Twilight Sparkle, proud personal student of Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia, has just arrived to Ponyville with a supposedly critical assignment: "make some friends." Surely there are more important matters to attend to? Surely Princess Celestia would understand if Twilight reneged just this once, for the greater good? Surely… a coin flip would help.

But it can be unwise to trust in fate.

Thanks to La Barata and Golden Vision for initial brainstorming (and FloydienSlip for the title).
Thanks to ChromeMyriad for pre-reading.
Cover image by Huussii, used with permission.

Character tags subject to change as the story progresses.

Four short, mostly disjointed stories revolving around Hoofington locksmith Luster Lock and one pony with whom she becomes acquainted.

Untitled (Luster Lock vs. Bristle)
Working after hours at Lock's Locks, Luster has a pleasant run-in with a stallion and his young son.

"The Facts of Ponyville" (Luster Lock vs. Heather Rose)
Apart from her Germane heritage, Heather Rose isn't far off from your average Ponyville flower farmer. And like any good Ponyville flower farmer, she doesn't do so well with danger or the bombastic idiots who go seeking it out.

"Supercell" (Luster Lock vs. Vanilla Skies)
Manehattan Weather Cooperative Overseer Vanilla Skies is authorized to hire any able-bodied pegasi on one-time commissions in periods of dire need. The freak storm heading into the city tonight more than qualifies.

"What You Love" (Luster Lock vs. Lilligold)
A respected breeder of magical plants, Elmshire's Lilligold, finds herself in the throes of a particularly troublesome bout of gardener's block.

My collected submissions to Obselesence's OC Slamjam competition, wherein anonymous authors each created an OC to write against the other authors' OCs. The character descriptions that the stories were based upon can be found here. A deeper explanation of and my retrospective on the competition can be found in this blog post. Note: This story has been re-submitted for publishing with permission. Sorry if you've seen it go up already.

Paul Matthews is a young man of average height and average weight and fairly average disposition. He is normal, and abnormally so. That rarely seen kind of person who, even in their early years, gives off the impression that they are destined for a moderately successful career in middle management at some cold, gray corporation.

Paul Matthews is about to come very close to something that few people do.

An entry for Obselescence's Most Dangerous Game contest.

After reading, you may want to head over to this blog for some explanations and/or backstory.

The best view you could ever ask for, all clear skies and sprawling plains and forests. History baked into every brick and stained into every pane of glass. Streets paved—sometimes literally—with gold.

But then there's the ponies.

I really do hate this place.

Rated Teen for mild language. Marked On Hiatus because I have no immediate plans to continue it.

Written for the Circleship Collab. Click here for full details and links to the collab's other stories; a number are gems. Thanks go to the wonderful JohnPerry for looking my story over for the collab.

Cover image by AlexTooth, used with permission.

In the Zebrican tribes, for those zebras who have the talent, becoming a shaman is not a duty, not a responsibility, and certainly not a choice—it is a necessity. Some adjust to the role differently than others.

Entry for the World-Building Alliance's March writing contest, where it tied for first place alongside Educated Guess's excellent The King of Kings.

Gout would one day become a figure of great importance to dragonkind, a paragon of the natural order, full of righteous anger and a healthy greed. But everyone must have their beginnings, and Gout’s are here, in this cave, with this mission and this friend.

Entry for the World-Building Alliance's February writing contest—took third place.

The elders tell of times long past, when throughout the plains, hyenas massed.
Yet they were not as we are now; naught but beasts they were, strong, fierce, and fast.
And they acted as befits a beast—procreation, slaughter, feast—
Till a Monster came, we know not how. Through Him, lowliness soon ceased.

A poem, with a short scene framing it. Entry for the World-Building Alliance's January writing contest, where it earned an honorable mention.

"Sis, I know you always told me that the farm is our home and that we all belong there, but you also told me you had to leave to find that out. I hope you can understand. I'm tired of ponies telling me that I'll find out who I am if I wait. What kind of boring self am I ever going to find by just sitting around doing normal stuff?"

—

Cover image by Icaron, used with permission.

A somewhat meta short in which the author attempts to ease himself back into writing fiction while the starring character does the same.