User blog comment:Guildmaster Grovyle/JLE Role Play, Winter 2014-2015/@comment-24422626-20141224034644


 * Glaive is walking silently down a dark, dingy street near Maretropolis's harbor. As he passes a certain small nightclub, he notices the door is opened by a crack, and there is a trickle of blood seeping out onto the sidewalk. Glaive moves to the door instinctively. He opens it slowly, prepared to leap out of the way of an ambush, but none comes. All he sees are dead ponies strewn about, their twisted forms telling horrible stories of their last moments. One gangpony lies by Glaive's hooves, at the end of a red trail smeared across the floor by his own movements as he had attempted to crawl to the door. Others are pinned to the wall by axes, gazing lifelessly toward their own blood splatter on the opposite side of the room. Glaive checks the pulse of every mangled gangpony, but they are all dead. He shakes his head, steps outside, and pulls out his communicator.*

Butler: Yes?

Glaive: Butler, I've found a gang at a nightclub here... They've all been killed. I need you to send some police units to 143 Thresher Street. Do it quickly.

Butler: Done.

* At the resort, Discord stands nearby with the statue of Eris tucked under his arm.*

Discord: ...Some peeps just don't respect that vacations are for relaxation.

Anyhoo, I'm off. It's a pleasure to have met with you again, Power Ponies, though I hope that next time, we'll have more pleasant events come our way. And Acolyte...

* Discord leans down and nudges Acolyte, his face suddenly more serious.*

If you ever want to chat... about Eris or anything... I'll listen.

* Discord stands up again and stretches.*

I'll pay for this vacation and the next, my little ponies. The stress you already deal with shouldn't overflow into your bank accounts.