Prologue
"........It's about that time...,"
A focused stallion paces anxiously in the familiarly confined space of his office, his eyes engaged in a ceaseless tango with the carpeted floor. One more session, and he'd finally be done for the week. No more overly-tedious work, careful attention to detail or problem-riddled ponies until Monday. Just the thought of the impending two full days of leisure was enough to reinvigorate his pacing. Lifting his head high, he smirks to himself as the sights of the office pass by again and again. He wouldn't have to see his desk, or his cheap lamp, or his black Chaise Lounge chair, or his wall-mounted, framed degree in psychiatry for two whole days.
There was nothing particularly wrong with the psychiatric part of his job. Oh, no, that was the part he enjoyed. Encountering a problem, using his own knowledge and the proper proverbial tools to solve it, and then observing his handiwork. Like putting together a jigsaw puzzle in somepony else's head. No, it was the other part of his job that unnerved him; shook him up; made him desperately lament what was left of his social life.
Caught in a reverie of his old life, he doesn't even notice as his gaze wanders over to the closed window built into the far wall of the room. Memories of better times sweetly and mercifully tug him away from reality as he absently examines his reflection in the window; his coat a pallid gray, his tamed mane and tail a dull silver, bodily features obscured by a white evening jacket over a black waistcoat with a silver single-albert watch chain protruding from one of the pockets. Lost in pleasant thoughts, he fails to notice how enslaved he looks. He fails to notice the tired bags beneath his narrow blue eyes. He fails to notice a knock at the door.
"Anypony home?", comes an impatient voice from the other side of the thin wooden door on the other side of the room, snapping the gray pony from his daydreams. He looks at the door in a half-alert daze, as if waiting for his visitor to speak again. As if on cue, the disembodied voice rings out again: "The note said to be here at six..."
Now fully settled back into reality, the stallion quickly trots over to the door and opens it. In steps his last client of the day; a pegasus with strong wings, a white coat and a long, unkempt black and orange mane with tail to match. A tired glance over his shoulder at the visitor reveals his cutie mark, which appears to be a pair of wings, encompassing a comet.
"So glad you could make it.", the gray stallion says, instantly putting on his best business smile and bowing his head in greeting after closing the door. "I'm more used to people coming to see me on their own. Seeing a patient who was just suddenly recommended to me....Well, it's a shock at the very least." The pegasus scoffs and looks lazily around the office his eyes seeming to land everywhere except on the only other pony in the room. "To be honest, I don't even know why I'm here...", he mutters blankly. "It's not like I've got any problems... I'm pretty normal as far as ponies go. So, how does this work? I lie down, tell you about my childhood, you take some notes, then gimme a little pep talk and send me on my way...?"
"I'm afraid it's not that simple.", the psych pony laughs genuinely, retreating to a recess behind his desk and producing a tape recorder from it. He noses the tape recorder into the middle of the room and deftly lands a hoof on the 'record' button without looking, his eyes focused on his patient. "Now then, let's start with your name and place of residence."
"Fire Fly.", the pegasus responds before taking a short pause to raise a curious eyebrow at the recorder. "Born and raised in Cloudsdale. Moved to Ponyville about two years ago... While we're on the subject, what am I supposed to call you?"
"Oh, this session is all about you.", the gray pony answers smoothly. "We needn't make things too awkwardly personal. For the duration of your time here, you may simply call me 'Doctor'."
"If you say so,.....Doctor...", Fire Fly says dismissively. "Alright, let's get this over with. "I don't plan on staying out too long. Can't be too careful, with all the disappearances around Ponyville lately, y'know?"
"I understand completely. As a matter of fact, I think I'd like to start my inquiry on that particular subject. According to your recommendation, you've been in contact with several of the recently missing ponies, correct?"
"More than a few, yeah... Are you implying something, Doc?"
"No, of course not. I simply want to hear from a direct source. Would you kindly recount your interactions with the last few ponies you talked to before they went missing? There are rumors circulating that Discord is involved."
"Yeah, right... Next you'll be telling me humans are real, and they're watching ponies from another world on some kinda box..."
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't even believe the rumors myself. I only need your perspective to support more logical theories as to what's happening."
"I could give it a shot. I'm an aerial performer, not a storyteller, Doc...."
"Oh, it's not quality I'm looking for.", the Doctor assures, gesturing for Fire Fly to lie down on the Chaise Lounge chair and waiting until he does so to continue speaking. "I'm only looking for consistencies. If the stories all add up in some significant way, we just might get to the bottom of these disappearances."
"Alright, if you really think I'll be of some help...", Fire Fly says hesitantly, stretching his legs out on the Chaise Lounge and allowing his wings to flop down the sides of the chair and brush the floor as he stares up at the ceiling. "I caught word about the disappearances first a few weeks ago . That was around the time I met Pinkie Pie."
"Excellent, we'll start there.", the Doctor announces, checking the tape recorder before wandering back to his desk to get comfortable. "Just try to forget I'm here, and tell the machine all about it."
