Gentian's Lexical Tomfoolery

[EquestrianPenguin]

Why you have to hit us with feels Gentian? I thought we were friends

[Gentian]

Why you have to hit us with feels Gentian? I thought we were friends

It got a happy ending, though.

[EquestrianPenguin]

Why you have to hit us with feels Gentian? I thought we were friends

It got a happy ending, though.

Still gave me the feels mang

[Gentian]

How about something lighter this time? Did you know?
Best Poni is Acronym!

Trust,
in her, and from her in our
Worth
as a couple, her brilliant
Illumination
shining on the strands of fate linking our hearts in
Love,
sweet and pure, stretching across the stars, her
Insight
born of talent, honed by determination and yielding
Greatness,
naturally flowing from her unique gestalt, lending
Hope
for what we have, and what may still come: the
Triumph
of our spirits, the knowing of each other.

[Gray]

How about something lighter this time? Did you know?
Best Poni is Acronym!

Trust,
in her, and from her in our
Worth
as a couple, her brilliant
Illumination
shining on the strands of fate linking our hearts in
Love,
sweet and pure, stretching across the stars, her
Insight
born of talent, honed by determination and yielding
Greatness,
naturally flowing from her unique gestalt, lending
Hope
for what we have, and what may still come: the
Triumph
of our spirits, the knowing of each other.

I ended up saving this one too

[Gentian]

How about something lighter this time? Did you know?
Best Poni is Acronym!

Trust,
in her, and from her in our
Worth
as a couple, her brilliant
Illumination
shining on the strands of fate linking our hearts in
Love,
sweet and pure, stretching across the stars, her
Insight
born of talent, honed by determination and yielding
Greatness,
naturally flowing from her unique gestalt, lending
Hope
for what we have, and what may still come: the
Triumph
of our spirits, the knowing of each other.

I ended up saving this one too

Thank you, Mr. Gray! I'm not sure it deserves that, since I wrote it sitting in a waiting room, trying to keep my mind off of things, but we're glad you like it.

[Gentian]

I'm a "Filthy Casual" tier fan of WH40K. It's an amazing, soul-crushing setting full of detail, artwork, and some good spinoffs, like Event Horizon. One of my favorite pieces of art, is the Crux Terminatus. I had an idea for turning it in to a Crux Equestriatus. The sketches turned out well, but unfortunately, my ability to produce a nice polished drawing is nonexistent. So, I thought I'd try crafting a purity seal out of construction paper, and that lead to needing something to write on it. I came up with this.

Construction paper is proving much harder to find than I imagined, so I'll just go ahead and share it, and maybe, one of these decades, I'll find some, and can make my project. It is of course, about the God-Empress Celestia. Praise the Sun!

The Princess' Prayer

Our Princess, who art of Equus,
rainbowed be thy mane.

Thy reign endure, thy glory sure,
throughout the depths of time and space.

Please, raise this day your shining sun,
and share with us your guidance,
as we spread to all the glory of your name.

And lead us not into loneliness,
but deliver us to friendship.

For thine is the demesne,
and the wonder,
and the love.

Forever.

[Kadae]

Praise the sun!

The Princess' Prayer reads really nicely, but seeing it written on your Crux Equestriatus was really freakin' cool, much more so than I could've anticipated.

[Gentian]

Praise the sun!

The Princess' Prayer reads really nicely, but seeing it written on your Crux Equestriatus was really freakin' cool, much more so than I could've anticipated.

Thank you very much! I actually got a frame to put the seal in, and it's sitting pretty on my desk atm. Sure it's silly, but what the hey.

[Gentian]

It's just a story, please don't be upset by it.



Nobody


Once upon a time there was a man who lived alone. When he wasn't working he'd spend his days reading, shitposting, and watching a show about colorful, cartoon ponies. Almost every day a customer would scream at him because an item was out of stock, or their coupon was out of date, or just because they knew that they could. One day he yelled back, and went home without a job.

There he sat, day by day, until his bank account was as empty as the bottles of whiskey strewn about the floor. But he still had the ponies. Cute, friendly ponies having adventures in a world where everyone had a place, and friendship was more than an empty word.

“I wish I could go there, too” he said.

Cute, friendly ponies, laughed, flew, and played on his screen. His food was gone, but so what? It's easier to fill his belly with liquor than food, anyway. Then the water stopped, too. “That's fine,” he said “I'll just take 2 swigs instead of 1.” Next went the power, but who needed the TV? The ponies were still there without it. Little things whispering through the walls, and up from the drains. Scurrying around the baseboards at night. Darting too and fro through the air, always hiding in some nook, or cranny, but he saw them anyway. Lovely little ponies, they made everything bearable.

“Come play with us” he at last heard them say, so he did. Following their friendly, lighthearted giggles into the forest. “Climb up the stairs!”

What are stairs doing in the middle of the woods?

“It's the way to Equestria!” They answer, even though he hadn't spoken a word. So he approached the spotless landing, and a buzz awoke inside his head.

“I don't remember these being here before.”

“Never mind that! Climb, climb!” and he did, through a headache which throbbed more fiercely with every step. “Almost to the top” They shouted, and he could barely hear them. Not because of wind, or bugs, or any other forest sound, for there were none; the very copse itself seemed to be holding it's breath. Only the buzz, the deafening, throbbing drone competed with their voices. It didn't matter; he'd made it! “Give us your hand!”

Months later, some hunters found a body in the woods. Enough of one, anyway to match it to the man who had gone missing.

“Bear.” some said, at the rended flesh, and broken bones.

“Javelina” said others at the torn thighs, and missing genitals.

“Pit Bull” said the soccer mom who no longer remembered it had been she who deliberately provoked him in to yelling, for no other reason than wanting to get someone fired. Nobody cared enough about the pony-loving social reject to note neither the leaves in his clothes, nor bits of thorny vine stuck in his flesh were of a type no botanist would recognize.

They buried him in an unmarked grave, in the potter's field atop a reclaimed landfill. There were no mourners.