Green T

by Petrichord

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Narcotics, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rarity, Treehugger
Length: 2711

Rarity has a rather enlightening conversation.

Tree Hugger isn't a bad pony to know, even if she isn't exactly your friend. Some ponies are just nice to have around for conversation and recreation, and Tree Hugger's an excellent partner for both of those things — even if she's a little hung up on some more "esoteric" principles.

Rarity doesn't mind the recreation. Or, for that matter, the conversation. But it's always been a little vexing why Tree Hugger would want to do these things with her.

Sometimes, these sorts of questions have enlightening answers.

*********************************

All of my thanks to Flashgen for his help.

Published 2020-05-31 14:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-05-31 14:20:01 UTC

It needs a little kick

Tree Hugger tilted her head. “You look like you’re totally out there, Rares. Like...you’re beyond everything, you know?”

Rarity didn’t answer for a second. From her glassy-eyed ceilingward gaze and disheveled purple-and-white mane to her utter lack of movement, she appeared less like a saviour of the country than she did a corpse.

Abruptly, she chuckled. “I suppose that’s an aftereffect of our weekly conversation and recreation, isn’t it? I’m so glad you suggested we do this all those months ago.”

“Totally, totally. I love this wavelength we get on. It’s so...enlightening.”

“Not a bad way of putting it.” Rarity rubbed her eyes. “I definitely feel…”

“Like you’re way out from everything else? Like, out of this world?”

“No,” Rarity mumbled. “Not yet.”

Rarity trailed off again. She lay on the most comfortable couch in the Carousel Boutique while her lips twitched, as if remembering words that were beyond her capacity to speak and trying in vain to recount the feel of them. Behind her, the sounds of a cleanly plucked sitar wafted from the phonograph that Tree Hugger had brought over for recreation. Around her laid the discolored pipes and ashy remnants of further recreation, which proved to be a far more effective way for Rarity to relax.

“Are you sure?” Tree Hugger chuckled as she sprawled out over Rarity’s less comfortable couch. “You totally look like you’re way out…”

“There was this...outfit.”

Tree Hugger fell silent. Half of Rarity’s body twitched, as if she had briefly considered sitting up before deciding that it wasn’t worth the effort.

“I saw it a few days ago,” Rarity continued. “I mean, it wasn’t the first time I’ve seen somepony wearing it, but it’s the first time I really saw it, you know? The general...outfit-iness, anyway. It was ten years out of fashion by the time I had gotten my cutie mark. I think it’s supposed to be retro these days, but the one she was wearing was clearly the real thing that’d just been sitting around for decades.”

“Radical.”

“Maybe it was a thrift store purchase, who knows?” Rarity turned her head towards Tree Hugger. “Do you know what a cardigan is, dear?”

“Isn’t it, like, a dog or something?”

Rarity grinned. “It’s something you wear, Tree. It’s like...hers looked warm. And it was all...striped black and white. Lots of stripes. Different sizes. Different...fuzziness to them all.” Rarity’s grin faded as she waved a limp hoof in the air. “And I swear it meant something.”

Tree Hugger blinked. “The fuzziness?”

“No, the stripes. It was like I was...reading them.”

Tree Hugger remained silent.

“M’sorry,” Rarity mumbled. “It sounds a bit...silly when I say it.”

“No way. That’s...so righteous.” Tree Hugger rolled over and sat up a little. “How do you read a dog outfit-thing? Like a book?”

“It’s patterns, dear. I saw the patterns.” Rarity pulled herself off of the couch and stared intently at Tree Hugger as she rose. “Every line was different, but every line was on purpose. It wasn’t a fashion, it was a language. A language of lines and shapes on wavelengths, like the transcription of a song that…”

Rarity sighed. The sitar, unacknowledged, accompanied itself with a rhythmic click.

“...I get like this every time you’re over, dear. I’m sorry.”

“I wish you’d stop hashing your own buzz, Rares. You always sound like you’re so close to expanding your mind, and then you just...don’t let yourself talk about it.” Tree Hugger stretched, then reached over lazily towards her couch’s side table and grabbed at a smoldering, half-used roll of herbs and paper. “Let your mind bliss and your words flow, you know?”

“You tell me that every time I say something foolish.” Rarity tried to smirk, but her smile was too wan to carry any emphasis.

Tree Hugger brought the roll to her lips and took a long, slow pull, held it in her lungs for several seconds and exhaled. “Is it foolish because you don’t believe it, or is it foolish because other ponies wouldn’t believe it?”

Rarity shook her head. “They really wouldn’t.”

“Do you?”

Rarity didn’t answer. Instead, she reached over to the coffee table that separated the two couches, plucked a small autumn leaf off of its glossy surface and placed it in her mouth. As the soft beat of a drum began filling the air, Rarity sucked on the leaf for a second or two before swallowing it whole. “I don’t think it matters whether or not I believe it. The patterns exist. They’ve always existed. Whether or not I allow myself to notice them is up to me.”

Tree Hugger took another long pull. By the time she exhaled, her coat looked like it was glowing softly. “It seemed like ages ago when you were struggling to pass through The Autumn Door. Far out.”

Rarity giggled as she sat back down. “I was wondering when you were going to mention The Doors of Ascension, dear. You certainly do seem to enjoy your particular branch of philosophy.”

“Hey, now. It’s the truth.”

“The truest of all things, yes. And there’s no point in adhering to some belief if you can’t find understanding through it, yes.” Rarity stretched her forelegs. “I’m not poking fun, dear. Just...delighted, I suppose. Delighted to find somepony else reaching for self-examination.”

“You don’t think other ponies do?”

“I suppose they do, but not like this. Not thinking about it as a wholeness of self...thing.” Rarity gestured vaguely with her hooves. “They’re a bit...clinical about it, I suppose. Treating something so fundamental like a science. Princess Twilight might have explored herself, truly, but if she has then she’s almost certainly done it in the clinical way.”

“Harsh, Rares. Harsh.” Tree Hugger leaned over towards the coffee table and grabbed at another pinch of herbs and a small roll of paper, quickly and cleanly wrapping the former up in the latter. “How much do you think she’s opened up her mind?”

“I think she passed through The Summer Door a little after she became a princess. That was...goodness, that was decades ago, wasn’t it? But her grasp on love and the one-ness of ponykind was never truly in doubt. It just needed one last speck of self-reflection.”

Rarity faltered once more, staring at the clock by the door. Her gaze settled somewhere between intense concentration and a frustrated frown, unwittingly escalating in time with the song on the phonograph as it soared into 175 BPM of sitar noodling and frenzied breakbeats.

“I’ve gotten old,” Rarity declared.

Tree Hugger shrugged. “Time’s kind of subjective, Rares.”

“My mane’s starting to go white, I’m seeing bags under my eyes and I can’t gallop quite like I used to. It’s not subjective to my body. And when my brain falters, it won’t be subjective there either. Talking about my spiritual self won’t mean anything once my body’s dead and gone.”

“So you don’t think you got anywhere with all this?”

“My body? It’s wasting away in a shop I manage more and more and work in less and less. It’s full of aches and pains occasionally alleviated by your...recreational methods, and most of my joy comes from talking to friends, and most of them will eventually be dead and gone, too.”
Rarity turned back to stare at Tree Hugger, only for her rant to be thrown into a screeching halt by the expression on Tree Hugger’s face.

“You don’t believe anything I’ve said?” Tree Hugger asked. Her stare wasn’t hurt, exactly, nor was it angry — but it was singularly the most intense expression Rarity had seen on anypony’s face as far back as she could remember.

“On the contrary,” Rarity replied, “I can see everything. I can visualize it so intently that it’s as if I’ve literally gone through every door you’ve mentioned. I was pushed through The Carmine Door when I slid out of my mother, screaming and blind to the world around me. Then when my cutie mark awoke, I passed unwittingly through The Sky Door and cast aside my childhood to find purpose in the world I lived in. And while most ponies stopped there, I went beyond.”

Rarity stood up with an alacrity belied by her age and substance intake and began to pace around Tree Hugger’s couch and her couch in a steady loop, blind to Tree Hugger’s gaze as her thoughts overwhelmed her.

“I stepped through The Orchid Door when I realized what place I had in the world and what could be done with that. I walked through The Summer Door when I passed down the element of generosity and understood how love and unity truly brought everypony together. And when you helped me realize the journey I’d made and the patterns I’ve seen and channeled into my craft, you helped me realize that I’d fallen through The Autumn Door some time ago and not realized it.”

“And?”

“And that’s it, isn’t it? You helped me realize I’ve passed through the door. You helped me realize I’d passed through all the other ones, too. And that they existed at all!” Rarity turned sharply in Tree Hugger’s direction, meeting her eye-to-eye. “I wouldn’t have known those things if you hadn’t asked if I wanted to have conversation and recreation nights all those months ago.”

Tree Hugger’s gaze remained intense, though it was otherwise inscrutable. “You had totally bad vibes back then, remember? It was just a bummer being around you and not doing anything. I figured I’d help.”

Rarity pointed a hoof at Tree Hugger. “What about Fluttershy?”

“She hasn’t gone through the Autumn Door, either. And I don’t think she ever will, you know?” Tree Hugger set her unlit herb roll down and leaned back against the couch. “Fluttershy’s, like, a way excellent pony to be around. She’s got the best vibes. But you, like...you dig this stuff even though you had bad vibes. It was way different. You’re on a totally different level.”

Rarity didn’t reply. As the music reached a lull, she walked over to Tree Hugger’s couch and sat down in front of her. Neither said anything for several seconds.

“I saw a cardigan a few days ago,” Rarity said. “And ever since then, I’ve been seeing patterns in everything. Every word, every sound, every expression — they’re all different, but they’re all on purpose. Everything’s a language. And I keep feeling like if I really tried, I might be able to write my own words right inside everything else’s sentences.”

Tree Hugger sat up. “Yeah?”

Rarity nodded “I don’t feel out of this world, Tree. I feel like the world doesn’t even exist like I used to think it did.”

“Yeah.” Before Rarity could react, Tree Hugger punched her in the chest.

Rarity skittered backwards and toppled over onto the ground. She lay there for a second, dizzy and staring up at a remarkably plain and lifeless ceiling, wondering where her anger had gone. Then she pushed herself up and forced her face into a frown. “Darling, what in Equestria—”

Tree Hugger’s hoof pointed at the floor in front of her. Rarity followed her gaze.

And saw her body lying in front of the couch, not moving.

“...Hm.” The frown slid off of Rarity’s face. Fear didn’t follow it; no emotion did. After a couple of seconds, it suddenly struck Rarity as rather silly that she didn’t feel anything about finding her body lying in front of her like a discarded rag doll.

“How do you feel?” Tree Hugger asked, looking at Rarity. No — Tree Hugger was looking up at her. Rarity was looking down at her body and a little less down at Tree Hugger. She was floating in the air a little, then. How had she managed to do that?

“I...feel like I should feel a little more strongly about this.” Rarity cocked her head. “I’m not quite sure where my emotions have gone.”

“They’re still in you. A lot just gets tangled up in your body, that’s all.” Tree Hugger looked down at Rarity’s body, and the dried leaves in her hair rustled as she looked back up at Rarity. No, that wasn’t dried leaves in Tree Hugger’s hair, the leaves were her hair. And wasn’t there supposed to be a kerchief in her hair instead of actual flowers?

“I’m...sorry, dear, I’m just slightly confused.” Rarity looked down at her body again. “Am I dead?”

“You can wear your body again if you want. I was a little attached to mine for a little while after I woke up. But it’s not as comfortable as it is outside of one.” Tree Hugger’s drowsy cadence faded, replaced with a breathy yet singularly clear voice. “If you want to put it back on, though, you might want to do it soon. It’s not good for a body to be empty.”

“And I suppose it would die if I left it alone for too long. That’s a bit of a shame.” Rarity sighed. “I do like being out here. It feels calmer, but more tangible. Like I’m really here, instead of just being alive here. But I think my friends would feel bad if I died.”

“You don’t have to stay in that body until it stops on its own.” Tree Hugger, or the creature that looked increasingly less like Tree Hugger, smiled. “Tell your friends that you’ve contracted an incurable illness, gradually discard your obligations and let yourself let go when you think everypony’s ready for you to go.”

“Won’t they still be sad?”

“Ponies get attached to bodies. It’s not their fault. It’s all they know.” Tree Hugger reached up behind her ear, as if moving to scratch an itch, but stopped before she touched her skin. “All your friends will be sad when your body dies, except the dead ones. But you can give them catharsis and time to prepare if you want to.”

“I suppose that’s true. And a fair amount of them are close to dying, anyway. None of us are exactly young, except for Twilight.” Rarity paused. “Ah...will it be just the bodies of my friends that will eventually die, too? Or will it be all of them?”

“All of them, I’m afraid.” Tree Hugger pulled her hoof away from her face, stepped off of the couch and gently began to tug Rarity’s body back on top of the cushions. “Almost all creatures are too attached to their bodies and die alongside them. Most don’t have the ability to see beyond their bodies, and very few of the ones that can are able to detach themselves from their shells. I’ve cheated, admittedly, but you’ve been very close for longer than you think and holding yourself back the entire time.”

Rarity floated down to her body, experimentally waving her foreleg through her body’s hindleg. It passed through as if her hindleg — or her foreleg — didn’t exist.

“That’s not the way to go back inside.” Tree Hugger hefted the rest of Rarity’s body onto the couch. The flowers vanished as the kerchief reappeared once more, and the leaves on Tree Hugger’s head curled in on themselves and coalesced until they looked like her mane once more. “Woah, that’s trippy. Sorry, squeezing myself back into a pony body always messes with my chakras. It’s, like, the opposite of groovy.”

“Is that something I can do? Transform myself just like that?” Rarity cocked her head.

“Nah. It takes a lot of practice and a serious understanding of your vibes.” Tree Hugger’s voice slipped back into its previously slow, mellow susurrus. “You’re still kinda out of rhythm with your life force, no offense.”

“None taken, I suppose.” A faint smile bloomed on Rarity’s face as she eyed her old body. “So how do I…?”

Tree Hugger grinned and placed her hooves on Rarity’s body’s cheeks, sliding them down and working over the body’s jaws until she pried them open. “Here, I’ll help you get your chakras flowing again. Uh, vibe alert, though: You’re gonna feel a lot when you go back in there.”

“Inevitable, isn’t it?” Rarity looked back over at Tree Hugger as a smile played around her lips. “And a small price to pay for having a conversation so enlightening.”