We Need to Talk.

by Maroonlover

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 1667

Characters get examined. They find out more about themselves. More than they thought possible. More than they wanted to.

You didn't ask to be here.

For me to steal your thoughts. Peer into your heart.

See what you really want. Know what you're all about. Get what's needed out of you.

But, we're here.

Let's talk.

Published 2020-05-25 04:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-05-27 02:11:51 UTC

Can I Ask Something of You?

Mind was currently sitting patiently as his spell concluded its work, allowing him access to Duwell's own mind.

She was reluctant at first to join him, as was Nick.

But, they both had to do this for themselves. They, as all beings are, have a sense of their own depths to being free.

These journeys the two are going ahead with won't be able to fix them completely. Or, maybe not even partially. It's very possibly it will only render them unable to every escape their own mental trappings. But, there is always the choice. A choice to weigh the negatives being worth the effort.

...

Where am I?

Duwell was well aware this was a where. Maybe not a when or how, but definitely a where.

As the void of greys, dark and light hues of the mute color adorned the ceiling.

No, no. They are the ceiling.

Mind simply ported in, his magic visibly downloading him as Duwell suddenly grey all hot and bothered by his entrance.

Duwell got up from the...floor as it were, ready to get some answers.

She barked back in her usual tone, "Hey! Where am I?! What'd you do?!"

The void spun and swirl, almost as if it was being commanded to, controlled. Scorned into twists and turns of a new oblivion, difference prominently being its purple saturation.

Of cooler purples that popped in and out through tiny explosions, dotting the skyline...if that made sense.

Mind asked of her, calmly, "Where am I? And, what is it you are doing?"

Before he let her deliver more wrath his way in glares and groans, Mind responded once more, "I mean to say this is you. Not in the sense that you are the void we are in, but this is where your inner self resides. Not the complex of it, though. Merely what you stress over. If I had access to your heart like Kelly, I could fully comprehend your entire being given enough time. How the heart seeks your desires. But, that's not what I'm here for. The mind, whilst terrible, is equally insightful, don't you agree?"

Duwell marched over to him, materializing a chain of pure magic for intimidation purposes, "I want you to go."

"Actually, you don't. This is your mind. I am only allowed access to where you let your guard down. I can't be a threat to your psyche. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here speaking with you. You might say you feel scared or worried, but you're simply not."

Duwell huffed, despawned her weapon, and calmly sat down on the ground, spitting out, "Whatever. Just get on with your questioning or interview or however you want to this form of torture to go by."

Mind's eyes and...cheeks slightly rose. For just an instant.

Torture? I'd never.

Duwell didn't think that. Those words. At least, she thought she hadn't thought them up...

Mind then stood up, walking away into the unknown as he understood, "Ah. I see. You're also syncing up with my mental state. Good."

He calmly proceeded to walk off into the distance, being masked by the void as he delivered a call to question, "Would you like to try a hoof at gambling?"

...

Duwell's will was like her anger. So, she rushed onward after hearing his proposal.

It's Important. Your Needs to be Said.

Duwell had just followed Mind.

Somewhere.

I was almost right behind him! Should've tethered us together with my chains. Now, where could he have gone?

Duwell rose her voice to chant his name, echoes dancing back and forth through the bubbles and blips of wine-hued horizons.

He didn't respond.

...

"Hello?"

A tiny voice yipped back at her, catching Duwell off-guard.

She didn't tune into their locale, so she gave shouting a second try, "Hello! Is anypony there?! You see a pony , kinda short?! Around mid-life crisis age?! Grey messy hair?!"

All she heard was a rather unsure, "Ummm...no."

Growling, Duwell trotted to where she guessed the little voice was.

Duwell was surprised to find that it wasn't herself she saw as a kid, but a little colt version of Nicholas, blood-red fur and spiky white mane and all.

Annoyed by where this headache was taking her, she demanded of him, "Listen up, brat. Dunno why you're here. Or, why you're a kid. Or, why you aren't a mini sort of me. But, go home. Or, whatever it is you need to to be less of a pain in my plot. You hear?"

The pint-sized Nick smiled that stupid grin his adult version would, red eyes down in an attempt to appear caring.

He stated as if fact, "Why would I be you? You hate yourself."

...

...

......

The surrounding area morphed into her old hometown. She and the little bastard both shared a road together, all kinds of ponies suddenly walking on by.

She took this perfect opportunity to ground his little concerned face into a wooden fence.

He whimpered as any punished child would as she spat back, "What'd you say? Say it again, punk. I don't care if all these ponies see my dragging you through town."

"But, it's true!!!"

Duwell's intense glare soured slightly less as she returned, "No. I don't."

Nick's purple eyes wavered from concern to determination, "Then, why can't you let me be me?"

Duwell's look morphed from aggression to surprise, "What?"

They prodded her in the chest, telling the Changeling-Hybrid, "Let me be me!"

Duwell, not even taking in that she wasn't towering over them anymore, delivered with her best scripted line, "Your name is Nicholas Maroon. You had everything I wanted. You deserved my life."

The pony formerly referred to as Nick shook their head, "Your name is Duwell Former. You got nothing you needed. You only got to live."

Duwell was going to cut them off before a voice called out to her, "Duwell! I want you home! Auditions are tomorrow!"

Tears welled up in Duwell's eyes.

It was her.

What could she do?

All Duwell could say to the so-called Nick was, "...Farewell. I...I'm going home now."

If You Don't Feel Like Yourself, I'd Like to Speak for You.

Nicholas had been waiting for Mind in his own little world, trios of red marks grazing up and down, back and forth, all looping in and out. Never certain of their path.

Nick wasn't even sure what here was.

Mind's voice was upon Nick's ears, popping in and out of from their exile whenever the time felt right.

Shall.

We.

Begin?

...

His eyes opened slow as a light so fierce gave him a headache, washing over him so brightly it stung.

Nick felt something odd, like he was not well.

And, he was back.

Here.

This may not be the town ge was born in, but it was where he was raised.

"When did I get here?", he spoke with a voice distinctly not his own.

Feminine.

Young.

Pausing, he glanced down into a nearby puddle, astonishment clear as day as he was now face-to-face with Duwell.

Not on the ground.

Is this some form of trick?

Pulling and stretching and smushing his face, he grew concerned by these developments, saying openly, "This doesn't seem good."

...

"This doesn't seem good," Duwell heard from her own lips as she now found herself jumped into Nick's body, still a tad panicked to say anything.

The panic grew as Farewell approached.

But, she didn't have her eyes on Duwell, who inhabited Nick's form. She had them on the copy of her filly self. So, she was less worried.

Still worried, but less.

Less worried. Less worried. Less worried.

I said the words three times. Why does it feel wrong?

Ugh. Now, I feel even more stressed out for some reason. It just needs to be right.

Correct. Cor-rec-t. Cor-rect?

No, no. Correct. Correct. Correct.

Still a number divisible by three. Why do I dislike the number three? I like math. I like counting.

Or, do I? Do I? Do I?

Duwell sat against the wall, lost in her thoughts as Farewell spoke kindly to her copy.

...

Nick was very confused still. He had just noticed himself, who was also younger. But, he wasn't in his body, and his body wasn't doing anything other than mumbling to itself. And, now saw this pony, whose name he didn't even recollect, asking him questions as though he knew the answer.

Mad for a reason that escaped his thoughts, Nick spoke in irritation, "I'm not Duwell, ma'am."

Farewell's half-lidded eyes widened in interest before asking, "Oh? Oh, no. I suppose I'm wrong here? No, no. Dear, it's mom. M-o-m. And, you very well know that. Save those acting roles for another day. We need to head home. Before we are bombarded by the paparazzi!"

Nick was going to just leave before being picked up by Farewell, sealing his fateful retreat into a useless fumbling for the ground.

...

Duwell snapped herself out of her own thoughts to note that her mother simply stole the copy!

And, as if on time, a pony Duwell had never met before in her life walked slowly up to greet her, even asking how her day went.

Duwell guessing by her prior knowledge on Nick guessed this was his mother.

Shrugging, Duwell asked, "What's your name...mom?"

The taste of that last word was honestly bitter. Almost no sweetness in it.

The pony with dark blue body and white colored mane sighed as she stated once more, "Hone. We've been over this. It's Know. And, no. I will not say it again. Or, past three times, so it sticks in your head. We gotta go. Your brother's at Zaed's house."

Huh. Her name really doesn't fit her color scheme. Odd.

But, she did feel a bit of herself get happier at the prospect of seeing Zaed.

So, gratefully took the older pony's hoof as they walked through town.