Asylum
Chapter 9
Twilight’s eyes fluttered at the soft squeak of unoiled metal hinges grinding together. Slowly, she raised her head off the floor, her vision unfocused and blurry. She blinked as the door to her room swung open, her thoughts as cold and indistinct as a morning mist. She lifted a hoof and rubbed away some of the grime left from the previous night’s tears. She couldn’t remember falling back asleep.
When she managed to return her attention to the source of the noise she discovered two ponies framed in the doorway. Someone said something. Twilight shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs. They repeated themselves, the noise garbled and distant.
“I don’t understand,” Twilight croaked.
One of the ponies – a pale yellow mare – took a step closer. “Are you okay, Twilight?” she asked, her voice pushing through the fog that shrouded her thoughts. Recognition teased the edges of Twilight’s mind. A nurse’s cap rested atop her pale blue mane, and her familiar face was covered in far too much makeup – an attempt to mask the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. Twilight had seen her before, but a name eluded her. Did I see her around the hospital, or was it back in Ponyville? Which life is she from? Twilight shivered when she was unable to answer herself.
Pushing the questions aside for later she looked down at herself. She lay where she had passed out the night before, the awkward position and hard tile floor explaining the dull ache in her limbs. Her coat was matted in places with a salty mixture of sweat and tears. Her eyes and throat felt raw. She was cold, fatigued, and a long way from home. She glanced back up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
The nurse hurried over as Twilight attempted to stand. “Careful, honey,” she cautioned, helping Twilight to her hooves. “Now, what happened? Why were you on the floor?”
Twilight averted her gaze. “I... I had a bad dream,” she whispered, sounding raspy and weak. “I fell out of bed and I just, I couldn’t...” Her voice trailed away.
“Oh, you poor thing,” the nurse said as she picked up the damp sheets and deposited them on the bed. She sounded sincere enough to Twilight’s ears, although it could be hard to tell when every one of them forced it so often. “Well, we’ve got your morning medication coming. It should help you feel better. Once we’ve taken care of inspections, you’ll get a chance to go to the bathroom and freshen up.”
Part of Twilight tried to rekindle her earlier passion. It wanted her to get angry and ask questions. What were in those drugs? Why did she need to be medicated regularly? What were they doing to her? The flame flickered and dimmed, threatening to go out completely. Her whole body ached from her unnatural sleeping position on the hard tiles. Her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Her body ached for something to take the pain away, something that could give her even momentary relief. Keeping her mouth shut, Twilight nodded in understanding. She wouldn’t give in and ask for painkillers. She wasn’t going to trust anything they could give her.
The nurse’s expression softened. “We were told about your situation this morning. And it’s pretty obvious that you had more than a bad dream.” Twilight flinched slightly when she reached out, but the nurse ignored it, giving her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “My advice is to talk to somepony about it.”
Twilight glanced away. “I don’t really–”
“I know you don’t feel like it right now,” she interrupted, “but you need to talk to somepony. If you keep everything bottled up inside, you only end up hurting yourself.”
The nurse’s words were painfully familiar, drawing out memories she would rather remain buried. The impostor's vicious smile and cruel words echoed in her mind. “You’re hurting yourself by holding onto your delusions.”
Twilight shivered. “I... I’ll think about it,” she offered, giving the nurse a weak smile.
“Please do,” the other mare said with a nod, dropping her hoof back to the floor. She eyed Twilight’s disheveled bed. “And don’t worry about making your bed this morning. Just leave the sheets on the mattress, and we’ll have the custodians come by and change them for you. You just worry about getting ready for your morning checks.”
“What do you mean?”
The nurse frowned for a moment before her mouth opened in recognition. “Oh, I’m sorry, Twilight. I forgot that you’re dealing with some memory issues.” She smiled apologetically. “Like I said, we were only told about your special condition this morning. Originally, Doctor Applejack was supposed to be here when you got up, to help you get acclimated to the schedule again. But after yesterday, well, she wasn’t going to be able to make it in so early.”
“Is she okay?” asked Twilight, honest concern coloring her otherwise flat tone.
“She’s gonna be fine,” the nurse said. “She had to get her eyes inspected again, just to be sure she was going to be able to work today. I was told she’ll meet up with you at breakfast. Until then, I’ll be helping you along and getting you back into the routine of things.”
Her words were like a beam of warm light cutting through the shadows, bringing Twilight a measure of welcome relief. “That’s good,” she replied. Turning her head she finally noticed the orderly standing just outside, watching the two mares as he held the door open. Some of her good cheer evaporated. “So... what do I need to do, then?”
“I printed off a copy of your schedule for you.” The nurse pulled a folded sheet of paper from a pocket. As she drew closer, Twilight glanced at the nurse’s name tag. Coldheart.
Memories of an identical nurse in an identical outfit working at Ponyville’s hospital sprang up in Twilight’s mind, forming mirror images of one another. Which one is the real one? she asked forlornly as she stared at the nurses. A chill passed up her spine as her friends appeared in stereo, each one standing beside her twin. They were a warped dichotomy, the warm smiles of the friends she knew juxtaposed against the jagged sneers of the friends from her dream. The question reverberated through her mind again. Which one is real?
Twilight’s eyes narrowed as she focused her anger inward, crushing the images into oblivion. No. No more doubts. I know which one is real, she told herself, the last of the ice melting away as the fires of firm conviction blossomed within her chest.
Nurse Coldheart failed to notice the slight shift in Twilight’s expression. “As you can see, It lists all your activities for the day.” She favored her with another smile as Twilight took the offered schedule. “We all know how much you like to have everything neat and organized, after all.”
Twilight ignored the familiar patronizing tone and unfolded the paper. It was a simple series of blocks in faded black ink: a copy of a copy, with hoofwritten corrections done in pencil. It was unorganized and almost illegible; so much so that Twilight felt a sudden desire to rewrite the thing herself. She suppressed the urge, forcing herself to pay attention as the the older pony gestured at the top of the paper. “We’re doing morning checks right now. You need to bring along your grooming bag and a change of clothes.”
“Clothes?” Twilight glanced down at herself, having forgotten she was even wearing anything. The patient’s gown was a drab, short-sleeved affair with BMPH spelled out in humorless block letters on the back, the shape bringing to mind the vests everypony wore during Winter Wrap Up. The normally loose fabric clung to her body, the shirt as damp as her sheets. They had probably started their life the same green color as the walls, but years of indiscriminate bleaching and heavy-duty washing had left them faded and worn out. An apt metaphor for some of the ponies around here, Twilight thought, lifting her head and sparing a look at the wrinkles the nurse tried to hide with makeup. “Oh. So, where do I get a change of clothes?”
The nurse gestured to a patch of bare wall near the door, guiding Twilight’s eyes to a small lever she had somehow missed the night before. “In here,” said Coldheart as she opened the closet door, revealing two small shelves. The top shelf held a small stack of green fabric; the bottom shelf held an empty container. “Clean shirts go on top, dirty ones go in the basket,” she said, handing Twilight a replacement shirt before closing the door. “Pretty self-explanatory.”
Twilight nodded, already creating a mental version of the daily routine. Part of her wanted to know the schedule forwards and backwards because it made her more comfortable having her day planned out into neat little boxes. As a filly, her family had given her no small amount of teasing for her insistence on crafting her own crayon schedules for their days out together.
But there was another, very different part of her that valued memorizing her schedule as well. It was the part that refused to accept anything to dull her pain, that narrowed its eyes every time she was talked down too, that reminded her how she was trapped in a lie and couldn’t trust anyone. It saw the schedule as something useful, one small tool amongst thousands, a tiny scrap of information she needed if she were to free herself – and there was always more to learn. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Just don’t dawdle once the staff wakes you up. You’ve been good about it in the past, but, well, due to your condition, it’s worth telling you again. We’re on a schedule, after all, and there are a lot of patients on this ward. That means lots of ponies that we have to get up, get showered, and get medicated.” Her expression turned to iron. “We cannot – and will not – tolerate any delays,” the nurse emphasized. She stared at Twilight for a moment before continuing, some levity working its way back into her voice. “Now, because of your condition, I’m going to walk you through everything as if you were a new patient. At least, up until we meet up with Doctor Applejack, that is. That way I can help you out and make sure you don’t get in any trouble.”
“That’s probably for the best,” said Twilight, remembering how angry the nurses had gotten when she had stepped into the wrong line after dinner. Their disapproving faces shifted into those of her friends. She flinched. Calling up her convictions, she pushed the doubt aside, forcing her attention back onto the mare in front of her. “I... don’t want to cause any fuss.”
“That’s what I’m here for: to make sure things go as smoothly as possible. The doctors said your memories should come back with time, but until then it’s best to keep treating this like it’s your first day all over again. So, once the patients have made their beds and picked up their things, they all line up outside for the morning checks,” she spoke over her shoulder, gesturing for Twilight to follow as she walked past the orderly holding open the door. “It lets us know exactly when everyone is ready. So, come along, and we'll get that all taken care of.”
Twilight hesitated at the entrance, fearing what terrors and tribulations another day would bring. The thought of confronting more ponies from her past drove a sliver of cold dread into her breast. Part of her longed for nothing more than to stay locked in her room, safe from the emotional turmoil of finding her friends trapped within the same broken world.
You’re ready for this, she told herself, fighting against the icey apprehension. It was just a nightmare. You can’t let a bad dream turn you into a frightened little foal. Those weren’t your friends. You are stronger than this. Each thought was delivered like a hammer against an anvil, bursting with fire and confidence. They left no room for doubt.
Twilight didn’t know if she believed a single word.
Lifting a trembling hoof, she stepped over the threshold.
Twilight couldn’t tell if she were nervous or relieved to be standing in line with a bunch of strangers. Ever since she had come face to face with Applejack, she had wondered if the absence of familiar faces would have been a blessing. Having her friends close could be comforting, but the knowledge that they were trapped with her made it a double-edged sword. A definitive answer continued to elude her.
“Hello, Twilight.”
No. Don’t engage her.
She surreptitiously turned her head and glanced down the row of patients. She felt like she had gone to a party and ended up at the wrong address. The rest of the patients were unknowns, ponies she hadn’t noticed around Broadhoof and couldn’t remember from Ponyville. And like slowly realizing she was at the wrong party, she felt herself growing more anxious the longer she went without locating a friendly face. She didn’t know anypony there.
That’s not exactly true, she admitted. A few yards away were two ponies she did know: Coldheart and Bon Bon. The nurses were talking quietly amongst themselves while a pair of orderlies ensured each room was empty. The rest of the staff were as foreign as the patients, which offered little reassurance.
“Twilight?”
Ignore her and she’ll stop talking.
After escorting her out of her room, Coldheart had guided Twilight to a spot along the wall, leaving her there with orders to stay put until she got back. The rest of the ward’s patients had begun emerging from their rooms as soon as Coldheart had trotted away, each one carrying a small grooming kit and a change of clothing. Quietly they had taken up positions abreast of Twilight, forming a close line along the wall behind her.
A very close line.
She examined the two ponies on either side of her, avoiding eye contact and doing her best to keep from drawing attention to herself. Although they had been standing next to her for a few minutes without doing anything threatening, apprehension still tingled beneath her hooves. She had no problem admitting that they made her nervous. It was entirely justifiable; they were mental patients, after all.
“Twilight, darling?”
She’ll take the hint eventually and leave you alone.
The pegasus to her left coughed. He certainly was eye catching, his brilliant orange coat and white mane almost impossible to ignore. Once, he had probably appreciated the attention. His high cheekbones and long limbs should have given him a noble air, but whatever had sent him to Broadhoof had taken his good looks as well as his sanity. A gaunt and unkempt figure, there were deep bags beneath his bloodshot eyes, just visible beneath his rat’s nest of a mane. Standing motionless and staring at the floor, he could have been mistaken for a statue if it weren’t for his assortment of nervous tics and involuntary spasms. Mumbling something beneath his breath he continued look down, his eyes never wavering from the spot between his hooves.
“Twilight!”
Her patience snapped. “What?” Twilight hissed as she jerked her head to the right, glaring at the mare beside her. “What is it?”
The other unicorn’s face split into a broad grin. “Oh, it’s nothing, my dear. I was just saying hello, and you weren’t responding,” she replied cheerfully. Despite being no older than Twilight, she spoke with the smooth sophistication of an educated Canterlot socialite. However, her twitching tail and inability to sit still betrayed any attempt at poise and grace. “So I thought it best if I ensured that you had indeed heard me. And I’m so pleased that you did, I really am.”
Twilight groaned. Can’t I be allowed to suffer in quiet dignity? she thought, eyeing her neighbor. The white unicorn was perched close enough that her perfume was nearly overwhelming, making Twilight feel like an entire flower garden had invaded her nostrils. She stood in stark contrast to the disheveled Twilight, her clothing spotless and her silvery mane crafted into the sort of elegant bun Rarity would have admired.
She seemed to notice the discrepancy between their appearances at the same moment. “My word! Twilight, you look a fright. Are you alright?” For once her eyes had stopped roaming around the room. Instead, she stared at Twilight with a look of worried revulsion, like one might give a crying foal with a leaking diaper. She took a step back. “I mean, look at what has happened to you. You look positively horrendous!”
Twilight sighed, any attempts at keeping to herself looking more futile by the minute. “I had a rough night,” she stated irritably before looking away.
“Well then, it’s a blessing that we are about to head to the spa. I would just die with shame if I were to appear in public looking like some sort of... of... indigent!” She spat the last word with distaste.
Twilight glanced back, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Spa?”
“Spa, bathing house, whatever they wish to call the facilities here.” She sniffed dismissively, seemingly unaware that she was tapping her hoof against the floor. “Of course, the facilities at this sanitarium are really quite lacking. I’ve already written my parents about it. More than once, in fact. They are obviously getting overcharged, whatever they are paying.”
Twilight lifted an eyebrow. “Sanitarium? Do you mean like a health resort?”
“Well, of course, darling,” the other mare said, rolling her eyes. “What else? But I can understand your confusion. After all, this is hardly any sort of resort. The service is terrible, the other guests are often members of the lower classes or crude degenerates,” she glanced at the silent stallion on the other side of Twilight with another contemptuous sniff, “and the attendants are quite bossy and uncouth, the lot of them. It is a disgrace.”
“I see,” Twilight replied as the pieces began to fall into place. “So, why did you come to this, ah, resort?”
“It’s for my health. I have a very delicate constitution, you see. My parents sent me away to rest and recuperate after some dreadful events back in Canterlot.” She waved a hoof dismissively. “It was all just slander and rumor, but you know how jealous and petty other ponies can be, I’m sure.” She brought her wandering eyes back to Twilight. “I’m a student at Saint Tulip’s School for Mares,” she added, lifting her head proudly. “I’m certain you’ve heard of it.”
Twilight mumbled something noncommittal, but the other mare continued over her.
“Well, my parents thought it would be for the best if I took a sabbatical from boarding school and left the capital for a while, so we could let the press die down. It is absolutely appalling what the newspapers will print these days. Being the heiress of the Silver family does make one the target for gossip and tabloid rumors from time to time, but those scoundrels had the gall to publish such terrible lies about me. But then, they were just repeating what those horrid beasts who ran the school said. They told everypony I was a corrupting influence upon the other mares, and accused me of taking advantage of my fellow students. Me! Can you believe anything so absurd?” She covered her mouth with a carefully maintained hoof as she laughed, the polite gesture of noble grace betrayed by the manic glint in her eyes.
“Not at all...” Twilight replied hesitantly. She took a shuffling step backwards, desperate to put a little more distance between herself and the mare’s wide and unblinking stare.
“I mean, I am not some disgusting fillyfooler! I come from a good family. It’s just lies and- and libelous assumptions based upon misunderstandings!” She trembled slightly as a smile spread across her face. “But that is all in the past. Daddy is going to send for me as soon as it is prudent for me to return to Canterlot. Scandals like that, even when they are absolute fabrications, take time to fade away. I just know that he has been working his hooves to the bone clearing my good name. It shan't be long before I’m able to return home to my family. It will be so very nice to see mother and father again.” The mare closed her mouth, grinning happily as she stared at Twilight.
Shifting her weight from side to side, Twilight averted her eyes, looking anywhere but at the other mare. Twilight’s relief at her silence quickly soured, the quiet only deepening the awkwardness between them until it became an almost physical force pressing down upon her. “So, how long until you get to leave, do you think?” she eventually asked, the unwanted conversation preferable to the oppressive quiet.
“Oh, it won’t be long now, I can assure you.” Her hoof resumed tapping the tile floor erratically, as if keeping the beat to a tuneless song only she could hear. “It has been a few years already, but I’ve been writing to daddy almost every week. As soon as he responds to one of my letters, then I will know for sure. These sorts of things just take time, really.” She glanced around the hallway. “I will be glad to be away from here. It is just not a place a true Lady should spend much time in.”
Twilight simply nodded in agreement, thankful that the mare was content to stare elsewhere. That was an ordeal, she thought, exhaling slowly. It felt like someone had taken Rarity’s sophistication and Pinkie Pie’s boundless energy and blended them together, with an extra cup of crazy thrown into the mix.
A chill passed down her spine at the thought of her friends. Memories of the insults they had hurled at her brought back some of the morning’s anxieties. Her head throbbed with a powerful ache, but she endured it. It was only a nightmare. Your friends still love you, she repeated to herself, focusing her thoughts away from the doubt that threatened to seep back into her mind. It was only a nightmare. Your friends still love you.
Was it only a nightmare? her subconscious treacherously fired back.
She maintained the chant until she spotted Bon Bon and Coldheart making their way along the row of ponies, handing each patient two small paper cups and watching them consume the contents carefully. Pills and water, Twilight assumed, eyeing the cups with a sense of apprehension. Once the nurses were satisfied they moved on down the line while an orderly escorted the patient to the bathroom.
Twilight frowned. The apprehension she understood, but there was something else. She was staring at the cups with a growing desire, a revelation she found disquieting. Still, she was unable to glance away, only more aware of the ache in her skull as they nurses drew closer. Her thoughts passed back to the last time she had been given medication – and the painkillers they had included. You don’t have to feel pain, a voice whispered insidiously, a low hiss that seemed to come from everywhere at once and nowhere at all. They can help it stop hurting. You don’t need much to make you forget that bump on your head. A little painkiller isn’t going to affect anything. It’s nothing at all. It was a persuasive argument. If she were back home, she would have reached for the painkillers long ago. What problem was there in asking them to give her what she would have given herself?
Twilight shook her head from side to side as if to physically clear away the treacherous haze gripping her thoughts. Stop thinking like that! she snarled at herself. I’m not so cowardly and desperate that I’m going to ask them to drug me. I’m responsible for more than myself. My friends need me to stay strong. They don’t deserve to live this life anymore than I do. This is about them as much as it is about me. Twilight drew up straighter, watching the approaching nurses with a renewed sense of wary disdain. She took strength from her distrust, using it to feed her convictions. This is about Applejack’s family, and Pinkie Pie’s scars, and Rainbow Dash’s anger, and everything else wrong with this world. I might be the only pony that remembers how things are supposed to be. I can’t surrender, because there isn’t anypony else they can count on. I need to keep focused for the sake of my friends.
A disgusting grin spread wide in her memories. Before it could speak Twilight brought a mental hoof down onto the image, smashing it into a million glittering shards. The fractured smile melted away like snowflakes under a hot sun.
I am not going to let some nightmare break my will. Whatever is happening, whatever caused this, I will not give in to self-doubt. I’ll prove to myself – to everyone – that I do not just hurt other ponies. Friendship is magic, and I am friends with the elements of harmony. We can return this world to the way it should be. The anger at her imprisonment, her nightmares, the fates of her friends, at the whole topsy-turvy world she was trapped in burned away more of her insecurity, filling her with the warmth of her firm determination. For the first time since she had awoken that day, Twilight felt fully in control of her thoughts. She basked in her triumph, enjoying her small victory.
She didn’t get to enjoy it for long. “So Twilight, did you hear anything about that terrible fracas during dinner yesterday?”
The question pulled Twilight out of her introspective reverie. Warily glancing over at the other mare, Twilight relaxed ever so slightly once she noticed the unicorn had returned to something approaching her initially calm demeanour. “Hmm? Oh, yes, I... heard some things about it.”
“I should hope so. It ruined what was already a pitiful excuse for a meal. It isn’t enough that we have to sit shoulder to shoulder with the ill and destitute. No, now we have to deal with uncultured ponies fighting each other.”
Twilight glanced past the mare as Bon Bon and Coldheart finally reached the two unicorns. A tired looking orderly walked along with them, a large tray holding dozens of identical paper cups balanced carefully in his mouth. Noticing the shift in attention, the unicorn followed Twilight’s gaze. The corners of her mouth dropped the instant her eyes fell upon the nurses. “It is a disgrace how poorly run this establishment is,” she said, raising her voice as she pretended she was still talking just to Twilight. She lifted her chin in a display of haughty disapproval that matched Twilight’s memories of the worst sort of Canterlot’s elite. “I will have some scathing things to say about this place, Twilight, let me tell you!”
The two earth ponies ignored her remarks, maintaining their forced cheerfulness. “Hello Silver Glow, how are you doing this morning?” Bon Bon asked, finally naming Twilight’s talkative neighbor.
“That is Miss Glow to you,” she stated brusquely. Bon Bon’s smile didn’t even waver, but the lines on Coldheart’s face deepened. Still, Twilight watched as they adjusted their stances slightly, an almost imperceptible shift towards a more aggressive posture. Silver Glow continued to admonish the two nurses, either failing to notice their responses or – more likely, in Twilight’s opinion – not caring what they thought. “And I am once again appalled and dismayed by the conditions here at Broadhoof,” she declared, lightly stamping one hoof for emphasis. “When we aren’t forced to follow your inane schedules, we have to endure the company of the sort of riff-raff that should never have been admitted here. I have half a mind to make another complaint to the administrators about the quality of care I am receiving.”
“Well, if you feel strongly about it, you can always bring it up in group therapy, or when you see your doctor,” said Coldheart, the dry and exasperated tone making it clear she had repeated the same message more than once. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “But regardless of your decision, you still have to take your medicine and let us complete our inspections.”
Silver Glow eyed both nurses contemptuously. “Fine,” she said with a sniff, making sure they understood that she was doing them a favor. Reluctantly she took the cup from Bon Bon’s hoof and swallowed her medication, washing the pills down with a mouthful of water.
“Open up,” Bon Bon said. With an exaggerated roll of her eyes Silver opened her mouth wide, allowing the nurse to peer inside and ensure she wasn’t squirreling the pills away in her cheeks. Twilight had a strong suspicion that Bon Bon took longer inspecting the unicorn’s mouth than was strictly necessary. Silver’s jaw began to tremble slightly as time dragged on. “All clear,” the nurse eventually declared, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Oh well, better luck next time.”
Silver’s mouth snapped shut with a soft click. Her glare lingered on Bon Bon as she massaged her jaw. Bon Bon ignored the anger directed her way, making no attempt to hide her amused smirk as she trotted over to Twilight. She met Twilight’s gaze and winked playfully. Twilight grinned back.
“Okay Silver Glow, time for the horn inspection,” said Coldheart, stressing the name as she took up the departing nurse’s position in front of the glowering mare.
“Just be quick about it, will you?” said Silver as she lifted her snout up into the air. “I already feel soiled enough as it is. I don’t appreciate having some earth pony’s dirty hooves all over my face. And that heavy thing you force me to wear on my horn never seems to get clean.”
Distracted watching Bon Bon pluck her medication from the orderly’s tray, it took a heartbeat before Silver’s words registered in Twilight’s mind. Something on her horn? She snapped her head around as Coldheart reached up towards Silver’s horn – a horn she finally realized was sheathed with a familiar piece of bulky white fabric. How did I miss that? she thought as she stared at the magical suppressor.
Twilight grew more conscious of the weight upon her own horn as Coldheart carefully examined Silver’s. She glanced to her left, quickly spotting another unicorn a few patients down, a suppressor strangling his horn as well. She checked the rest of the unicorns, unnerved but unsurprised to note that each horn was hidden behind a fabric scabbard. Do they do that to all the unicorns they have here? No, I swear I saw patients during dinner who didn’t have them covered. Right? Unable to answer her question, Twilight returned her gaze to Bon Bon.
The nurse turned away from the orderly, one hoof holding a pair of paper cups. “Here you go, Twilight. This should help you feel a little better,” said Bon Bon with a smile, gesturing at the one filled with the multicolored medication.
Despite her misgivings she quietly accepted the the cup. Some of the fire she had nurtured was snuffed out in a shower of cold resignation. What could she do? Taking the medication was bad, but the punishment for refusing was worse – Bon Bon had made that point absolutely clear the previous night. Despite her submission being inevitable there was still a moment’s hesitation. She sighed. This isn’t surrender, she told herself as she popped the pills into her mouth, following them up a second later with a lukewarm water chaser. It’s just doing what is prudent and necessary.
“Now go ahead and open your mouth for me, Twilight. I just need to make sure you swallowed your medicine, okay?” Bon Bon asked, her broad smile leaving Twilight unsure as to how much of her cheerful personality was sincere, and how much was more artificial bonhomie.
Obediently she opened her mouth wide. Having another pony suspiciously examining the inside of her mouth was not a pleasant experience, but she did her best to endure it. Like the medicine, it couldn’t be helped. These indignities don’t matter. I need to focus on my goals, she reminded herself, holding back her temper. Play along for now and focus on learning what you can. After just a few seconds Bon Bon gave her the all clear, confirming Twilight’s suspicions about her neighbors lengthy examination.
As Bon Bon stepped away Twilight glanced to her right, half expecting to see Silver Glow giving her a petulant glare. Instead, the mare was already trotting away, her head held stiffly in the air, her tail swishing irritably from side to side. Nurse Coldheart remained close by but had her back to Twilight, talking to a younger nurse that must have arrived when Twilight was distracted. Coldheart gestured for her to go with Bon Bon before finally turning around again. “Okay Twilight, it’s your turn,” she said as she shuffled closer. “I’ll need to check to make sure the magical suppressor is still intact. It’s something we do every morning, but doesn’t take long. And once I’m done, I’ll escort you to the bathroom myself.”
Twilight glanced at the dozen ponies still lined up with her. “Don’t you have other patients to examine?”
“I’m going to let the new girl finish up with Bon Bon.” She tilted her head toward the other nurse. “She could use some more practical experience, and these examinations are a good way to ease ponies into things.” Her painted face brightened. “Besides, I want to stick with you until we meet Doctor AJ. That way I can help you out and answer your questions, so we can make sure everything goes smoothly. Doesn’t that sound good?”
“Well, I am curious about one thing,” said Twilight, taking the opportunity to voice the question that had been percolating at the back of her mind. “Do all the unicorns have to wear these magical silencers?”
“Well, no. Not all unicorns have to wear them,” said Coldheart, picking her words with obvious care as she played her hoof over the suppressor. She lightly tugged at the fabric and inspected the buckles, making sure nothing was torn or loose. “Unicorns only have to wear them when their magical abilities threaten their health and safety.”
“So what you’re saying is that you do it to the dangerous ponies, the ones you’re worried might use their magic to escape or attack somepony,” she said, unable to keep some of her bitterness from seeping into her tone. “I understand; it makes perfect sense. After all, an insane unicorn could do a lot of damage. You need to protect yourself and the other patients from the really crazy ones.”
Coldheart frowned. “Twilight, we don’t appreciate terms like ‘crazy’ or ‘insane’ around here,” she chided, mild displeasure written on her powdered face. “And you're wrong. It’s not just for safety, but for the wellbeing of our patients. Many unicorns need to have their magical connection interrupted because of their illnesses, and not over fears about what they might do if they could cast spells. There are many diseases and disorders that can react negatively to magical usage.”
Twilight blinked, honestly surprised by the nurse’s words. Small snippets from her studies floated to the surface of her mind, half-remembered footnotes and passing references to the role of magic in certain ailments. It had never been an area she had closely studied, but she had picked up enough working in other fields to find herself believing Coldheart’s words. “So there are diseases where just being able to use magic can cause problems?” She leaned forward hungrily, scholarly curiosity shoving aside bitter cynicism. “I mean, I’ve studied plenty of arcane theory, but I haven’t read much on how magic relates to mental illnesses. Do the illnesses only respond differently with unicorns, or does any magical influence have a negative impact? Does casting a spell have the same effect as being targeted by one? What about being in the vicinity of an active spell caster? Do magically reactive poultices and potions react different if the–”
She halted her flurry of questions when she noticed the laughter in the nurse’s eyes and her barely suppressed grin. Like a colt that had been playing with his mother’s makeup, Twilight didn’t feel any embarrassment until she finally recognized the amused stare of another. She snapped her mouth shut as she turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. There is no shame in actually enjoying learning new things, she thought defensively, her declaration doing nothing for the warmth in her blushing face.
Coldheart’s amusement quickly faded. “Alright Twilight,” she said with a professional air, “I’ll try to answer your questions, but we don’t have that much time. We have a schedule to keep, and you can’t be late for your morning meetings. I’ll explain while we head to the bathroom, alright?”
Twilight nodded and grabbed her things. She wanted answers, and she wasn’t going to let a little embarrassment get in the way. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t been in a situation like this before, she pointed out. Surprisingly, it didn’t help her feel any better thinking back on the many times her eagerness had ended up embarrassing her. “So, why is it so different for us than other ponies?”
“Well, in the simplest of terms, it all has to do with how unicorns interact with magic. Unlike pegasi or earth ponies, you unicorns shape arcane energy with your mind,” explained Coldheart. “For non-unicorns, magic is something intuitive and subconscious. Pegasi have to learn how to fly, but they don’t have to learn how to walk on clouds – they just do. It’s innate, like digesting food.”
“I know that. I took health and biology classes in school,” she stated flatly, trying to keep her impatience in check, and ignoring the nurse’s odd look. “I just need to know why it’s so different that I need a suppressor on my horn.”
“It’s because unicorns control magic with their minds,” Coldheart repeated patiently. “If the mind itself isn’t functioning properly, then the magic it is using becomes unstable. And because some diseases alter perceptions of reality, even casual use of magic becomes a true health hazard. In many ways, it’s like a foal’s magical surges. The foal uses magic erratically because their mind isn’t fully developed.”
The last piece fell into place, leaving Twilight feeling particularly slow. Her blush returned with a vengeance. Why didn’t I think of that? "Oh, of course." Twilight kept her voice steady as she continued her questions. “But except for some of the innate abilities of earth ponies and pegasi, magic by itself doesn’t directly affect a pony unless it is guided by a spell. So how does just passive exposure to magical energy affect the disease?”
“Passive exposure doesn’t affect anything. After all, our staff use spells on patients all the time,” she pointed out. “It’s the ability to utilize magic that can lead to problems.”
“So a disease can be directly affected by a unicorn’s ability to cast a spell?”
“I don’t believe it affects the disease directly,” the nurse replied, sounding less sure of herself than before, “although you’ll have to ask one of the doctors to be sure. In my experiences the symptoms are the problem. Because of the mental link, they can become unpredictable and... dangerous.” Coldheart glanced away. "Hallucinations are the worst. A pony’s illness deceives them utterly, altering how they think and what they feel, until magic itself becomes a liability. It’s not even the very real danger of them casting the wrong spell unwillingly. They might draw in too much power and cause brain damage. If their senses betray them, they can easily end up burning away their minds without ever realizing it.”
Twilight was struck by the deep weariness in the nurse’s eyes, feeling like she was getting an unguarded glimpse into the older mare’s soul. Coldheart wanted to hide her scars, hoping to mask the premature wrinkles with bright makeup, but her eyes couldn’t lie. Twilight turned away. What could she say after that?
Lost in her thoughts, Nurse Coldheart seemed content to let the silence linger. Twilight couldn’t help but dwell upon her words, shivering at the thought of a unicorn causing themselves brain damage. An arcane burnout was the dark side to unicorn magic, something every unicorn was warned about growing up. It had always seemed such a terribly unlikely occurrence to Twilight, the idea of somepony drawing in so much magical energy that it created a feedback loop and they ended up frying their own minds. If they didn’t pass out from exhaustion first, the searing pain would make any pony give up long before they could cause themselves lasting harm.
Any sane pony, she corrected herself, letting her eyes roam over the locked metal doors that ran the length of the hallway. The faces of Silver Glow and the twitchy orange stallion sprang to mind. A chill passed down her spine, making the hairs on her neck stand on end. Not every pony here is.
And now the plot thickens even more so. I don't think I've read anything quite like this before and I am quite curios on how this story will end.
We finally get to learn why she has the suppressor on. Myself, I'm of the opinion that this Twilight is sane, and that Smile!Twilight is the crazy one, who somehow swapped bodies/ places with our Twilight, but I'm eagerly waiting to find out. Keep up the good work, author.
So...awesome
So has the arcane burnout happened before? Like at broad hoof? Maybe that's why coldheart is so upset by that conversation
Stay strong, Twilight, stay strong...
Some explanations about magic, eh? I like that.
Of course, this could just be a convenient excuse for the hospital's magic-restriction policies.
I'm scared.
Rarity!!!!!!!! Where have you been!!!!???? Hmmmmm????!!!!!
This story's ambiguities are leaving me wondering if the Author has even decided which side is real.
Well that does lend credence to the argument that Twilight's illness came as a result of the magical overload during her exam. My newest theory is that in this reality Celestia wasn't there to halt the magical surge at its start, thus the magic continued to build and build until Twilight's undeveloped, childish brain cracked under the pressure. Interesting.
I am extremely curious as to how this story is going to go, as of right now its one of my favorites on this website. The only thing I'm a little worried about is that the story will end up not explaining anything for the longest period of time and continuously screwing with people, which is a common flaw a lot of these stories seem to have.
Every time this story updates, I think, hey! Maybe Twilight will finally make some new discovery that sheds some light on the situation. Every time I read the new chapter, I think, oh well. Guess I'll have to wait until the next chapter. The unanswered questions are almost enough to put me in Broadhoof. Where's Spike and Rarity? And the Princesses? What exactly was the new treatment that supposedly caused all of this? WHAT'S IN THE BOX?!? . . . . . Wait... that's from something else. Or is it? Meh, it'll come to me.
This story is driving me insane, and I think I like it!
Yay, a new chapter full of crazy . . . well, full of morning inspections. I guess every chapter can't be an awesome nightmare sequence where Twilight gets tortured and abused, but I can dream, right?
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I have. But I didn't know until, oh, chapter four or so.
wow...Nice bit of info there. Silver cracks me up! Looking forward to the next installment!
so good, keep it up bud.
So what actually happened in this chapter?
Twilight wakes up
Twilight takes her medicine
Twilight talks to a nurse and a Rarity-silver spoon combination.
And you made that 7,000 words? This is why you have so many followers.
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I agree, but what about Twi's friends? Are they just other patients that she happend to incorporate into her delusions?
I'm utterly convinced that smilie!twilight is some evil entity, and she's put everyone (except Spike) in this alternate world for some reason. Crazy or not, I think our Twilight is going to need to work together with the others if she wants to figure this out.
damn it,
i got nearly all of them right.
you suck, rarity
Phew, I'm glad this chapter didn't play with my emotions so harshly like the last one It feels amazing knowing that this fiction has a long way ahead to be finally concluded, or at least that's what I think
2304652 Actually I'm still of the mind that this is an entirely different reality with it's own history that Twilight somehow got thrust into. So in a sense this is all "real" but it's not where Twilight should be. Kind of like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.
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One way to know for sure would be for Twilight to use magic if she can use her normal repertoire of spells then it is an alternate reality but if she can't then she is deluding herself.
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Vaguely continuing that line of thought.
Is the reason that Twilight was unable to use magic in the "Dream" because of the magical supressor?
If it was present on her body at the time, it would have prevented her magic from working....
Smile!Twilight is a cheater!
Revenge!
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Me too!
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That theory has taken off ever since chapter 8, I will say.
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Coldheart has seen some things, let me tell you.
images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120205002823/mlp/images/thumb/8/80/S02E16_UEM2.png/150px-S02E16_UEM2.png
But just look at ALL that makeup!
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Let me see your war face, Twilight!
I said, let me see your war face!
Better.
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Thank you. And yes, yes it could. Or she could be telling the truth. Or both. Or neither!
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Hug?
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That ain't rarity.
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Cracked like an egg beneath a skillet wielded by an actor pretending to be a metaphor for crack addiction.
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This isn't going to be what I term "sad porn" or anything like that - I actually have plans for the story that don't involve "Twilight Sparkle suffers a bunch for twenty three chapters and then the story ends". I can promise you that, while I might not explain everything, I do have an actual story in mind. With plot. And character development. And hot gypsies.
Just, you know, I might leave a lot up to interpretation, or play with your expectations, or just outright lie to you. Like right now...?
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What's in the box? Well then, why don't I whip this old thing out. Behold, something I wrote months ago for a writing prompt. Something that was limited in length, has never been edited, and I am showing you because... you made a random statement that connected to something I have done. Enjoy.
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You can dream... about Twilight Smiles and her band of shadow friends.
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Silver was a fun character to write. Sure, she is creepy and may or may not have done some terrible things, and she is kinda depressing, but she is still fun to write!
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Thanks!
2304596
Thank you kindly. If there is anyone who knows how to
needlessly pad out a story and write lots of nothingbuild atmosphere and develop character, it's me.2304701
Well, the name of the show is friendship is magic...
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That ain't rarity. It's Silver Glow, an OC based around the idea suggested by Reese here. Not every upper crust unicorn mare is Rarity in a wig.
For those people who are coming to the story late, submissions for OCs are always open. Add them to that blog, and if I ever go crawling through it looking for names and possible ideas, I am quite willing to
shamelessly steal and hog all the credituse your OCs for inspiration and include them in the story as background characters and the like. Just remember that Nurses and Orderlies are in high demand.2304777
Thanks!
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Oh! Can the winged monkeys be played by the CMC?
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Oh? Is that so? You don't think there could be other things at work?
Or could this
just be another blatant attempt by a hack writer to make you doubt yourself for no reason than he is an incredible tool?be another cunning ploy to trick you into doubting yourself as some kinda double- or even triple-bluff?2305358
*poker face*
2305642 I'm gonna go with the second one, if only to maintain my sanity.
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I tend to go for the painfully obvious/easy theories. I'm a simple person. Pre-existing friends from a show about friendship need to be friends and do friendship things to solve their problems. (I mean really, if she wants to find some answers, trying to regroup the Elements would be the first thing to try and do, right?)
Reese is a genius for coming up with that pony. You also did an awesome job bringing her to life. Her conversation with Twilight was... epic? Amusing in the most amusing sense, best way I can think of to describe that.
A small part of me wants to believe Twilight really was sent to a mental facility. The elements of harmony don't really exist. Also Princess Celestia doesn't even know Twilight exists. The reason for that is because when you sit down and think about it all this talk about friendship and magic seems a tad... corny? (Sort of a "Pony society is really much like a human one, but in Twilight's fantasy things are different")
I don't know, it's just... a different sort of outlook on this genre. Every fic out there seems to need a Nightmare Moon level big bad.
Sorry about the rambling. Thank you for the update! You're amazing!
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It is worth preserving.
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A simple man with simple tastes.
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But that still doesn't calm my anticipation/fear of the next chapter.
"A pegasi has to learn"
pegasus
…Aaaand the chapter ends. Why do they keep doing that?!
Anyway, I found it another good (though unsatisfyingly short) chapter. Seeing Silver Glow was interesting, though I'm not actually sure how close she was to the original concept; with the exception of Summer Sunshine, I basically dropped each of the OCs I submitted into the blog post and moved on. The medical information was also interesting and contributed to ideas. And while the previous chapter failed to shake me from the Realist cause, this one has made me more certain that it's correct. Keep up the good work! :)
Oh, by the way, I found this recently and thought that you might like it:
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Do you mean that the positions are in high demand or that ponies for the positions are in high demand? If it's the latter, I did submit that one orderly, Mint Leaf. Not presuming to make a request, just thinking that there's no harm in a reminder. :)
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...A genius? Well, thanks! I'd disagree with you, of course, but thanks!
Also, welcome to the Realists! No grand villainous plot, no sinister conspiracy, just a disturbed mare in a hospital that's trying to help her (and that will hopefully succeed; just because I'm in favor of what's possibly the darker option doesn't mean that I want an unhappy ending... to this story, at least :)).
I swear, reading your stories is like expanding my vocabulary, and making me think of how magic can work in MLP. It's funny how many "scientific" ways we can define magic, isn't it?
Though now, part of me wonders if that is what is happening with Twilight. Someone has altered her memories, her mind, which is why her spell caster was all wocky in the dream. It's almost like the brain is a machine, and someone's wired it slightly differently. The machine works, but it doesn't properly function; and when Twilight tries to fight this rewiring, whatever altered her has programmed something in there to fight back against her, most aggressively but subtle.
*taps chin* Every little hint helps with the final puzzle. And I enjoy the mystery. ;)
Bonbon - "Okay Lyra, open up so I can make sure you aren't squirreling the pills."
Lyra - "Yeah, whatever. Ahhhh..."
Bonbon - "Hmm... I'm going to have to inspect in there further to be extra certain... with my tongue..."
Lyra - "(O)//o//(O)"
Coldheart - "BONBON! Not again, damn it! What is your deal with that unicorn!?"
I sure do love me some crazy Technicolor Ponies! They are so cute!
Dammit, the fact that you decided what's actually happening to Twilight all the way back in chapter four makes my theories more depressing. I think I'm going to stop speculating on this story and try to just enjoy reading it.
... Yeah, cause I can turn my brain off at will. Bleh, Twily get better naow. Your sad brain makes my brain sad. Eventually she'll probably get that inhibitor off, and it stands to reason that attempting to cast a spell she couldn't have possibly learned in her life as a patient in a sanitarium would be the best test she has a chance of accessing for determining whether she is in an alternate dimension. Her selfsame attempt in the last chapter doesn't really rule out the test or the theory, as her state of being at the time is in question. Whether in a dream, a sickness induced hallucination, or some kind of vision forced upon her by some malevolent being, the rules of reality were not necessarily in effect, or acting in a way her spell required to function. Unfortunately, the psych ward reality might not be operating by the same laws of reality either, so even if she were able to attempt it, a negative result wouldn't actually prove anything. Actually, now that I think about it, success could only prove her right, whereas failure wouldn't conclusively prove her wrong. Not unfortunate at all.
Which is why I know you'll let her try, and she'll fail, just so you can mess with me! Gah! Still holding out hope that Twilie got booted into another dimension by some evil... Thingamajigger. All I can do I suppose is wait and see. And drive myself up a wall theorizing I guess. I'd pop an appropriate Twilight-centric YouTube clip in here, most likely from lesson zero, but I'm on my iPod, which makes that an annoying prospect. So imagine frazzled angry frustrated Twilight going "Gah! Urrrgh!" And stomping off.
fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2011/220/f/7/imagination_id_by_winter_freak-d45v6bc.png
Hm. some interesting world-building in this chapter. I was half expecting Silver Glow to turn out to be Rarity, but I guess her reveal will have to wait. And arcane burnouts sound....unpleasant.
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"Actually, now that I think about it, success could only prove her right, whereas failure wouldn't conclusively prove her wrong. Not unfortunate at all."
Unless she hallucinates the success. And how would she know? Genuine asylum staff reacting to a patient who's hallucinating that she's casting a complex spell and is really channeling dangerously uncontrolled magic would look entirely different from illusory curse-manifestations or whatever that are trying to look like the above asylum staff and want to stop her from genuinely casting a complex spell? :)
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Your short story inspired me to make this.
i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/7160506368/h31010772/
Not very good, but I was using MS Paint and my laptop's touchpad, so yeah.
I get the feeling that she's hallucinating the hospital, and is sick in either her home or a real hospital right now.
2305729
He certainly is. I took the idea and changed/tweaked it suit my own ends, but he did all the heavy lifting. I just
stoleborrowed what he came up with, covered it in my own coat of pain, and used it to fill in a good half of my chapter.And I have tried to paint Broadhoof / the Asylumverse as being a bit different from the canon Equestria. How much is the same and how much is different will be explained with time, but the biggest thing I could point to would be the use of electricity versus fantastical "magic". If you want to know how I'm approaching the Asylumverse in terms of technology and social values, a rough analogue would be the 1950s America. Just with less Science! and more Magic!
deviantart.com/download/216802640/i_love_luna_by_tim_kangaroo-d3l2tzk.png
Oh, and fewer atomic bombs, too. And less communism. Less famines... no Cold War... fewer dictatorships...
And their ain't nothin' wrong with big bads. The bigger they are, the more awesome the quick time events!
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D-Don't be afraid-d... we w-won't hurt-t youuu...
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Fix'd! Thanks.
And yeah, I changed her a bit to fit my own needs and ideas for the story, but I was inspired by your post entirely. It wasn't a literal translation from one medium to another - I can't leave anything alone and just have to fiddle with things it seems - but I wanted to keep some of the core ideas (upper crust unicorn that uses her power to influence others to gratify her own needs) in a way I felt really fit the story. Also, she does seem quite tragic despite her past, sitting around at Broadhoof expecting her father to send for her one day.
She's like that one Kennedy child the family never talked about. Only, you know, a pony.
Anyway, I still have to thank you for the idea that inspired me, even if I didn't follow along 100% with your original - and amazing! - idea. I always fiddle. I'm the fiddler on the chair.
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Ponies for those positions. And thanks for your submission! I have plenty of submissions for patients, but a severe lack of orderlies or nurses or doctors, so I appreciate it. Of course, that's not a bad thing - there is more room for background ponies as patients, but it is nice to have variety. And there are ponies from the show I can use to fill in the blanks for nurses and such (see nurse Coldheart as an examples), so it's not too pressing.
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Fluttershy isn't dead! I promise!
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I tried to look at something as illogical as magic within the scope of rules and such that would make sense, but one thing I don't plan on doing is going into details about how it all works or anything like that - it could be interesting to some, but it's slow, tedious, and not worthwhile story wise. It's better to make suggestions about how it works and have a fairly clear idea in your own head (as the writer), but to let your readers fill in most of the blanks themselves.
And yeah, the idea of magic in a world with mental illnesses was an interesting concept for me once I started thinking about it. I mean, in the show the earth and pegasus ponies are said to have/use magic in a different way (I believe - I could just be picking that up from the fandom), but when it comes down to it I couldn't see how a disease could affect their use of magic. A pegasus that is insane isn't going to suddenly stop walking on clouds without realizing it if foals can do it.
However, because unicorns shape magic consciously with their minds, then any mental disorders would cause problems in how they interact and use magic. At the most basic level it can be a problem of perception (thinking you are casting one spell but really casting another) or just having, as you say, some wires out of place (making spell casting erratic, difficult, or unpredictable).
Add into that the idea that some disorders can grow worse when exposed to magical energy, and it offers a plausible and realistic
excusereason for why some unicorns would need to have their magical abilities suppressed. I guess the best analogy would be a pegasus breaking its wing - you want to put it in a cast or sling to keep them from moving it so they don't make it worse. Cutting a pegasus off from magic is for the same reason - and a suppressor on the horn is a better option then a horn removal or lobotomy...2306172
They are!
2306291
Well, I found out where I wanted to go with the story more around chapter 4-5 I think. Up until then I was just writing and letting the story take me where it wanted to. Which, incidentally, isn't the best way to go about a story, but I digress.
Also, feel free to keep up with the theorizing. I lurv me some theorizing!
And I would never just mess with my readers...
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Yeah, it was a chapter that I thought should be a bit slower after the craziness and excitement of chapter 8, and thus I could throw in some stuff to help flesh the world out and provide a hint at exposition before moving on. It's not supposed to be "Sad! Sad! Crazy! Sad!" all the time.
Rarity will come in time.
And yes, those burnouts do sound quite unpleasant.
2306326
Naw, just kiddin'. I understood ya.
2306552
2306697
It works!
2306884
Ah, the sickness within a sickness theory. I doubt that you're alone in that regard.
Will we see more of the mane six ponies? Pinkie, Dash, Flutters, etc? Are you going to explore their past in any way? Do the CMCs/equivalents live in the Broadhoof, or are they a product of Twi's own imagination?