#silent dusk

[sandmoonyelse]

Silent Dusk...

[babs-n-baubles]

Now here's an interesting piece. When Dawn Breaks is an original MLP story taking place in an ambiguous time during Equestria's history (and by ambiguous, I mean I have no idea if it should take place in G4 or G5).

Shining Dawn (right) and her wife Silent Dusk (left) are civil rights activists and serve as the current leaders of a newly expanding nation in Equestria called "Dawnlight," a nation that is composed of numerous different species in Equestria. Dawnlight is built on a simple idea: In the center of it's capital sits the Mark Conduit, a relic that can hold the cutie mark of any pony, then share the talent associated with that cutie mark to everyone that is attuned to the stone.

My Deviantart!

To give an example: If a pony with a cutie mark in architecture gives their cutie mark to the Conduit, everyone attuned to the stone will receive that same talent, and this is multiplicative. If another pony added another architecture cutie mark, everyone's skills in that field would double. This sharing of talents also lead to peculiar changes: Anyone attuned to the Mark Conduit will begin experiencing physical changes in their bodies due to the overflow of magic from having thousands of Cutie Marks being shared at once. These changes include but are not limited to: Thicker fur, taller stances, different colored patches of fur, larger wings, more pronounced horns, heightened resistances to the elements, and feathers on winged species will begin to acquire an unusual glow. As a result of this, citizens of Dawnlight are significantly larger and more robust than their Equestrian relatives. This conduit and Shining Dawn's leadership has lead to Dawnlight being the most developed nation in Equestria, even more so than the aristocratic Canterlot, the capital of Equestria. The benefits involved in giving a cutie mark to the Mark Conduit are too great for many to pass up, so almost everyone in Dawnlight has given their cutie mark to power the conduit. The addition of new cutie marks dramatically increases the value of everyone in Dawnlight and dramatically increases their quality of life.  On top of this, you don't even need to be a pony to reap the benefits. As long as you are magically attuned to the stone, it doesn't matter what species you are; Dragons, Yaks, Changelings, Griffons, Hippogriffs, etc. They all reap the benefits.

[sliptohk]

Prompt #5: Stamp

Ul'dah never went silent, though it did quiet down to a low murmur as the blistering heat of day gave way to the deepening chill of a moonless night. Torches snapped and crackled in their sconces along lit paths. Braziers blazed merrily away to bolster frigid travelers. Most of the competitors were asleep as morning light would bring with it far too many responsibilities. But at least for the moment things were as peaceful as they could be within the city-states' walls.

Silent Dusk made good use of it while Ellory was asleep. There was precious little in the waking hours.

Of middling height for a roegadyn, the woman still towered well above most other residents of Eorzea. Yet that was where such shared traits ended. Long of limb and leanly muscled, their proportions cut a figure too svelte to be taken for Hellsguard. Built more for agility than power, their youth had seen them treated like a victim afflicted by some wasting disease. A lack of bulk mistaken for physical deficiency. Yet neither lack of weight nor bulging physique had kept the woman from carving out their own place among the fiercely competitive realm of professional sellswords.

There was never a question of finding work. Lesser contracts were redirected toward allied bands to make time for challenging obstacles. Few turned down the offer, save for the Winds. Undoubtedly seeing some implied insult in Silent's clear bias toward their younger cousin. What harm was there in directing the safer tasks their way? Who would turn down good coin simply because the task was not demanding enough?

Arlette, most likely. And most vehemently.

As she walked, the woman worked her right hand. Tight skin protesting any effort to manipulate the only recently healed flesh upon their palm. A reminder of the dangers of their work. It would never do to worry away amidst company but a lonesome walk offered ample opportunity. There was no telling just who may glean some weakness from the most mundane of gestures or habits.

Heat scarred the already ugly flat of Silent's sword in some faint hint of what befell it. Fine craftsmanship serving to hold its shape down to the carved emblem of a soaring bird upon the hilt. One marked indelibly upon the roegadyn's flesh beneath the thin gloves masking it. It was a pity that job had seen fit to stain the weapon she had spent so long forging. A blade tested and tempered throughout the realm until it had reached its final perfected state.

The ideal condition to gift it to another.

[rainbooms-and-royalty]

@heylasfas

First you predict Alicorn Twilight and now this?

[lizzieshinkicker]

flykovsky:

This is what you needed for your birthday!

WHOAAAAAAA YES THIS IS WHAT I NEED FOR MY BIRHTDAY

LEGIT MORE OF THIS PLEASE

HOLY CRAP EVERYTHING IS CANON

[myaphelion]

She didn't talk  She only walked away from everything  Doesn't matter if she won't sing.  She barely cried  She only passed us by, muted as the sky.  A silent dusk will fall tonight.  This Silent Dusk we brought to life.

This album was too good for fanart to not be made.

This is more a reference for myself than anything... but yeah

[softrocker]

Ghost Story

Silent Dusk

by: Brent L.

Nothing's As It Seems

“Bernard, where's that report!”, “Bernard, can you reschedule your 2 O'Clock?”, Bernard this, Bernard that, it's the story of my life. I always find myself at the receiving end of the stick; always getting the dead-end properties thrown on my desk. Whether it's the dilapidated farm on Sherbrook or the leaking condos on 7th, the Bossman must have it out for me or something. But today...I got the kind of all the “crap-shacks”, as we call them in the office...The old McIntyre Place at the corner of 13th St. and 4th Ave. There's been plenty of stories and rumours surrounding lights and sounds coming from the place at night, but I don't buy into that nonsense. Besides, it's my job to sell this antique freakshow to some developers who can actually build something profitable out of it, spooky or not. “I better be getting a bonus for this one bossman! It'll take some real magic to get the McIntyre Place off our hands!”. As I grabbed the keys to the house out of the file folder and left my desk, he stared at me with a puzzled look as I headed towards my car. “I didn't assign him that file”.

Courageous Folly

As I pulled into the driveway, the house came into full view. The paint had begun to peel on the aged panelling revealing a decaying reddish-brown underneath. The chimney was caving in under the forces of father time and mother nature. The windows, coated a light brown from years of sap deposits, allowed only a partial glimpse into the luxury the house once exhibited. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a curtain in the upper floor window flutter. As I blinked and stared again, nothing; it must have been my imagination. “Ooo the ghosts of the McIntyre's are out to exact their revenge!”, I said, as I chuckled to myself. Amidst my examinations of the home's once intricate beauty, I neglected to notice an elderly woman peering me at me from the front door. Strange, I could have sworn the lot was registered as deserted. “Miss!”, I exclaimed to the elderly woman, however as I began to approach, she retreated further into the door frame. As I stepped up to inquire of her whereabouts, I noticed she was nowhere to be found. “There's no way she could've gone that far...Maybe I can catch up to her”. As I contemplated whether or not to pursue her into the home, a cold draft began to chill my core. It was as if, something was vexing me to enter the house. For the sake of discovering the elderly woman's reasons for being in the home, despite it being registered as deserted, I ventured forward into the main foyer...

Falling

Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk. Each step I took seemed to bellow throughout the halls, as if with each reverberating stride, I was inviting whoever, or whatever dwelled inside to emerge from its illusive slumber. “Miss? Hello? I hope you don't mind me stepping in, I just wanted to take a minute of your time to inquire about your prope-”. Before I could finish my statement, I heard a loud thump from behind me. It was a bag, one of those old fashioned doctor bags from times gone past. I tried to rationalize with myself that it must've fallen through a rotten floor plank, but there was nothing but solid hardwood above me. I approached the bag with undue caution, stepping ever so cautiously. As I managed to force down an anxious gulp, I unlatched the hook. At that very instance, a piercing shriek had begun violating my ears. It was the most howling, agonizing sound that my eardrums ever had the pleasure to endure. I had begun to blackout from the sheer pain inflicted on my ear drums, when all of a sudden, I heard another voice, despite being noticeable softer than the screech, it was as if it's prominence overtook the howl. “Shh”. Everything went black.

Home Sweet Home

A musty cigar smell, a scratchy blanket, a chandelier, how did I end up in this bedroom? I shot up from beneath the covers and frantically raced towards the terrace doors, desperately trying to escape. Locked; the door was designed to be opened from the outside...almost as if to prevent whoever lived inside the house from leaving. Perhaps if I'm careful, I can sneak out the bedroom door. I turn the door handle, and the aged frame creaks open. The hallway's deserted, time to find a way out of here; the hall was oddly dark, considering it was 1:30 in the afternoon. A light then suddenly appeared in the distance. It must have been the person that brought me to the bedroom. “Hello?” Noticeably, the flames of the candles shift in my direction. How very peculiar, when I walked along the halls near the foyer, even my heels made a loud clunk, but with each bob of the light, there was no sound, not even a creak. At that point I had become alarmed and began to run. Thumping loudly down the hall, I turned to see if my pursuer was still giving chase; it was pitch black, I must have given them the slip. As my gaze returned frontward, I noticed a man standing in front of me with the candelabra. His face was sullen and wrinkled, hair white and glistening with a slight sheen, and his eyes appeared to be almost entirely swallowed by their sockets. As my gaze reached his feet, I noticed he had none..it was almost as if his torso trailed off into nothingness; like a half drawn image. He began to inch forward, his gaunt digits reaching to grasp me. As I began to scream, I heard a distinct “Shh” behind me. The image evaporated from my vision as I fell into nothingness.

Cold Embrace

Darkness...utter darkness. It felt as though I was floating...floating on something..bumpy. “I must be dreaming...snap out of it” As I forced my eyes open, I'm confronted by nothing but a seemingly infinite black. There seems to be nothing around, except the constant drip of something from above. Guided only by the acuteness of my ears, I blindly manoeuvre myself towards the source of the sound. As I peer up at the invisible source from above, a bit of the liquid splashes into my mouth. It's warm, thick, but with a distinct aftertaste of decay. All of my senses are revolted by the startling revelation. The liquid dripping from above was blood. I scream and run as fast as I can, crashing into numerous unseen obstacles, until I finally reach a flight of stairs. As I race up and open the door above, I'm barraged by the afternoon calm; The sun, ever so warm on my face, the breeze, the sweetest perfume I've smelled in my entire life. And then as I'm about to step out of the darkness, “Shh”. As I fall back into the blackness, I notice I was not treading on stone, but on rotting piles of the dead. Down, down, down I went, but there was no painful impact brought on by the force of gravity. Almost as if someone or something is serenely guiding me down.

All Roads have an End

Tick tock tick tock. I awake once more to the clicking of a hundred ticking clocks. All of them ever so different, but all counting down. “4 minutes to go...”. But 4 minutes till what? The door in front of me opens, thunder and lightning have begun to crackle across the darkened sky. A lone tree stands on a hill. Defeated by my attempts to escape, I begin to venture outwards. However, the storm had begun to rage furiously and as I turned back to take shelter from the storm, all of the gates and doors slam shut. A forceful wind urges me forward. Unsure of what to make of things anymore, I clamber up the hill towards the tree. From behind, I begin to hear... first small whispers, becoming increasingly louder and louder, until they're a full force cackle. I turn to see translucent figures of all shapes and sizes...pointing and laughing at me. Frightened, I hastened my

pace. As I arrived at the tree, I noticed there was someone else there, a young boy. He appeared to be crouching over something; he beckoned for me to join him. As I knelt beside him..I noticed he had a striking resemblance to someone I knew, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Full Circle

It took me a moment to register what he was looking at. It was me...but how could that be possible. I'm me, how could I be looking at myself? He stared deep into my eyes, and then it hit me...young boy , auburn hair, dimple on his right cheek, I was looking at my childhood self. He put his arm around me and moved his fingers to his lips.”Shh” as he said to me.

Revelation

I awaken at a desk in a grand library. “I must've fallen asleep while trying to find the old woman. What a strange dream!”. As I try to get up from the chair, I feel something heavy holding me down; a chain. I try to wrench it off and wiggle free, but find my efforts futile. The chair I'm sitting in spins itself around, presenting me with a mirror. My legs...they're just like that of the ghostly man I encountered outside of the bedroom; trailing into nothingness, chain binding onto something unseen. At that moment a book lands on my lap and flips to the last page. Dated 4/13/1952 in boldface print is inscribed the chilling revelation “In memory of Bernard, although the sun has set on your journey, may its dusk be tranquil and silent.

Have a Spooky Halloween.