sentence.”

    Stygian, who wasn’t standing on any of the pillars, unfurled a scroll and began reading. Corejo could have sworn his voice sounded familiar. “You are hereby sentenced to review on a tight deadline. You will have to forsake the niceties the Seattle’s Angels grant their employees in order to make your due date.”

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    13 comments · 2,997 views
  • 10 weeks
    SA Reviews #122

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

    Paul paced about the thing laughably referred to as his office. He could get about four steps down before having to make a turn, and that’s assuming his line of motion was just right. He glanced at his clock, grumbled some phrase unfit for the world wide web, and continued his pacing.

    “Hey, Paul!” The door swung open. Since this was the smallest office in the history of offices, that resulted in the door smacking Paul in the face. With a hand over his bleeding nose, he turned his glare upon the visitor, one Novel-Idea.

    “You were supposed to be here hours ago.” Except it came out something like “Ou er spsed here hrgo” due to the current state of his nose.

    Novel shrugged. “Blame T.O.M. We gonna do those reviews or what?”

    Paul stared incredulously. “Ou evn’t dn urrs?”

    “Not yet, nope.”

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    6 comments · 2,710 views
  • 12 weeks
    SA Reviews #121

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

    The room was lit by faint orange candlelight, barely enough to see by, but the sole occupant didn’t mind. In fact, he prefered the dim glow as it added to the mystique and allure of his persona. Words and phrases came to him more easily in this atmosphere, not to mention that it had a soothing effect on his mind. Everything in place, Ebon Quill raised the quill that was his namesake and dipped it into an inkwell. He held the quill to a piece of parchment, hands poised to write the first word.

    The door to his room burst open and a bright light flicked on.

    “Ack!” Ebon Quill’s first word became a jagged line across the paper. Fuming, he scrunched up the ruined parchment into a wad and tossed it into a nearby waste bin.

    “Jeez, man, how do you even see?” Intern asked as he crossed the room where Ebon Quill sat.

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    8 comments · 2,837 views
  • 14 weeks
    SA Reviews #120

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

    “So, uh, Paul?”

    “Yeah, Matthew?”

    “Why are you in my office?” Matthew shook his head. “Better yet, why are you hanging from the ceiling in my office?”

    “Oh, you know,” Paul started, “I don’t have anyone else to hang out with.”

    Matthew raised his right eyebrow. “Really?” he asked. “Puns?”

    “Not quite. There’s a method to my acting.”

    “Oh? Care to share?” Matthew asked.

    “Eh, not really,” Paul replied. “I’m putting these in at the perfect times. It’s all in the setupl, ya know?”


    “I was also sent by Ferret to wait for you to finish coming home. We got reviews to do.”

    Matthew sighed “Ugh, fine. What d’ya got?”

    ROUND 120

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    6 comments · 3,950 views
  • 16 weeks
    SA Reviews #119

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

    “So it’s us two this time, huh?”


    “Amazing how much we can get done, even with our compound getting destroyed.”

    “Sure is.”

    “This is what, the third time?”

    “Dunno. Lost count.”

    “Think we’ll make it in time?”

    “It’s gonna be close, that’s for sure.”

    “How much further?”

    “Just a little more… there!”

    Corejo stepped back and admired his work. A giant bronze sculpture of Seattle stood tall against the sky as Intern nudged it into place with a swarm of remote controlled drones. The statue sat in place in front of the compound entrance, an opened book resting in the crook of its arm and a pen held high in the other.

    Dusting off his hands, even though he did none of the work, Corejo turned to Intern with a nod. “Great. Now that that’s done, back to the reviews.”

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    7 comments · 2,896 views
  • 18 weeks
    SA Reviews #118

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

    “Hey, Matthew, watcha doin?” asked Chris, walking into their shared broom closet office.

    “Oh, not much. Just hiding from Fer… you know who.” Matthew shivered as he spoke.

    “What’d you do this time?” Chris asked.

    “I forgot to clean the bathroom.”

    “Ooh, Class five offense. Yikes.”

    Matthew nodded. “Anyway, what do you need from here?”

    “Me? Oh, I just got assigned to do reviews with you as punishment.”

    Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Your punishment or mine?”

    “Both,” Chris said, putting a stack of papers on the table. “I cut off Arch’s beard.”

    ROUND #118

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    14 comments · 2,641 views
  • 22 weeks
    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 · 4,506 views
  • 24 weeks
    SA Reviews #115

    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.

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    11 comments · 4,657 views

Story Reviews » SA Reviews #126 · 1:51am April 16th

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?”


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 · 1,490 views ·
Comments ( 3 )
Hap #1 · 1 week ago · · ·

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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