((you can ignore the human sketches; that's just reference as to what he'd look like as a person))Gender:
Fairly short, cropped, and cerulean blue. The wind likes to run its fingers messily through his hair-- he's hardly ever seen with it combed down or tamed.Tail:
His tail is quite long, but since he flies so much, it is often messy-- like his mane, it is always being touched by the wind.Eyes:
A deep cerulean blue, one of the only features he shares with his sister.Body:
His coat is a pale, gray-blue. He has long legs and a pair of large wings. The tips of his hooves tend to be darker than the rest of his body.Cutie Mark:
A gray cloud with a pair of black wings and two orange-yellow thunderbolts protruding from it.Age:
Thundershot didn't like talking much-- probably because he was so awkward with words. His features seemed to be constantly etched into a handsome scowl and even the slightest upward curve of his lips was a rare, seldom-seen sight. He is frustrated easily and has trouble explaining his emotions-- he can't seem to get the words out right. It's like he's always too straight-to-the-point or something, or too harsh, or maybe he just doesn't think carefully about what he's going to say. He means well, though--always does-- but he isn't so good with words. He doesn't like talking, anyway. He's more of the brooding type, the kind that answers with short, blunt sentences or grunts. Thundershot isn't exactly social and dislikes being around too many ponies at once. Though he comes across as a bit intimidating or aloof, he's actually quite warm-hearted. You just have to get through the barrier he places between himself and the rest of the world, and once you do, he proves to be shockingly loyal and warm-hearted. He has an agile mind and calculates things quickly. Despite his impressive intelligence, he's known more for his physical abilities. He has a tendency to show off when flying, sometimes. He can be quite competitive and sports bring out the best in him-- that's usually when somepony even has a chance of catching a glimpse of that ever-so-elusive smile of his. (He'll never admit this, but he has a bit of a soft spot for unicorns. Maybe it's the magic. And he'll never admit this either, but he's also a big softie for little animals.) Thundershot is also dangerously protective of his sister, Cloudspree, though he has no need to be-- she's more than capable of handling herself. He can be kind of oblivious to sarcasm and other things; sometimes he has trouble reading the mood. And speaking of reading... he secretly fancies those cheesy romance novels. XDLikes:
Unicorns, flying, open space, visiting his younger sister, sleepingDislikes:
Crowded areas, talking, having to start conversationsHistory:
Thundershot's mother had died only months after Cloudspree's birth. It was the utter fatigue-- it had left her broken, weak, barely hanging onto life. And then it finally slipped out of her reach. His father was often away from home and busy in Canterlot because of his job, which left a young Thundershot and his sister to the care of his uncle and aunt in Manehattan. It was fortunate that his family was strikingly wealthy and he could live in the safe side of the bright city. He grew up under strict rules and principles of chivalry, always taught to treat mares and fillies well. His uncle and his aunt were a big part of his development and growth, always there to support him. And yet he couldn't help but yearn for the return of his mother, though he knew it was impossible. He was a bit of a crybaby back then, hardly like the stony-faced stallion he is now. He'd used to get bullied often and cry like a little foal (of course, that was what he was, but being just a foal meant he'd thought himself to be a stallion). It was always his younger sister, though, that protected him. Cloudspree's flaming red tail and back were the only things he'd see through his tear-blurred eyes. He could hear her yelling at the bullies, always somehow managing to intimidate them, despite the fact that her body was several hooves smaller and shorter than his bullies. As Thundershot got older, though, he outgrew the crybaby and took it upon himself to protect his sister like she had done him when he was younger, growing especially concerned for her after she'd injured herself during a flying competition. She had always been so gifted with her wings-- agile and elegant, poised, precise, amazingly quick. Of course, his flying skills weren't too shabby either, but Cloudspree possessed raw talent, as opposed to his skill, which had taken years and years of practicing and coping with failure (this was a source of the past bullying; apparently it had been funny to watch him repeatedly hurt himself and he went over flying sequences). When she had been wounded, however, and determined to never fly again, he became devoted to protecting her. She just seemed so vulnerable without using her wings, though that was far from the truth. It's just... she was the spitting image of his mother, save for her blue eyes, since mum had green ones. He remembered how his mother lost her ability to fly as she became weaker and weaker, which eventually lead to her death..
His uncle and aunt sent him to Cloudsdale against his will; he wanted to stay in Manehattan, with his sister. But they said something about his utter determination and that he had too much potential and they refused to let him waste it here. He could train and improve his flying in Cloudsdale. He achieve what he'd worked years for! Thundershot was just too attached to guarding his sister to pursue his own ambitions, but he was swayed slightly when she had insisted that he go. Still, he refused. Not that it made a difference, since he was
sent away anyway. He was admitted into a flying academy, which he graduated with impressive marks. He resides in Cloudsdale now, but visits his sister at her new home in Canterlot as often as he can. Example RP segment:
It is pouring rain outside. Your OC spots the light of a tavern up ahead. The tavern is filled with ponies that your OC doesn't know. Given your OC’s personality, compose a brief narrative in which your OC identifies and addresses the situation.
He held great contempt for these places, he did. Thundershot warily eyed the glow of the tavern, his ears pressing flat against his head as he thought about entering the building. He could hear the muffled noise from here-- there was loud, unabashed chortling and distinct chatter. He glared up at the clouds above, seriously contemplating flying up there and popping an open, dry spot in the middle for himself. But he couldn't. This storm had been scheduled for a while, and he simply wasn't allowed to mess with it. He blew an irritated sigh and trudged over to the tavern, his mane matted to his neck and his tail trailing after him, soaked. He entered the tavern silently, inwardly grateful he was no longer being rained on. Thundershot winced at the loudness of the place, though-- so many ponies were here, socializing, talking, gossiping, drinking, eating... He felt out of place, uncomfortable. Why did he
have to deal with such a situation? Why couldn't it be his sister, Cloudspree, who was a ponies pony, who was easy to talk to? Annoyed, he slinked over to the counter, careful to avoid conversation with other ponies. He exchanged few words with the waitress, ordering a cold soda. He sighed as he indulged in his drink, doing his best to ignore the crowdedness of the tavern.
"Hiya! How you doin'? 'Sa rainy day today, ain't it? How are you liking Ponyville? I haven't seen you around before! The name's Pi--"
"You're talking too fast," Thundershot muttered, eying the talkative pink pony in seated next to him. She grinned at him and he tentatively scooted a bit farther away from her; she looked as if she threatened to burst into sunshine and rainbows and sparkles in a matter of seconds.
"Sorry," she said slowly, drawing the word out exaggeratedly as she took pauses between each syllable, "I didn't mean to talk so fast. It's just that I'm so happy to meet you. Because you're new. In fact, we should have a hello-welcome-to-Ponyville party for you!" Her voice began to speed up. "Oh, it'll be so much fun! There'll be balloonsandcandyandcakeandpunch-- oh, I mean the fruit punch, not the punch punch, because that would be a terrible way to welcome you and it would hurt! And speaking of things that hurt, have you ever been bitten before by an alligator? Let me tell you that it would hurt a LOT if it's not a toothless one! Mine is toothless! His name is Gummy and he likes parties just as much as I do, but he pops balloons a lot and that scares my friend Fluttersh-- hey, mister, where are you going?"
"Home," Thundershot grunted loudly as he hurried out of the building. She had been so talkative-- rambling on and on about gum and balloons and crocodiles (or maybe it was alligators?)-- that Thundershot had been getting desperate to leave. He was just uncomfortable. He didn't know what to say or how to keep the conversation going. He'd felt awkward, and, and...
His cerulean eyes darted upward. The rain had been reduced to a gentle drizzle, now. After stretching his wings slightly as he closed the door to the noisy tavern, he took off into the clouds, headed for Cloudsdale.
As he soared through the sky, Thundershot mentally took an oath to avoid bouncy, curly-haired, pink earth ponies for possibly the rest of his life. And toothless crocodiles.