Equestrian Legends Redux is a reboot of a popular MLPFIM roleplaying forum. We offer an extremely detailed sandbox world, a low minimum wordcount of 100, and a rapidly moving, far reaching plot. While you are just as welcome to play slice of life threads here, and they are encouraged between plot events, please know that Redux is very story driven, and considerably darker than the show.
Weather: Warm and sunny, but with a peculiar sort of silence to the air Date: September Tenth, 5150 Current Events: The Grand Galloping Gala Description: This biannual event was always intended to be one of celebration and delight, even if politics and stodginess did often get in the way. But this year, there is no doubt that the very nature of the Gala has been irrevocably altered. Begun by Princess Celestia after her Sister's banishment, now the Gala is being continued by Princess Luna after Celestia's death. This site appears best in Chrome, Firefox and Opera browsers.
For those of you unfortunate enough ot have witnessed by cbox explosion earlier today, let me preface this by saying no, I will not actually close down the site, that's just completely beyond reasonable behaviour and stright into the "unforgivable, manipulative bitch" redzone.
However, if people aren't going to be sensible about changelings, I will remove them from the playable races listing and forcibly retire any changeling characters currently on site (apologies in advance to Tales, Queshire, and Icefox, who all have cor plan to have such characters).
I am not saying that ponies will not be paranoid and concerned about a continuing changeling presence.
I am, however, saying that it is unbelievably stupid for anyone to hold a mind-slave accountable for actions that were beyond their control. Now, maybe your character wants to be anti-changeling, that's fine. I'm not going to stop you. But you, as the player, need to be aware of this.
In addition, the relationship between the changeling second in command, Shadow, and Princess Luna is going to almost certainly ensure that the official government response on changeling integration is positive.
Now, obviously, a lot of changeling backstory has not yet been revealed, and I had planned to do it over the course of the event these next two weeks.
However, it's obvious that I'm going to need to make this public now, so people can start getting their crap together.
I am very sorry to one particular member (you know who you are) that I am about to blow your personal plot twist. It is rude, and unconscionable, but at this point I do not think it can be helped.
Flavor notes and racial history:
Once upon a time, Gaia was a wilder world. No... not wilder. But different. Order had it’s place, but Chaos too. It was a time before Harmony, when balance meant not meshing the two opposing forces into something smooth and sweet, but swapping back and forth between them, a mouthful of sugar and a mouthful of milk, never brought together to create whipped cream.
There were gods in these old days, but they were nothing like the noble visages that all entrust their lives and futures in today’s world. They were wilder things too, leaning far more towards Chaos than Order, but in only the sweetest of ways. And behind the shimmering dust of their wings, joy and riotous rapture followed. Spirits of parties and spring, embodiments of love and celebration, with voices like chimes and eyes that glittered with the light of turning ages.
Or perhaps they were just ponies, like you and me. Just a different sort of pony. There are the nightwatch vamponies, and the sturdy earthponies, the flighty pegasus ponies and the righteous unicorn ponies, the elegant crystal ponies, the slipsy-tricksy mire ponies, the once beloved twice lost bicorn ponies.
Who would be surprised, anymore, to see another walking gingerly from the depths of history?
These strange, dew-winged spectacles who had no home yet were always welcome, were known as the Flutter Ponies. And they were magic given solid form. And like magic, they were riling, writhing balls of light and energy and freedom wild and raucous and yet ever working for the betterment of all. They were transformation and adulation and delight.
They were too much to be kept in one place, but the coming of the Flutter Ponies was always celebrated.
And highest among them was the majestic Queen, Rosedust, with wings of imprisoned light, pink as sunrise, whose songs were spun on the breeze and brought good luck even as they wiped old worries away. In the shining spotlight of her golden coat, there was no such thing as cold or fear, only warmth and comfort and most of all, there was love.
The wild, untameable love of the young, the strong, silent love of the old, the soft, sweet love of mother and daughter, the trusted foundation of love among friends, the deep and unchangeable love of all for their world and their world for all. These were Rosedust, and she was as they were. So long as Gaia was a world of love, Rosedust and her motley troupe would be its gods.
But when you were timeless and impossible, sometimes the world drifts away beneath your hooves when you aren’t watching close enough. The search for new meadows to romp and roam lead Rosedust and her Flutter Ponies far away from those who held them in regard, and so separated were they from the understanding of time, all games and music and novelty, that they disappeared into nothing more than myth.
And then there was the time of war.
The time of ice.
The time when love was lost, unseated from it’s place in the crown and crest, when hatred and frigid hearts prevailed, each beating in time only with itself. The world became a cruel place, and love a liability. Lovers died for eachother. And with them, love died.
And when the weakness took her tribe, Rosedust, who was as love itself, crumbled to give her ponies safety and strength to return. What became of her, none know. But the light of her body unravelled with the sending of them to their old touring grounds.
Grounds where they were unknown.
Honeysuckle was nothing but a springtime plant that had not been seen in a generation.
Morning Glory was a flower that never saw enough sun to bloom.
Peach Blossom was an abortive recollection of fruits frozen on the branch.
Forget Me Not was beyond remembering.
Day Lily, Windsong, Cloud Puff. All of them forgotten when they had once been patron gods of the little herds and villages of the world.
All that remained was vitriol and twisted legends. They were insectoid abominations which took their power from the love of others, stole it away in the dark of the night.
No love was wasted on them.
But they were gods, the gods of the old world of warmth and wild song, and they could not die.
They wilted, as the flowers that had once bloomed beneath their hooves.
They curled into themselves, crumbling as brittle leaves beneath the autumn frost.
They blackened with rot.
They felt hunger, they knew weakness, and they wasted beneath it. What were they to do? They were impossible things, they could never die, but oh they could starve, oh they could hurt. Death was a kindness forbidden them, these old and decrepit gods.
And so they langoured, even as the ice receded, even as spring returned. It did nothing to ease their broken bodies, cold and so, so hungry.
They might have remained there forever, in their little valley of exile, the world moving along without them. They had lived an eternity. What was a few centuries? What was the rest of time? It was easier to lay and waste, and dream the thoughtless dream of death that they could never have.
But there was one, who was consumed with something strange. The others were now the empty, yawning absence of love, but Willow Wisp, who had once had a reputation for sneaking little foals away from their herd to dance among the Flutter Ponies in their endless migration for the rest of their lives, felt something else.
Something that was like love, burning hot and reckless, unyielding to the battery of time and torture. But it was not love. It was upside down and inside out, gutted as an old squash and roasted until it had gone hard and brittle black.
It was hatred.
Hatred for those that had condemned her to this, that had committed an unimaginable treason on her tribe.
And she stood, changed, as the caterpillar in the spring. But from her cocoon came no dewy butterfly. Instead, she was a skeleton wasp, and she was a changed thing.
She was Chrysalis, and she was the first Changeling, and she breathed her burning hate as Rosedust has once breathed her warm love, and she brought vivid life into the tribe once again, though they were flutter ponies no more.
They were hungry. They were hateful. They were broken through no fault of their own, nor of anything but unforgiving time and cruel nature. And where once they were the brighter side of Chaos, they now stood as the blackest shadow of Order, one mind, under the rule of their dark Queen.
Who would still deny them their love?
Notes of a less artistic and fun to read bent: -Flutter ponies cannot half breed with other creatures because they do not have genetics as such. They, not unlike Celestia’s mane, are entities of solidified magic. Whee~ -Flutter ponies have a specific population point of 444 (hence the changeling population point of 443). There are always that many flutterponies (or changelings, as the case may be) in existence, never more, never less. -Flutter ponies can be killed, in the same fashions any god can be killed. -Upon a flutter death, a new flutter pony is born whole cloth somewhere else in Gaia. LIkewise, if a changeling is killed, a new changeling forms fully grown somewhere else in Gaia, as a mindless (infant-like) drone.
In case you haven’t read it, or in case you have and are feeling a horribly intense sense of deja vu, yes. DMFA Fae are a heavy influence.
No, Hollows do not exist and cannot be made. If a flutter wants to breed that badly, they might as well just magic-sneak some genetic material off a suitable donor.
Finally, how does a changeling become a flutter pony?
After Chrysalis has been dethroned, there will be a large release of energy (to the tune of a World Healing Wave). A significant number of changelings will be converted to their former, Flutter Pony selves after exposure to it. A similar number will remain changelings, and will simply have to "work towards" becoming a flutter pony. The process by which a changeling becomes a flutter is individual, and usually bears some significance to their former identity as a Flutter Pony in the pre-Discordian era.
A side effect of this energy wave will be to alter the current balance of gods in Gaia to resemble the pre-Discordian array, meaning that a large number of very confused beings will wake up to find themselves very much immortal. If you had a character who was a god on EqLeg Prime, this is their cue to ascend on Redux as well.