There were eighteen glass vials sitting on the coffee table in the center of the room. Two were suspended from tripods, three were empty, and the rest were filled with different colored liquids. One of these vials, a simple bottle with a cork stopper, was full of something thick and creamy. Another, a crystal flask shaped like a swan, was inexplicably boiling. And from a large shot glass, a thick vapor rose in artful spirals.
“This is Sea Foam,” Apple Bloom said, pointing to a sapphire blue mixture that seemed to be stirring itself. “You can only find it at Neighagra Falls, ‘cause that’s where it’s churned. And this,” she gestured toward an aluminum can, “is called Soda Pop! Twilight got it from this weird food dispensing machine in another dimension.”
“Wow!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “Twilight really lets you use all this stuff?”
The kitchen door swung open and Twilight entered the room, giggling. “Of course not. Sea Foam’s way too dangerous to be giving to a filly and I’m pretty sure Pepsi doesn’t have any magical properties.”
“Really?” Apple Bloom looked surprised. “But you said Spike uses it to cure headaches.”
Twilight laughed again. “Okay, okay, you win. Caffeine is magic. Now, who’s ready for a demonstration?”
“Me, me, me.” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo eagerly waved their hooves in the air.
“Alright-y then. Apple Bloom, you can take it from here.”
“Thank you.” Leading every pony away from the table, Apple Bloom stopped before a small pewter caldron that was hung over a roaring fire. “Welcome one and all to mah magical show spectacular! Today, I will demonstrate some of the most amazing feats ever beheld by pony kind. Prepare, ladies and gentle colts, to witness the manipulation of ponies at their very core. Watch in awe as I tamper with the fundamental aspects of control and remove every belief you ever had regarding emotional stability.” She smiled. “So without gilding the lily, and without farther ado, I am proud to present Bottled Emotions!”
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo ooohed and aaahed. Twilight rolled her eyes.
“Now, before we begin I’m go’nna have to ask for two volunteers. Do I have any volunteers?”
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo shot their hooves up.
“Any pony at all . . .”
Both hooves were waving around frantically.
“C’mon, don’t be shy.”
Scootaloo started grunting. “Pick me, pick me, pick me.”
“Yes, you with the poor oral hygiene and bad mane cut, what’s your name?”
“Scootaloo,” she smirked.
“Well Scootaloo, come right on down here and we’ll get started,” Apple Bloom said, leading every pony back to the table. Sweetie Belle thought it was weird that she was being taken right back where she had started, but decided not to comment. “Now Scootaloo, do you know what each of these vials contain?”
“Well,” she studied the individual vials, “that one’s Sea Foam . . . And this is Soda Pop . . . And I’m guessing that’s some sort of varnish?”
“These are some of the mystical, magical ingredients I will be using in mah magical show spectacular!” Apple Bloom threw her front hooves in the air as if she were conjuring some sort of magic, but nothing happened.
“Now, for the past eight weeks or so I’ve been working with Twilight on somethin’ special. Remember when we accidently poisoned mah brother and Miss Cheerilee? Well, I’ve decided I want another chance to make a love potion and that’s where you come in.”
Scootaloo flapped her wings excitedly. “We’re going to get to try a love potion?”
“Well, no, not exactly,” Apple Bloom recoiled. “You see, Twilight won’t let me make a love potion until I prove I’m responsible enough to handle it. So she agreed to help me make one if I could successfully make sample emotions for some pony else.”
Sweetie Belle frowned, turning to Twilight. “She’s going to make us potions that will make us feel a certain way?”
“Temporarily, yes. In large doses the effects can be overwhelming. Ponies have gone mad trying to recreate the feelings of happiness or driven to suicide with a large enough dose of defeat.”
“Why are you telling us this?” asked Scootaloo, whose wings were now still. “I thought you wanted us to try these.”
“I want you to know what you’re getting yourselves in to. You need to be aware of the consequences that come with this sort of thing. Bottling emotions simply isn’t natural.”
“Are there any positive aspects to these bottled emotions?”
“Of course. Many ponies have found true love once their eyes were opened with the effects of a love potion and a daily dose of courage is practically all that keeps Flash Sentry employed.” Twilight chuckled. “All right, who’s up first?”
“I can make fear, rage, embarrassment, stress, or grief,” Apple Bloom announced.
“Why can we only choose negative emotions?”
“Negative emotions make for better practice,” Twilight explained. “They’re easier to make and are far less addictive. Besides, the point of this demonstration is to show Apple Bloom how potent a love potion could be and negative emotions are far more shocking.”
“I want to try fear,” Scootaloo announced.
“Good choice,” Twilight said as Apple Bloom started mixing ingredients into the caldron. Using an eyedropper, she measured several of the colored liquids and brought them over to the fire. She then took a tongue depressor and stirred in a paste that looked suspiciously like butter. Apple Bloom hadn’t added much when she started stirring and didn’t seem intent in adding more, so Sweetie Belle decided there must have already been something boiling in the caldron.
“Is it burning?” Scootaloo asked after a few minutes, when the room started to smell like burnt leaves and cigarette butts.
“Nah, that’s just what fear smells like,” explained Apple Bloom. “Potions tend to take the properties of whatever emotion they depict. Love poisons have a sickly sweet smell. Calming potions remind me of an ocean breeze. Fear just happens to be fiery.”
“Really?” Scootaloo sniffed the air again. “I’m surprised. I would’ve thought anger would’ve had that fiery, burning smell.”
“Yeah but when ya think about it, fear is more fiery than anger. It comes much quicker and can be much more intense. Fear consumes every aspect of your being but anger doesn’t.”
“I don’t get it.”
“When you’re scared, like really scared, can you control yourself? No. Ya start shaking or your teeth start chattering and ya can’t stop, no matter how hard you concentrate. But anger is a choice. Even if you’re fuming, you can almost always keep yourself from hitting the pony you’re angry with.”
“I guess that makes sense . . .”
“Of course it does! Twilight said it. And with that,” Apple Bloom took the caldron off the fire and poured the contents into an empty vial, handing it to Scootaloo, “bottoms up.”
Scootaloo gagged. “It looks like mud,” she complained.
“Just drink it.”
Every pony shuffled forward as Scootaloo pressed the vial to her lips and took several large gulps.
“Is she going to start freaking out?”
“We’ll just have ta wait and see.” Apple Bloom watched Scootaloo intently. “How are ya feelin’?”
“Like I just chugged a bottle of hot sauce, but fine.”
“It should take a few moments, considering the small dose you were given.”
“A few moments for what?”
“It’s begun,” Apple Bloom said, suppressing a grin.
“What’s begun?” Scootaloo’s eyes darted across the room. “Why are you all smiling like that? Why are you acting as though I’m not here?”
“I’m sorry Scoots. I meant no harm. I just meant that the effects of the potion are hitting you.”
Scootaloo’s breathing became ragged. She was shifting in her seat, rubbing her thighs. “What’d you give me? Why’d you have to mix so much stuff?”
“It’s all right,” Sweetie Belle insisted. “You’re just feeling the effects of the potion.”
Scootaloo turned to Sweetie Belle, her face contorting into painful expressions. “Just the potion? Just the potion?” Sweat started to form across her brow. “You don’t get it! She poisoned me! She poisoned me and you’re next! I’m going to die! We’re all going to die!” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and Scootaloo collapsed in a heap.
“Don’t worry girls,” Twilight said, raising a comforting hoof. “She’s already starting to come out of it.”
Scootaloo laid curled up in a ball for a few more seconds, then straightened her legs and sat back up. “Wow! You weren’t kidding. That felt so real.” She wiped the remains of tears from her eyes and smiled.
“You all right?”
“Yeah.” Scootaloo forced herself to look back at her friends. “That was awesome!”
“What was it like?” Apple Bloom beamed. “Was it fun? Did it hurt? Are ya glad ya tried it? Did it take ya totally and completely by surprise?”
Scootaloo hesitated. “I thought I’d been poisoned. I didn’t even consider the fact that there was no reason you would’ve wanted to hurt me.”
“Your mind was trying to justify the emotion,” Twilight interjected. “Now imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t known what was coming. What would you have done or said if you were suddenly scared, for no apparent reason? And what if you weren’t even given fear? What if Apple Bloom had given you something far more powerful and addictive like happiness or confidence or excitement or say, a love potion?” Twilight let that thought hang in the air. “Your turn, Sweetie Belle.”
“I’m not sure I want to. Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Of course it’s not safe,” Scootaloo said. “That’s what makes it so much fun.”
“Besides,” Apple Bloom coaxed, “ya might just get a potion-testing cutie mark out of this.”
“Surprise me.”
Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Are ya sure?”
“Yeah. If I’m going to do this, I don’t want to know what to expect.”
Apple Bloom glanced at Twilight, who nodded. “If Sweetie Belle wants to be surprised, who are we to stop her?”
Immediately Apple Bloom started picking bottles from the table and carried them over to the caldron. She didn’t bother to dispose of the last potion, nor did she measure any of the liquids she poured in. Once she had emptied three or four vials (one of which had been the forbidden Sea Foam, Sweetie Belle noticed), Apple Bloom gave the caldron two swift stirs, added several drops of a particularly unattractive brown liquid and poured the result into an empty vial, which she handed to Sweetie Belle.
Unlike the last potion, this one was scarlet red and reminded every pony of melted chocolate. Sweetie Belle regarded it skeptically. “Why’s it smell so good?” she asked. “You didn’t give me a love potion, did you?”
“I can make fear, rage, embarrassment, stress, or grief,” Apple Bloom repeated.
Sweetie Belle looked at Twilight, who shrugged. “When the emotion hits, it will be much more real, much more distressing than you might imagine. Just try to remember that it’s artificial and will pass.”
Sweetie Belle pressed the vial to her lips and, without a second thought, chugged down the contents. It was disgusting. “That tasted nothing like chocolate,” she moaned, wiping her hoof across her mouth.
No pony answered. They all just watched her expectantly, just like she had been watching Scootaloo moments before.
Sweetie Belle shrugged and concentrated on the fact that a phony emotion was about to surface. If she focused hard enough, she should be able to keep her emotions under control. Scootaloo had humiliated herself with her fear of being poisoned and Sweetie Belle didn’t want to share a similar experience. As long as she could keep her emotions from overwhelming her, she’d be fine.
Scootaloo edged over to Apple Bloom and whispered something in her ear. Apple Bloom nodded and whispered something back. Sweetie Belle felt a pang of irritation as every pony continued to stare at her. What was their problem? Had she smeared some of the potion across her face?
“What are you talking about?” It came out a little harsher than she had intended but Sweetie Belle couldn’t help herself. Every pony was suddenly being so secretive.
“Nothing,” Scootaloo snickered.
Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes. “Did I say something funny?”
“Just wondering which emotion to expect.”
Apple Bloom whispered something else to Scootaloo and Scootaloo couldn’t hold back anymore. She laughed.
Sweetie Belle could feel her face flushing. They couldn’t have been talking about the potion. Potions weren’t nearly that funny. They must’ve been talking about her! It was second grade all over again. She was the outcast. Ponies were whispering about her; about the weird girl who sat alone at lunch; the girl who never even showed up to her fifth birthday party. They would talk about her behind her back and Sweetie Belle would play alone, wishing some pony besides a teacher would include her.
“It’s alright Sweetie Belle. It’ll all be over soon.”
Why is Twilight trying to reassure me, Sweetie Belle wondered. It’s not like she could have any idea what I’m going through. Ponies naturally loved Twilight. Even when she didn’t want them, Twilight always had friends. Sweetie Belle had to work for hers, and even then she was just the tag along.
No pony ever wanted Sweetie Belle. They just put up with her.
Hanging her head low, Sweetie Belle waited for the burning in her cheeks to subdue. Grudgingly, she glanced up; Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were laughing again. “I hate you,” she mumbled.
All laughter in the room died. “What was that?”
“I hate you both!” Throwing the library doors open, Sweetie Belle charged outside, taking the front steps two at a time. Behind her, she could hear hoof steps coming to a halt and the soothing sound of Twilight’s voice telling some pony to let her go. Good. She didn’t want to be followed by anyone. They probably would’ve tried to calm her, tell her that it was all okay, and their false sympathy would’ve been harder to endure than their cruel jokes.
Tears stung at the corners of her eyes. Why had they been laughing at her? It didn’t matter, really. It was clear now that these weren’t her friends and that she shouldn’t care about their opinions. Still . . . Did her voice crack? Had they noticed the pimple on her chin? Or – Sweetie Belle stopped in her tracks – was it possible it really had been just the potion?
The situation suddenly seemed far less tragic.
Of course it was the potion. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo hadn’t been laughing at her – they had been laughing at her reaction. She had to admit, looking back on it, she had been acting pretty funny: getting angry at nothing, scolding every pony over the smallest comment, lashing out for no apparent reason – and Apple Bloom and Scootaloo would have known exactly what was going on. Smiling, Sweetie Belle headed back toward the library. This was just like when Scootaloo had assumed she was poisoned. She had been blindsided by the potion and jumped to conclusions. Her friends had to know that, didn’t they?
“Hey Sweetie Belle, you feelin’ better?” Scootaloo asked once Sweetie Belle finally found her way back to the library.
“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle said as she pushed her way through the door. “That was some surprisingly powerful stuff. What was that? Anger?”
“Yeah.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Apple Bloom thought it’d be funny to see you blow up at some pony. We’ve only seen you angry a handful of times and it’s always hilarious.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
“Nah, just a bit shaken.”
“Oh.” Sweetie Belle developed a sudden interest in the floor. “I’m sorry I blew up at you,” she finally said, kicking at an imaginary rock on the ground.
Scootaloo waved her off. “Forget it.”
“No, really, it wasn’t fair. I let my emotions run away with me. I thought I could keep them under control and I didn’t.”
“Hey, I know what that feels like. I was the one who thought I was poisoned, remember?”
“Yeah.” Sweetie Belle smiled bitterly. “I guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?”
“Yeah.” They both forced a chuckle and looked away.
“Why do you think it smelled so good? The potion that induced anger, I mean.”
“Because anger often appears pleasing,” Scootaloo said a bit too fast. “We like to think of anger as a weapon we can use to demand respect, get our way, and hurt those who have wronged us. But really, anger is like acid. It eats at you from the inside and only hurts those who hold it.” When Sweetie Belle didn’t answer, Scootaloo grimaced and let her gaze fall out the window. “At least that’s what Twilight said.”
“Where’s Apple Bloom? I need to tell her this for myself.”
Scootaloo hesitated. Her eyes wondered across the room, before they finally fell on the ground at Sweetie Belle’s hooves. “Well, you see, she’s kind of, sort of . . . gone.”
Author's Note
This story was originally inspired by the works of Brandon Mull. If you've enjoyed this, you should check out some of his stuff, because he's a heck of a lot better writer than I'll ever be.
. . .
One thing I’ve always heard authors say is that you should never go back and reread your work once it’s published, because it’ll look like garbage. I’ve never understood what that meant. Until now.
I just went back and reviewed my work, and I got’ta say, it’s pretty awful. Why was I proud to submit Crusading Camp? What was I thinking when I expected Fortune Cookies to make the Popular Stories list? And how on Earth did I get other people to like my pieces? I don’t know, and quite frankly, it scares me. I just posted Bottled Emotions under the assumption that it's pretty well written, but looking back at what else I've posted that's "pretty well written", I'm not so sure . . .
Anyway, that's enough of my self-doubt. On to the real author's notes.
First and foremost, that's it. That's all. The end. It's over. That's exactly how it happened. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Are you satisfied? 'Cause I'm not. If that's how the story ends (and it is): Apple Bloom left the Crusaders, and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo have to come to terms with the fact that the C.M.C. have disbanded, then I'm not satisfied. Oh well. Sucks for me, I guess. Not every story ends happily.
But seriously though, I hope you enjoyed. If you liked this piece, or anything else I've written, positive feedback is always appreciated. It encourages me to continue writing. And if you didn't, constructive criticism would be extremely helpful; I'm always looking to improve my craft as a writer. So as always, I'd love to hear from all of you.
