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I'm making a band of thievesFor MLP and they're hippocampi or merponies, seaponies w.e you want to call them c:
They're kinda like pirates, though they're more like bandits.
But for now is there anyone that wants a place? you can take up to two posts whether they be different characters or the same
Though I have some visual personal headcanons i'll post them here later c:
Merponies have three breeds (similar to normal ponies)
'Earth Merponies' tend to be inherently stronger than their counterparts they are also better swimmers, they tend to be good candidates for Brutes and Looters.
'Unicorn Merponies' They have use of illusion-type and sometimes destructive-type magics, Making them good candidates for Singers and Crushers.
'Pegasi Merponies' They can breathe and be on land for around two hours, making them Good candidates Gunners and Scouts.
THE BAND DOES NOT KILL.
The band will take commissions to get specific items.
One can take on personal thefts for some extra coin.
The pay will be split as follow
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
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