The Dragon Law

General disclaimer: I do not own MLP, characters or otherwise, it belongs to Hasbro and such. Aside from the occasional original character I own nothing but the love of the show and its fanbase.

The Dragon Law

05.        Physical Therapy

The week I spent out of the cast was definitely less boring, in no small part to my new friend Mardi Gras. She came to visit almost daily, dropping by to chat and tell stories. I learned that she was Cajan (I don’t know whether to be relieved or saddened at the lack of pony pun) and had come from a large family of alligator trainers, she trained them to dance.

While on a job at Froggy Bottom Bog she had a run in with the pink party pony, she was preparing the party for the alligator specialists when Mardi was on a break. They hit it off fairly well and soon Mardi became one of Pinkies students of her “Dojo of Partyjutsu” along with another student, a white and yellow pegasus (I wonder who that could have been) and soon became very good at it.

Soon after “graduation” she moved to Maneapolis and got hired by Sweet Tooth Gourmands as a part-time caterer. Very quickly becoming a minor celebrity for her antics, jovial attitude, and ability she was promoted to the head position. But that wasn’t enough for this merry green mare, she decided to do a bunch of side jobs, pro bono. Like visiting the hospital every now and again to cheer up patients and help out the staff, or throwing parties and fundraising for the orphanage (yes she has pictures of them,and yes they're all cute). Other than the unique unicorn keeping me company every so often; this week has had other notable bits to mention. Like when I got get a good look at my new body without the cast.

Standing in front of the mirror in the physical therapy room I stood about nine feet (or a little under three meters for those that don’t measure in American). Starting with my feet, they had four small claws. My legs were very double jointed, it made it easier to walk on two or four feet. I had a tail (awesome) with a bit of thinking I got the hang of it pretty quickly, I just had to have it get stepped on about five times first.

I checked my back for spines or something nope, nothing pretty smooth up until you got to my wings. I have wings...that is the most incredible thing ever, how many people wanted to fly under their own power? And I get to...eventually, (not because I don’t have any idea how to work these things, because well I dont) during the crash nearly all the membrane between the ‘fingers’ (what are those called? Phalanges? Whatever, I studied nutritional biology not anatomy) was gone. It hurt, not just emotionally (teasing me with wings but having them useless like that) but physically as well. It felt like papercuts all over my shoulders, whenever I tried to flex my wings it looked like I had two giant skeletal hands coming out of my back. At least the doctors said that it will grow back eventually, like two to three months, lame.

My chest and arms weren't that impressive, smooth platinum scales changed to darker bluish plates that covered my chest down to my stomach. My hands (claws?) had three fingers and a thumb each ending in a small claw of about a half inch. Not very intimidating but they did cut through the gems I had (one being a bit of orange topaz, which is pretty hard stuff I’m told) carved it into a Chrysanthemum, mainly because both are my birthstone and flower.. It wasn't my best work, I could have done better with a turnip (I’m good at shaping turnips into things, don't ask it's a chef thing).

 But my face, still hasn't changed from when I had the look in the mirror last week, the bandages were off so i got a better view, all the little details were visible. Same slitted gray-blue eyes, same pronounced snout, opening my mouth I found I had exactly the kind of teeth a dragon would have, sharp and pointy. I had these fringe things where my ears would be, whatever. My “hair” is just elongated, flexible scales (it’s not a mane and I have scales everywhere so Imma just call it hair), anywhere from an inch to eighteen inches. It got in my way (I never liked my hair in my eyes) so shortly after I could move I had put it into a ponytail, which Mardi got a kick out of, and had kept it that way ever since.

While I was looking myself over in the mirror doctor Beard was in a corner writing down notes and gathering resources for what we were about to do...exercise (insert Rocky Training montage here). It wasn’t that bad actually, mostly just stretches, some weight lifting, running on a treadmill both bipedal and quadrupedal (not has hard as everyone makes it out to be). This was all mostly done to test how well my bones were mending, only about a month and I seem to be perfectly healthy (from jigsaw puzzle to healthy in a month, that's definitely the work of cartoon physics).

Through all my exercising the doctor didn’t do much besides take notes and mumble to himself, I got the feeling he was studying me more than helping me, but whatever, dragons willing to undergo tests seemed to be a rare thing and if he was going to write another paper for the scientific community who was I to hold back Science! (yes I capitalized science, it's that important). After the workout I was tired and it was late so doctor Beard called it a day, and I went to bed. Just two more days till I’m released. And have yet to plan what I’m going to do when I am.

I woke up to the face of Mardi Gras (which happened on more than one occasion) less than an inch away, the first two times this happened resulted in headaches for both of us but now I just respond with a casual “Morning Mardi, what’d you get for me today?” You see after I had told her that I was a trained chef she had been sneaking me in various sweet and savory treats from work. Her “experiments” she called them, unfinished or imperfect recipes that needed a little something to make them pop, I very quickly become her number two taste tester just below herself of course. But back to the point, she came bearing a new side dish she wanted to present to Chef Sweet Tooth (I can’t be the only one thinking of a clown pony with a flaming mane now could I?)

She stepped back while I sat up and pulled the table thingy that hospital beds sometimes have into position. Mardi had taken a small bowl with a tight fitting lid out of her saddlebags along with a knife fork and spoon. As a side note people wonder why ponies, lacking graspers, would have have utensils. Well thats easy, Minotaurs, Griffons, Dragons, Diamond Dogs, and many other species do have some form of grasping digits that could use them (thats not even mentioning fine dining and the “upper crust” of pony society, it’s good manners to eat with utensils you know.)

Opening the container the aroma of carrots, celery, bell pepper, onion, and tomato was instant. Using my keen culinary eye I spotted carrot sliced a quarter inch thick. Diced onion, pepper, and celery. Small diced tomatoes in its juice with minced herbs and seasonings, likely basil and oregano, essentially tomato soup. It all was still chilled and appeared to have been marinating overnight, letting it marinate overnight had been a good way of preparation, it allowed all the ingredients’ flavor profiles to mingle. Taking the spoon I began to eat.

“So what’d you think? To be honest I just added some fresh veggies to leftover tomato soup, we always have leftover soup, I was about to blend it into gazpacho when it hit me ‘No Mardi! Cold soups are so last month, time for something new!’ so I made a salad,” the culimareian said. (heh, pun)

“Well I think it could use some minced garlic, but then again I’m biased, everything could use more garlic,” (garlic is awesome) “It’s seasoned well, texture is nice, maybe some sweet corn for color, I believe you have a winner here.” I finished with a smile, taking another bite.

Her grin was was impossibly large taking up most of her face, as well as accompanied by a squee sound, (she actually made the squee, my heart it can’t take the adawwableness) she then pulled me into a tight hug nearly spilling the food, but I caught it with my tail (I'm getting good with that thing) so everything was fine.

After the quick meal the conversation shifted from food to music, because why not. Marti, I learned, could play over a dozen instruments at almost professional level. She just shrugged it off as Rule 5 of Partyjutsu: Music is the greatest weapon against frowny-wouny faces. While speaking with the mare I realized the one instrument I could play well, my ocarina (I’m a gamer who grew up with Legend of Zelda, how could I not love the ocarina), is probably in a whole other dimension. I guess I couldn’t hide my disappointment well because she stopped part way through her explanation of the importance of one-mare-bands.

“Aww, what’s wrong Law? I know a kazoo isn’t the most accepted instrument but that's no reason to be so pouty. Come on, turn that frown around!” She says, her horn glowing. I feel the corners of my mouth being pulled up into a smile.

“It’s not that, the kazoo is fun, its that I lost the one instrument I loved to play,” was my reply.

“Well, that’s not good at all, maybe it landed close to where you fell, what kind of instrument did you play?” she asked.

“No it’s not in town, I never took it with me, but it would have been great to alleviate some of the boredom from being stuck in this stuffy hospital. I played an 12 hole tenor ocarina, sometimes called a sweetpotato flute. It kind of looked like a water drop with a little branch sticking out of it.”

“Hmm,” Mardi began to rub her chin with a hoof with a contemplative look on her face, “I don’t think I’ve heard of one of those before, but I love the flute I bet you played very well.”

“I don’t think I did really but I enjoyed it, thats what mattered isn’t it,” I said with a sad smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you can find another, and when you do I want to be there and hear you play,” the foresty unicorn said giving me a pat on the back, “Oh! Look at the time," she said pointing to a watch drawn on her wrist-thing (note: learn pony anatomy) "I got to get work! Laters!”

Mardi Gras then levitated the empty bowl, lid, and utensils into her saddlebags jumped back and disappeared in a flash of light and confetti.

I had finished all the books loaned to me and had carved the remainder of my bag of gems into various small flowers and animals. They were by no means masterpieces but you definitely could tell what they were meant to be, I put as much detail into them as you would expect of something that is going to be eaten. So I was again out of things to do while I waited for breakfast to be served by Maritime Gold or one of the other nurses.

Luckily I didn’t have to wait long before a nurse had delivered: baked flounder and eggs with fresh fruit, cottage cheese, and yogurt. As usual it was good, (I don’t know who said that hospital food was terrible, but they must have been staying in the wrong one, ‘cause this is great). Even though I had nothing better to do afterwards I ate quickly and sat the tray aside waiting for Dr. Beard to take me to physical therapy.

I was entertaining myself by seeing how high I could stack animal gems (about eight inches, I could have gotten it higher but the stupid otter was too unstable) when the good doctor entered my room with the a wheelchair and asked if I was ready for some exercise.

“Sure why not, but do I need to take the chair again, I can get around just fine?” I asked.

“Yeah, you have to take the wheelchair. Patients aren't supposed to be on their hoofs, except for exercise and testing, even though we’re on the way you we’d prefer it if you didn’t walk until we get to the gym,” was the doctors reply.

I gave in and was wheeled to the gym (although about half way there i sped off leaving the doctor behind, just to spite the silly rules). When the doctor arrived a short while later I was doing wheelies in the chair.

“Quiet that, you’ll fall,” the doctor said with a bemused expression.

“Already have,” I said with a smile (I ran over my tail and fell, what of it), “so what do you got for me today?”

“Today we are just going to test your reflexes and measure your BMI. Once that is over I’ll go over the results, collaborate data, and review and revise documents. You know, the sciencey thing to do, but thats my work you’ll have the rest of the night to relax before your release tomorrow,” the medical stallion replied.

“Yeah, testing my reflexes seems normal but is my Body Mass Index really important?” I asked.

“Body mass index? Oh, BMI, that is Biological-Magical Intensity. It measures the amount of energy a living being can generate, we use it as a key factor when determining if a body is healing in a mystical sense as well as a physical one. It’s mostly used when a unicorn has an accident with their horn and their magic needs to be regulated, but in this case we will use it to track your growth,” was his answer.

What followed was me warming up with streaches and a jog around the gym, the doctor throwing medicine balls of various sizes and wights (fun fact: the  core of the rubbery dodgeball-like medicine balls were a rare gems called an Earth Emeralds that can adjust weight when charged), me literally jumping through hoops for the good doctor, a small lunch break,  and finally having me lay on a bed and taser looking device move up and down my body giving me a shock whenever I so much as twitched which caused me to twitch more (You can see where this is going).

Afterward the doctor wheeled me back to my room, I was in a bad mood from being tased repeatedly for what seemed like no good reason. I was ready to have dinner and go to bed. As we entered the room and the light was switched on a bunch of people jumped out at me and shouted. I did the only thing that came to mind at the time, cover my face with my right arm and throw a punch with the left. My fist connected with something soft and downy.

“Whoa there champ, OW, careful with them there claws. You're liable to take somepony’s head off,” I looked to see the gray wings of Rusty Scalpel shielding his face from my fist, “least we know how your doin’ in the reflex department.” he added shaking the soreness from them then folding them onto his back with an awkward smile.

“Oh, jeeze! I’m so sorry, I didn’t hurt you did I?” I asked, crap, I’ve been (awake) in Equestria less than two weeks and I’m punching ponies in the face. What’s wrong with me?

I was about to get out of the chair and check on him but he just shooed me back reassuring me everything is fine. After I was sure the surgeon was okay I turned to the one pony I’d bet all my scales on who set this surprise up.

“I’m sorry Mardi Gras, I ruined the surprise party, and I’m the one who brought it up” I said apologetically.

“Pfft," she said waving it off, "Rusty's okay and a reaction like that just means mission accomplished, this one time I surprised a mare so bad she bucked somepony out a window! Now turn that frowny-wowny upside down,” she said, sliding behind my chair and lifting my face into a smile pointing my head at the other ponies gathered, said ponies were smiling and waving, “see, eveypony else is happy to see you so active. I sorry it took so long to get setup but I wanted to work around everypony’s schedule, but better late than never!”

Maritime Gold, Gentle Relief, Rusty Scalpel, and now Heimlich (I know right?) Beard has strolled over to join them. Above the ponies is a banner stating GET WELL SOON, there was cake and ice cream, some balloons and streamers. I’m sure this is just a small bit of what Mardi Gras could to but this is a hospital after all, it wouldn’t be polite to cause a ruckus. Mardi wheeled me over to my bed, I got out of the chair and in bed (all on my own, ‘cause I’m not a helpless child and will not be treated as such) After getting comfortable I had completely forgotten about my bad mood and just began to enjoy myself.

The party consisted of mostly small talk, what the medical professionals’ hobbies, lives, and gossip; you know, the usual. I learned that nurse Gold had a younger cousin that works close by and could almost be mistaken for twins they looked so much alike. Dr. Beard has a few relatives that are outside Equestrian borders at the moment studying their own branches of xenobiology, his family it seems wants to catalogue all the known species into one large Encyclopedia Equestria. Doctor Scalpel and Relief are actually related, thought you couldn’t tell by looking, with both having served in the guard as per family tradition.

I told them bits and pieces of my life, careful not to give away that I haven't always been a dragon. Just things like how I was trained as a chef, the types of books I like to read (I just rolled movies and most other media into books and plays not knowing how far the technology tree is), but when asked about the places I traveled up till now I didn’t have an answer. I started to panic, tried to remember some of the names from the atlas I had read but I froze up. Seeing this Maritime came to save the day saying that it was some memory loss from the fall and not to push myself, that it would come back to me eventually.

After an anecdote doctor Scalpel told about a plump nurse by the name of Lolly Pop he had met a while back who could easily drink him under the table Mardi Gras stepped forward with a smile slightly bigger than her face should allow.

“It’s almost lights out but before we go,” the viridian mare charged her horn and sent a bit of magic a the foot of my bed, with the usual flash of light and sound three boxes in gift wrap and bows lay at my feet, “what good party is complete without presents!”

“Oh you didn’t need to do anything like that the food and company the past few days has been plenty,” I say all the while reaching for the largest box (because anyone who says they don’t like presents are either lying or extremely paranoid).

The tag on the box addressed it as from nurse Gold. In the box was cloth bag of various gems. Even with all the cake and ice cream my stomach decided to show its appreciation with a loud rumble. Gems tasted like, everything really, like those big jars of jelly beans with thirty different flavors, but like real food not just sugar and various chemicals for flavor. And they filled you up a lot more than their size gives them credit.

“Your still growing no matter your age, and this should last you till you find some way to earn your own,” she said with a smile.

I guess she could read the conflicted look on my face because she answered with, “now don’t worry about the cost. I have a pony for gems, actually” she said with a slight chuckle, “I have a pony for just about everything.”

I gave her a hug and took out a large purple gem, it tasted like grape soda even fizzed a bit (that gem I need to find the name of and get more).

Next was a flattish box that looked like it would hold a picture frame addressed from the three doctors. It in fact did hold a framed picture. Of my first x-rays actually, the one where I looked like a puzzle. “Funny,” I deadpanned to the three.

“Ah knew you’d like it,” the surgeon said.

Gentle was quietly chuckling to himself and Beard was staring elsewhere whistling innocently. I just gave a slightly bemused expression and set the picture aside. It was kinda funny.

“And last but not least, mine,” Mardi nearly throwing the present at me, she was bouncing in place with excitement.

Opening the box was a smaller box of a dark, sturdy, and polished wood likely mahogany (the grandest of all woods). With such a fancy case whatever inside has to be good, taking all the reverence in opening it as if it were the Ark of the Covenant, I couldn’t help but think of my cell phones ringtone. The music fit perfectly because what was inside caused me to slowly close the case, set it aside, scoot closer to Mardi Gras, and give her a hug that could rival the backbreaking hug she greeted me with.