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Description
I made this for 's contest, Mega Contest of Villainy!

EDIT: He came 5th!

*Damn it dA upload my pics nicely for once >X( zoom in for crisp detail*

Here's his story, finally released for all the world X3

Name: Scorch
Age: 21
Race: Pegasus
Notable traits: Sharp cobalt hair, bright cyan eyes, broken left wing, muscular but slim build, unwavering sense of purpose, pretty much always in a bad mood.

Origins:
Scorch was one of Baltimare Flight School’s top achievers. An ace in the air and a fast learner of mistakes. His ability to progress and adapt to a situation made him an impressive candidate, though his competitive attitude had its way of coming around to bite him in the back on more than a few occasions.

One such occasion is where our story begins. During the closing few days until final graduation from BAAA (Baltimare Academy for Advanced Aviators). Scorch was taking it easy with his childhood friend Contrail, another aspiring pegasus with a tenaciously dangerous attitude. They had bounced off each other since they first met on the open day at their first Flight School. Since then they had constantly laughed cried, supported and generally been there for one another, not to mention slowly but surely becoming strong rivals in the air. Throughout the course of their school lives they had always sought after which of them was truly the better with the air under their wings. However, the extremely disciplined ethos and the strict guidelines and punishments for ‘social’ racing in the academies were never quite worth the risk of getting caught. Many times had they had a few short drag flights down a long street or hallway, but never had they been able to truly test their mettle against one another.
Not until this day.

The two of them, neither wanting to graduate without truly understanding who deserved it more, were talking to one side a few days before the ceremony.
“What are you talking about?” exclaimed Contrail, his bright white wings aflare. “It’s always been know that I keep a cooler head than you at speed”. Scorch tutted and flicked his fringe,
“You’re kidding right? What about that time in dive practise where you bottled out only halfway down?” the red pegasus chortled. Contrail looked offended and stomped a hoof on the floor.
“It was BECAUSE I hadn’t preened my feathers correctly, I realised I wouldn’t have been able to pull up out of the dive with my wings in such a state!”
“Maybe if you’d have spent less time in the showers and styling your hair that morning you may have had a bit of time free?” Scorch continued.
Contrail stuck his tongue out at his friend as Scorch ruffled his wings smugly. They began to walk along the edge of the cloud they were standing upon, looking down onto the land.
“Hmmm, hey Scorchie?” Contrail poked. “You know, graduation’s in a few days and we still haven’t had a chance to, well, you know” he said, looking around for any eavesdropping officials.
“Haha! I already told you Connie, I don’t swing that way” jested Scorch, recieving a quick clip over the ear from Con’.
“Whatever, just cause you know you want this!” Con’ said, wiggling his flank. The two of the giggled as they looked down again.
“But yeah, you are right, Con” Scorch continued. “What say we finally settle this once and for all, no holding back!” he challenged the blue pegasus.
“No problem! The game is follow the leader.” Contrail proclaimed as Scorch extended his wings.
“By all means mi’lady, do go first!” Scorch offered to him with a bow. Before he could just finish his sentence, Contrail had already leapt from the cloud into a free fall, his wings still closed.
“Cheeky beggar!” Scorch snorted and followed after him.

Contrail had always been Scorch’s greatest rival and though he masked it, Scorch secretly hated him for it, being a direct threat to his status as most proficient flyer in the academy, not to mention the attention he attracted from his peers, and a few mares. But never before had Scorch wanted to defeat him any more than right now.
He dived after the blue pegasus, folding his wings to increase speed. As the floor rose dangerously close to them, Contrail and Scorch both spread their wings like fans, clawing at the air as it rumbled beneath them. Pulling up, they flew barrel rolls and loops behind each other, each stunt becoming more and more eccentric.
The two would exchange taunting glances as they each swapped the lead. They had been flying hard and fast for a good fifteen minutes now and they were both showing signs of heavy fatigue. However, in the heat of their rivalry, the race had become more of a physical endurance grudge match, each of them trying to mercilessly outperform the other, pulling wilder and wilder stunts as they grew more and more tired.
Before long Scorch’s competitive nerves had worn out, and he stormed through the air, hot on his rival’s tail. It was almost as if he no longer saw him as a friend to compete with, but an obstacle to overcome and smash. He closed in on Contrail, grabbing at his tail with his teeth, almost knocking him off balance.
“Woah! Hey, dude what the heck!? I though we agreed no contact!?” Contrail cried out, barreling to avoid a pillar.
“It’s time I took you off your pedestal, Flash” Scorch growled, using Contrail’s surname.
“Sc-Scorch? Bro- AGHH!” Contrail yelped as Scorch full body rammed him towards a tree. Contrail flexed his wings to pull around the obstacle.
“Get out of my sky, Flash...” Scorch grumbled as he pressed on into the forest at high speed.
“Scorch! Wait! It’s to cramped in there!” Contrail dived after him, but hung back to maintain control in the labyrinth of branches.
Scorch was now screaming through the air between the hardwood trees, rolling, banking and flipping as his face bore a powerful and determined scowl. As he flew harder and faster, the world grew quieter and dimmer.
‘ I will be the best, no one will stop me from becoming the best, I am the best, and the best is what have becom- ‘

CRACKKK!

As Scorch flew close between two trees, he dipped to avoid a branch, not seeing an overhanging trunk. His left side collided impossibly hard with the tree, tearing his leftmost wing clean from his body.
Falling out of the air in a spiral, he crashed through branches and bushes alike, scoring his face and side with deep cuts. He smashed into the floor and slid for what seemed an age before coming to rest near a small pond.
The sound of crickets and frog-chirp floated in the air as the dust settled around him. His breathing was calm as he lay there. The awful quiet ringing in his ears. He couldn’t move for the searing pain down his left side, it felt as if a hot sword had been rammed through his shoulder and left there to burn.

Even though Contrail was quick to find his downed rival and got him to hospital, Scorch’s injuries were permanent. He could not complete his graduation, nor could he ever fly ever again, and thus, has yet to have earned his cutie mark. His resolve turned wholly into disdain for Contrail. Scorch's ego placing the fault onto Contrail for pushing him so far. Scorch would never admit that his actions were his own mistake and blindly began to believe his own delusional excuses for his amputation. With Contrail moving on to graduate, and Scorch left to (as he put it) ‘rot on the ground’, Scorch vowed a vendetta against Contrail, to take from him what Scorch dictated he had had stolen from himself. However, Scorch’s rage has festered now for so long since that day, and, watching from the shadows as Contrail lives on to succeed and thrive in his new home in the Ponyville Outskirts, that now Scorch want’s nothing more than to feel his former friend’s warm, running blood on his hooves.

-------

I thought Scorch would make an excellent contender, though I need to add his backstory on this, which will be coming very soon

Scorch ©

Description
I made this for 's contest, Mega Contest of Villainy!

EDIT: He came 5th!

*Damn it dA upload my pics nicely for once >X( zoom in for crisp detail*

Here's his story, finally released for all the world X3

Name: Scorch
Age: 21
Race: Pegasus
Notable traits: Sharp cobalt hair, bright cyan eyes, broken left wing, muscular but slim build, unwavering sense of purpose, pretty much always in a bad mood.

Origins:
Scorch was one of Baltimare Flight School’s top achievers. An ace in the air and a fast learner of mistakes. His ability to progress and adapt to a situation made him an impressive candidate, though his competitive attitude had its way of coming around to bite him in the back on more than a few occasions.

One such occasion is where our story begins. During the closing few days until final graduation from BAAA (Baltimare Academy for Advanced Aviators). Scorch was taking it easy with his childhood friend Contrail, another aspiring pegasus with a tenaciously dangerous attitude. They had bounced off each other since they first met on the open day at their first Flight School. Since then they had constantly laughed cried, supported and generally been there for one another, not to mention slowly but surely becoming strong rivals in the air. Throughout the course of their school lives they had always sought after which of them was truly the better with the air under their wings. However, the extremely disciplined ethos and the strict guidelines and punishments for ‘social’ racing in the academies were never quite worth the risk of getting caught. Many times had they had a few short drag flights down a long street or hallway, but never had they been able to truly test their mettle against one another.
Not until this day.

The two of them, neither wanting to graduate without truly understanding who deserved it more, were talking to one side a few days before the ceremony.
“What are you talking about?” exclaimed Contrail, his bright white wings aflare. “It’s always been know that I keep a cooler head than you at speed”. Scorch tutted and flicked his fringe,
“You’re kidding right? What about that time in dive practise where you bottled out only halfway down?” the red pegasus chortled. Contrail looked offended and stomped a hoof on the floor.
“It was BECAUSE I hadn’t preened my feathers correctly, I realised I wouldn’t have been able to pull up out of the dive with my wings in such a state!”
“Maybe if you’d have spent less time in the showers and styling your hair that morning you may have had a bit of time free?” Scorch continued.
Contrail stuck his tongue out at his friend as Scorch ruffled his wings smugly. They began to walk along the edge of the cloud they were standing upon, looking down onto the land.
“Hmmm, hey Scorchie?” Contrail poked. “You know, graduation’s in a few days and we still haven’t had a chance to, well, you know” he said, looking around for any eavesdropping officials.
“Haha! I already told you Connie, I don’t swing that way” jested Scorch, recieving a quick clip over the ear from Con’.
“Whatever, just cause you know you want this!” Con’ said, wiggling his flank. The two of the giggled as they looked down again.
“But yeah, you are right, Con” Scorch continued. “What say we finally settle this once and for all, no holding back!” he challenged the blue pegasus.
“No problem! The game is follow the leader.” Contrail proclaimed as Scorch extended his wings.
“By all means mi’lady, do go first!” Scorch offered to him with a bow. Before he could just finish his sentence, Contrail had already leapt from the cloud into a free fall, his wings still closed.
“Cheeky beggar!” Scorch snorted and followed after him.

Contrail had always been Scorch’s greatest rival and though he masked it, Scorch secretly hated him for it, being a direct threat to his status as most proficient flyer in the academy, not to mention the attention he attracted from his peers, and a few mares. But never before had Scorch wanted to defeat him any more than right now.
He dived after the blue pegasus, folding his wings to increase speed. As the floor rose dangerously close to them, Contrail and Scorch both spread their wings like fans, clawing at the air as it rumbled beneath them. Pulling up, they flew barrel rolls and loops behind each other, each stunt becoming more and more eccentric.
The two would exchange taunting glances as they each swapped the lead. They had been flying hard and fast for a good fifteen minutes now and they were both showing signs of heavy fatigue. However, in the heat of their rivalry, the race had become more of a physical endurance grudge match, each of them trying to mercilessly outperform the other, pulling wilder and wilder stunts as they grew more and more tired.
Before long Scorch’s competitive nerves had worn out, and he stormed through the air, hot on his rival’s tail. It was almost as if he no longer saw him as a friend to compete with, but an obstacle to overcome and smash. He closed in on Contrail, grabbing at his tail with his teeth, almost knocking him off balance.
“Woah! Hey, dude what the heck!? I though we agreed no contact!?” Contrail cried out, barreling to avoid a pillar.
“It’s time I took you off your pedestal, Flash” Scorch growled, using Contrail’s surname.
“Sc-Scorch? Bro- AGHH!” Contrail yelped as Scorch full body rammed him towards a tree. Contrail flexed his wings to pull around the obstacle.
“Get out of my sky, Flash...” Scorch grumbled as he pressed on into the forest at high speed.
“Scorch! Wait! It’s to cramped in there!” Contrail dived after him, but hung back to maintain control in the labyrinth of branches.
Scorch was now screaming through the air between the hardwood trees, rolling, banking and flipping as his face bore a powerful and determined scowl. As he flew harder and faster, the world grew quieter and dimmer.
‘ I will be the best, no one will stop me from becoming the best, I am the best, and the best is what have becom- ‘

CRACKKK!

As Scorch flew close between two trees, he dipped to avoid a branch, not seeing an overhanging trunk. His left side collided impossibly hard with the tree, tearing his leftmost wing clean from his body.
Falling out of the air in a spiral, he crashed through branches and bushes alike, scoring his face and side with deep cuts. He smashed into the floor and slid for what seemed an age before coming to rest near a small pond.
The sound of crickets and frog-chirp floated in the air as the dust settled around him. His breathing was calm as he lay there. The awful quiet ringing in his ears. He couldn’t move for the searing pain down his left side, it felt as if a hot sword had been rammed through his shoulder and left there to burn.

Even though Contrail was quick to find his downed rival and got him to hospital, Scorch’s injuries were permanent. He could not complete his graduation, nor could he ever fly ever again, and thus, has yet to have earned his cutie mark. His resolve turned wholly into disdain for Contrail. Scorch's ego placing the fault onto Contrail for pushing him so far. Scorch would never admit that his actions were his own mistake and blindly began to believe his own delusional excuses for his amputation. With Contrail moving on to graduate, and Scorch left to (as he put it) ‘rot on the ground’, Scorch vowed a vendetta against Contrail, to take from him what Scorch dictated he had had stolen from himself. However, Scorch’s rage has festered now for so long since that day, and, watching from the shadows as Contrail lives on to succeed and thrive in his new home in the Ponyville Outskirts, that now Scorch want’s nothing more than to feel his former friend’s warm, running blood on his hooves.

-------

I thought Scorch would make an excellent contender, though I need to add his backstory on this, which will be coming very soon

Scorch ©