Tales of Pony Insanity
The Mare Before Me
~Axôlú
_--_--_
Before me sat a mare. Her coat, a sickly yellow, complimented the crimson locks of her head and plot. Her amber eyes gazed into my own, with the same curiosity as I held for this pony. A short horn stood within the split of her ragged mane. Upon her flanks were emblazoned matching gold-like rectangular frames.
I spoke to this mare, in a manner that would not frighten her. She opened and closed her mouth, moving her tongue in a strange yet dexterous way. To my surprise, her lips produced no sound; not a single syllable was uttered by her movements. But even more confounding, her throat contorted exactly as mine did--visibly vibrating--yet with no sound. I spoke again, this time louder, still receiving the same response of soundless vocalization. I grew annoyed by her actions, angry even, and in my madness shouted at the mare. The mare’s demeanor instantly changed. She reacted violently, her eyebrows lowering as she opened her mouth to silently scream at me. Startled by her aggressiveness, I backed away. The mare slid away in fear, her ears flattening.
The mare stared at me again, a look that I cautiously returned. I felt pity for her; regret that I scared her back into shyness. I wished to comfort the mare and in my compassioned state I reached a forelimb out to her. I stretched to touch her shoulder, to feel her smooth coat against my hoof. She too extended her leg, and we met halfway. My hoof hit a cold barrier, refusing to yield to either of our advances. I realized; that this wall was a magical force field, created by the mare’s horn to halt any movements towards her.
I was confused as to why the mare would want such protection. Any force field I had encountered before only served as defense when no other options remained. The mare could run, she could hide, she could speak, but she did nothing of the sort, blankly resting within an ethereal fortress of her own creation. I knew no such spell, nor did I have the means to breach the barrier.
A dawning realization hit me. The mare’s familiar features were not just her own. I sat, staring at a perfect replication of my body. Horror stretched across my features as I realized yet again, that no mare could be me apart from myself. The formerly beautiful mare was nothing but a foul beast. An abomination created only to impersonate and steal scraps of love. The mare who sat before me was a changeling.
The mare must have recognized my expression, for she too backed away in terror. I kept my gaze on her, both of us glaring at one another as we exited the room. I would have run, but duty bound me. The changelings had invaded the sisters of the heavens’ own home, Canterlot, to satiate their eternal hunger. I felt hate for her. The thought that I had fed her with my sympathy disgusted me. She had already invaded my home, leaving me with but one option. Calling for help wouldn’t help, lest the demon take control of me and turn my aid away to feed more upon my emotions. I would give her no love. I would supply her with only my aggression, only my hatred. We would have to fight.
I opened a drawer and levitated a reflective steel knife, its wooden hilt engraved with an image of a rose; a fitting tool to fight the changeling. The blade rose to my face. Staring into the knife, I saw the mare. Indeed, this weapon would protect me from her, if not frighten her away. My lips muttered a blessing to Celestia and Luna, to protect me from the changeling. I stepped back towards the room, prepared to battle the mare.
We trotted into the room. I levitated the knife, and to my irritation, the changeling lifted one of her own. I had the blessing of goddesses. She had the blessing of a mere queen among a hive. Her enraged expression matched my own as I charged her. She did not flee, and so she would face my blade. I struck out at her, a movement which she parried with a skillset not unlike my own. I struck again. The mare countered. I hacked away with blinding fury, such that I did not see what truly impeded my assault. My hooves retreated, exhausted, and I saw the magical barrier, cracked. She had no skill; she was simply matching my movements as her innate magic shielded her! Reinvigorated by this revelation, I charged again. I sliced at the barrier, cracking the supposedly impenetrable force field. The barrier shattered. I watched the dazzling display fall to the floor, a victorious smirk on my face.
The changeling disappeared. My onslaught was worthless. I held the knife in my yellowed aura, watching the shadows. I waited for movement. I waited for seconds, minutes, an hour, but no mare revealed herself. No, my attack was successful. I had protected myself, my home. I had done my duty to the Princesses of Equestria, ending the invasion of my home, and maybe even saving others from the mare’s threat.
I suddenly grew remorseful, coming to an understanding more harrowing than the others. My knife, a tool made for the simple act of preparing food was transformed into an instrument of harm. I transformed that knife. Not only had I made a weapon from cutlery, but I had wished harm upon the changeling. As malicious as the mare was, no such being deserved pain at the hooves of another. Before, to think I would take righteous joy in injuring anypony, anyone, was inconceivable, yet here I had attempted that very act.
I sunk to the floor, tears spilling from my muzzle onto the floor. I lay among the shards of my broken innocence, destroyed when the changeling fled from my ill-conceived assault. I lay among the shards of broken glass.
Contraemotion (incomplete)
Tales of Pony Insanity
Contraemotion
Axôlú
_--_--_
Oh, hello there. I don’t get many visitors in the mental ward. At least, not after most of them had already visited me. Believe me, the expression I wear and my tone of voice, what you call ‘anger’, is how I express tranquility. You’re in fine hooves, ignore the sneer. So you wish to hear a tale… something about my experiences? Based on that little notepad, you probably want to know why I’ve been sent here. Well, I haven’t been sent here at all. No, rather, this simple mare chose to reside in her immaculate tomb. Please, have a seat on the floor. It’s a bit cold, but you’ll get used to it. I’ve told this tale before to many ponies, but most of them refused to understand. That was sadness there, when I just smiled.
If you haven’t already guessed, this is my special talent. My cutie mark, formed near birth, a bright yellow frown and a deep blue happy face, defines my expressions. The other ponies always expressed their emotions opposite to me, and so I learned. I taught myself at an early age how to interpret them differently. That interested look I see on your face? For me… that’s boredom. Excuse that, I’ve gotten off track.
I recently learned this spell; a memory spell, if you will. It’s—yawn—quite fascinating, to be able to share the entire experience. Just let me touch my horn to your skull. Of course it doesn’t hurt. Don’t worry; the only pain you will experience is mine.
_-_-_
I walked along the dusty road, frowning at the thatched rooftops of my soon-to-be home. After Appleoosa, a new town would be more than a relief. At the memories, my mouth curved upwards like the more superstitious of the cowfillies had lifted me from my home and thrown me from their settlement. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, returning the frown to my face. With a dragging scuff of an amber forehoof, I made my way to the tallest building. I presumed it the town hall; where the mayor could lend me a home, and hopefully a restraining order for the entire population of Appleoosa.
A pink mare leapt in front of me and interrupted my thoughts. My neon-teal mane blew back from my face as I lowered my eyelids in surprise at the excited furry onslaught. Pink. So much pink. It was like looking at sapient blue-eyed cotton candy, which, based on her attitude, she probably was.
My ears flattened, my pupils contracting. This mare certainly was amusing; I couldn’t help but shrink back at her hyperactive behavior. The mare grinned at me, forcing her forehead against mine.
“HI! I’ve never seen you in Ponyville before and I know eeeeveryone in Ponyville oh and my name’s Pinkie Pie!” Pinkie gasped as her hooves lifted from the ground in an affront to physics. “That means you aren’t from Ponyville which means that you’re new here and that means I need to throw yooooooou~” she paused, still levitated about a hooflength from the road. “A PARTY!”
My lips curled further downward, tears forming in my eyes. This Pinkie Pie was certainly a friendly mare, I’d have to get to know her better. “Of course. I’d be more than happy to come to a party,” I sniffed. If this was the kind of greeting I received from everypony, I’d be one happy mare.
“Awww, who’s a frumpy-wumpy filly. Auntie Pinkie can cheer you right up! See ya’ later, crocodile!” She chirped, catapulting herself from her midair position towards a strange gingerbread-like house.
“But I’m not even related to you.” I articulated, thoroughly confused. I continued on my journey to the town hall, glaring at the passing ponies. They seemed nice enough, maybe I should introduce myself.
“Hey! You!” I snarled at a similarly colored unicorn. Her curled blue mane and tail sprouted from her lemon-yellow body, magenta eyes adorning her face. She stared back at me with what I knew was fearful surprise. She pointed a shaking hoof at herself. “Yea! You! What’s your name?” I smiled slightly at her reaction.
“My name’s Bell Perin.” The mare relaxed, replacing her terrified frown with an inquisitive smile. She stepped forward, holding her hoof out to shake mine. I let my frown return and took her hoof. “I haven’t seen you before, are you from out of town?”
“Yes.” I hung my head. “Somepony named Pinkie invited me to a party today.”
“What? Why are you crying?” Bell lifted my muzzle and her hooves gently wiped the tears from my eyes. “Pinkie Pie’s parties are the most fun in Equestria.” She smiled warmly. I deepened my frown.
“No, no, I’m quite happy. I express happiness by crying and frowning, see?” I poked my cheek with the edge of my hoof.
“Oh.” She squinted. “That’s strange... other ponies won’t know that.” Her eyes widened and a grin broke out across her muzzle as she raised a forehoof. I imagined a candle bursting into flames above her head. “I have an idea! What if I went with you and smiled at everypony? I could keep them from getting the wrong idea.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” I said in monotone before yawning.
“Then why did you—oh, opposite emotions, right.”
We trotted together, side by side, towards the town hall. I continued to leer at the ponies, who subsequently veered away. Bell gave them all reassuring smiles, but they distanced themselves from us nonetheless. Maybe I should inform her of our temporary failure.
“This isn’t working, Bell.” I whispered cheerfully.
“You’re right, wait a second.” She inhaled deeply. “Hey! This mare experiences the wrong emotions! She’s not angry at you at all!”
The ponies immediately halted. They stared at us, many with raised eyebrows or cocked heads. That was certainly a way to attract attention. We calmly cantered away, heavy stomps in my case and light hooffalls in Bell’s. The townsfolk returned to their business, paying us no more heed.
“It’s expresses, not experiences.”
“That’s what I said!” she whispered back.
The remainder of the walk to the town hall proved calming. Vendors sold various foods and accessories in their brightly colored stalls. I took in all the pleasant scents; the aroma of a thousand flowers, of the multitude of goods made by the hooves of many hardworking ponies. There was a certain atmosphere in Ponyville that I could appreciate. Living here wouldn’t be nearly as bad as Appleoosa. Of course, the ponies near the stalls expressed distaste with my facial arrangement.
“We’re here!” Bell sang. “Need any help with the mayor stuff?”
“Thanks, I really appreciate it, but I’ll be fine” I whimpered.
_-_
“We don’t like your kind ‘round these parts, missy”
