So, after I finished hacking my daily (and healthy) dose of whatever the **** I want to hack, eviscerate, or annihilate, I realized that I had come so far from my home town that I had changed dimensions ! It's incredible how far those little daily pleasures can get you. I had to go ALL the way back on foot (of course, I took this opportunity to finish repainting the streets - ain't gonna stop when it's already half done, heh ?) and I lived marvelous adventures ! Being chased by the police, shooting back at them, jumping into a car and rampaging on the pedestrian way... ah, good times, good times.

In any case, what I meant to say originally is that yours (edgy) truly has decided that it was time for a new prompt ! Rejoice ! Good feelings ! Hapiness !

BAM ! Sorry, had to bang my head against the wall to stop myself from experiencing such positive thoughs. It makes me puke otherwise.

Where was I ? Ah yes ! The new prompt !

Voyage, travelling, tourism, discovery, self-discovery, accomplishement of a long lost destiny/prophecy/chores list.... so many words may rhyme with Journey. It is now up to you to decide which will ! I personally have a few ideas whenver I think of this word - and yes, they all involve fighting. Journey and Epicness are almost bywords for each other in my head. Feel free to shoot your ideas at me, and it will be my pleasure to read 'em. After I shoot you back with a magical bold of dark and tenebrous energy, of course.

4740691
Sure I'll bite, after all, my fic most certainly involves a journey both to a distant locale and one of self-discovery as major focuses of it.

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/79481/batmare-begins

4740691 Just going to do a quick thing before the prompt gets shut down…

Big Mac looked out across the farm, watching Applejack's shadow move farther away. His eyes were wet; he knew what she was going through. Seven years had passed since then, but he too had once embarked on a journey such as her’s. In fact, if he looked hard enough, he could see himself walking off into the sun, right beside Applejack.

It was an older time then, a quieter time, and the crickets had kept the younger Big Mac awake. His soft tears and small sobs had also. Lying in a warm bed, the colt still shivered, not with cold, but with an entirely different feeling. Granny Smith was downstairs, preparing dinner, but Big Mac had decided to try and sleep now. The less he was awake, the less he would have to remember.

Futility came to the forefront of his thoughts. He could do nothing, nothing at all, but he was no use to anypony laying there. If anything else, Big Mac wished he could turn back the clock, try to live just one more day in the happiness. The happiness that was his life before.

He tried not to think of his father’s gruff country voice, or his mother’s soft muzzle, but the memories crept in like monsters under the rug. And with the smell of onion soup rising from the floorboards, still more tears fell down to join it. His mother’s onion soup was his favourite meal. Now there would be no more of her special soup, and he could do nothing about it.

Many times around the farm had Big Mac taken the plough, but never had he felt as if he were the ground beneath it, churned up and cut. His heart ached in his chest, but no amount of plaster could cover the break, and there was no medicine for a sickness of the soul.

He just wished he could get away. A rotten apple, a dead tree; these things can be removed from the healthy, and dealt with in the fire. Perhaps it was time Big Mac removed himself. The farm had too many painful memories, too many happy days. He should move out, he would move out. Make a new life roaming the plains, seeking no counsel but his own. Take his dry heart and let it soak in the stream of adventure.

It was either that or let it drown in a stew of bitter tears.

It was a long time later that he came to realise there had always been a third choice. The sustenance his thirsty heart really needed had been there all along. A nice bowl of onion soup, sitting on the table for him. Ready to eat, delivered with love, and perfect for growth.

So Big Mac looked out at Applejack as she strode away, looking secure in her choice of destination. He wished he could warn her, tell her of the mistakes he had made when it had been his turn. It wasn’t his place to dictate what she could or could not do, though. It was her life, and while his hadn’t quite been the adventure he used to hope for, Big Mac felt confidence that his sister’s life would be.

He watched her go, watched the peak of her hat as it disappeared over the horizon. And there he waited, until the sun had followed suit. Just like him, he knew, one day Applejack would return. She would come home, like he had. However long it took, he could wait, and when she came home, they would be ready for her.

With a big bowl of onion soup.

I was trying to go for a more spiritual journey than a physical one, but there are parallels between the two. Thanks for reading!

4740691 Here is the start of my attempt.

Working Class DJ

Guess, I still can't think simple...

(As usual will update post when story is submitted and approved)

"Y'know what I like about travellin'?"

"Is it the long hours of boredom?" Rainbow asked, peering out the carriage window. Applejack raised her eyebrow.

"Not quite."

"Is it the constant bumping of the wheels on some dumb stone that's got caught in the whole... thing, somewhere?"

"No."

"Is it the sensation that all you're doing is waiting for the really cool bit to happen? Is it looking out the window hoping to see some sign of where you want to go?"

Rainbow gave Applejack a look. The Earth pony shrugged.

"I guess the thing I like 'bout travel is the long hours of sittin' with friends," she said. "That and the feelin' of the road 'neath the carriage, an' the feelin' that the really cool bit is just about to happen. And of course, it's lookin' out the window, and then seein' where you've been headin' this whole time."

Rainbow smiled. "I thought you'd say something like that."

And on that pleasant note, time for the next prompt. See you shortly!