It is possible to tell a fair bit about a pony by examining their room.
The blinds were drawn and the lights off in the room, with only the fragments of sunlight peeking around the edges of the window giving shape without colour or detail to the surfaces - a small bed against one wall with covers scrunched against the wall, a low desk beside it covered in a mess of papers and knickknacks and a record-player on one side; a single shelf holding quite a few records and several books, most of them quite thin, with two more impressive covers up one side; a small set of drawers, as befitted a pony who collected clothing for special occasions only, but a large mirror beside it suggested one who had a care for their appearance regardless - or at the very least, who lived under the care of one who believed they should, as if nothing else suggested it, the toys scattered across the floor implied this was a foal's room.
The door to the room slammed open without warning, simultaneously letting in comparatively bright light from the hallway beyond, a piercing high-pitched wailing, and a unicorn filly with a purple-grey coat, a shock of brilliant aquamarine for a mane, a furious expression on her face and a large doll held carefully in her mouth. In the new light, the colours of the room became more obvious - the light blues and greens dominating the furniture and carpet of the room in patterns showing a young filly's preferences, the papers on the desk showing childlike drawings of beautiful ponies, and the half-open drawer had a small white dress with deep blue-purple highlights visible, folded carefully.
Two walls had nearly every scrap of free space covered in posters, cut-out images from magazines, and the occasional painting, with no real theme or pattern discernable beyond pretty celebrities or beautiful artwork. Another wall was bare but for a single long banner, upon which the name "Crystal Chime" was drawn in intricate artistic style, every letter a rainbow of colour and imagery with a different theme.
The filly who owned both the name and the room paused to almost reverently put the doll down on its hooves by the door, then spun angrily back to the doorway, sticking her head out and screaming to be heard above the din outside, her shrill voice actually managing to pierce the wail.
"SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE BRAT! YOU'VE RUINED HER! I'M NEVER LETTING YOU TOUCH MY THINGS AGAIN!"
The wailing outside redoubled in volume for a second before she bounded behind the door and slammed it shut with a single solid buck that shook the frame of the house. Almost instantly the sound cut out entirely, leaving the room once again dark and silent, save the heaving breaths of its occupant as she collected herself, now she was back in her sanctuary.
It took her a few long moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, before realising that she had slammed the door so hard that the doll she had so carefully placed down had been knocked over by the force of her slam. "Oh no, no no! I'm sorry!" She rushed over to it, gently righting it with her hooves and looking over it closely. Soon finding this to be insufficient, she picked it up again in her mouth gently, and hopped up onto the bed, hooking the blinds open, before being forced to turn away from the morning sunlight, her eyes having to adjust all over again.
Once she could see more than bright light and spots, she held up the doll to the light, her eyes tearing up as she examined the horrors inflicted on this poor casualty of sibling warfare. One brilliant yellow wing had been darkened stained with drool, and she could still see the toothmarks where her sister had dug in and refused to let go; she'd almost torn it clean off! She carefully checked the join, making sure that there was no sign of damage - fortunately, there was no such thing. But that wasn't what started it, and it certainly wasn't the worst of it.
No, that would be when she had started playing with the doll - the beautiful new doll Crystal had gotten only three days ago, the doll she had begged her parents for weeks to get her, weeks of chores and good behaviour, the doll that she was going to cherish forever and ever. Her sister had started playing that doll - without asking! - when breakfast hadn't even been finished yet, and had gotten sticky golden-brown syrup all through the beautiful, long, pink tail.
And then she had started chewing on it.
Chewing!
She looked at the tail with despair. It was obvious that it was beyond saving. The gorgeous pink had been stained a dirty brown, and the styled sweep had been twisted into a wild snarl, then locked in place. Some of the threading was torn or frayed; some had been pulled from the base entirely, and hung loose and wild, attached only by the tangle and sticky, dried syrup. It looked nothing like the flowing wave it had just hours ago.
"I'm so sorry..." Crystal whispered to the doll, a filly's imagination easily providing the image of the tiny pegasus curled up and whimpering in fear and horror at what had been done to her. "I promise I won't let that monster touch you again. You're safe now." She crooned, leaning over and grabbing a brush from beside the bed.
If her magic had come in properly, perhaps she would have been able to undo the worst of the damage, but as it is she had only the tools at hoof and the determination of youth. She started with the relatively untouched mane, brushing it back to its usual style before reluctantly starting work on the tail, trying to gently separate out the strands one by one.
Soon she found her hooves were getting sticky themselves just from handling the mess, and she was actually beginning to make the whole thing worse. Screaming in frustration, she nearly tossed the whole thing across the room, but remembered herself in time - hugging the doll close to her and crying.
There was nothing for it - the tail would have to go.
She dragged herself from the bed as if her body suddenly weighed three times as much, and picked up the scissors she normally used for magazines and pictures. Looking at some of her images for inspiration and comfort - finding a couple of them with short tails cheered her up a bit, but... but it wasn't the same.
Still, it was better than stuck together and chewed on. She took a deep breath, put the scissors to the doll's tail... trying to find the best point and angle, that would leave her with as much as possible while getting rid of all the mess...
I can't believe I'm doing this...
Sn-n-n-n-n-n-n-nip.
The scissors went through the tail with just a little resistance, a slightly grating vibration as each thread snapped one by one. It reminded her of having her hooves filed - she hated that feeling, could never understand how some ponies would pay to have it done to them.
And then her beautiful doll was clean, free, and ruined forever.
She sniffed as she looked at it again, trying different angles. It... it didn't look too bad. It wasn't horrible. But again, she could picture the doll looking aghast at the stump of her tail, three quarters of it sawn off. It didn't match her mane at all. But at least she was clean, and safe. Her sister would never get to hurt her again.
"Don't you worry. We'll play in here now. You don't have to go out there where it's scary. I'll take care of you, I promise." Crystal nuzzled into the doll to comfort her, and smiled, wiping tears from her eyes. "We don't need my stupid sister. We'll just play together, and have all the fun!"
~-~-~-~
Morning turned into afternoon, and Crystal Chime wasn't having any fun at all.
She had tried everything. Talking to the doll. Playing with her and her other toys. Having adventures. Showing off her pictures. Dress-up. Drawing. House. Tea parties.
Nothing worked. Every time she started getting into a game, she'd just think of her sister again, and that was it, it was ruined. The severed tail stuck up in the air as if to mock her every time she looked at the the poor doll.
Everything she tried just made her more and more frustrated. Nothing was fun. The doll was unresponsive in her imagination, as if too scared to join in the games.
"Stupid little sister! You BROKE her!" Crystal wailed suddenly to the room, scattering her toys across the floor again with a sweep of her hooves. "Nothing's fun anymore and it's ALL YOUR FAULT! I HATE YOU!"
"ALL MY FAULT! I MISS YOU!"
Crystal jumped her own height in the air as another voice echoed along with her own almost perfectly.
"What? Who's there? What's going on?" she demanded, panicking. Her head whipped around the room, checking under the bed and desk quickly, glancing out the window moments later. It couldn't have come from outside - the room was enchanted with impressive soundproofing, originally installed to prevent her loud music and singing from echoing throughout the house. But there was nopony in her room but her...
"...Must be dreaming or something..." She muttered. "It's not my fault. She broke my doll and I can have plenty of fun without he--"
"can't have any fun without her."
She whirled around suddenly. She'd definitely heard the voice that time, and it was definitely inside her room. Her little heart was pounding and she held the doll close to her, determined to protect it from whatever presence invaded her room.
"Wh-what do you want?" It had come from behind her... which meant maybe they were hiding in the drawers? That was silly, they were too full for anypony to fit in there. She snuck over gingerly, looking for any clue, her eyes searching over every bit of cover and mess, not daring to go nearer. There was no room for anypony to hide at all.
"Is it... is it a ghost?" How did you tell if you had a ghost in your room? She frantically thought through the stories she'd heard... could you see them in the mirror? She tentatively moved a little closer, until she stood only a short distance from the mirror, and could see her whole room reflected in it.
The only thing she could see in her room's image was her own reflection.
Which said wistfully, "Playing isn't as fun when it's all by yourself..."
Crystal Chime shrieked louder than she ever had before and dove under the bed.
Silence once again claimed the room for a long, long time. She shivered there under the slats in the darkness, clinging onto her precious doll for dear life, now relying on it to protect her as she had promised to protect it.
No further voice was heard.
She stayed under there as long as she dared, unwilling to move, until her legs finally stopped shaking and her breathing calmed back to something closer to normal. She knew she couldn't hide under here forever. She couldn't get to the door without passing by the mirror.
...It hadn't really tried to hurt her... just said stupid things about her stupid sister...
She slowly slunk out from beneath the bed, eyes on the mirror immediately as her reflection followed her every move. She stood up, refusing to blink in case it suddenly charged at her or ran away or something... tilting her head side to side, constantly making little sudden jerks and twitches to confirm that her reflection was hers, and it matched every one perfectly.
Apparently satisfied, she gave a sigh of relief.
"She didn't mean to hurt her." She clearly saw the reflection's lips moving as her eyes snapped wide. She took a couple of quick steps back, and the reflection followed suit. For the most part, their stances remained exactly the same - but while she stared directly at the mirror, her counterpart's eyes were on the doll instead.
There was something unbelievably creepy about having your reflection not meet your eyes.
"Stop it! Stop doing that, stop saying things!" she cried, turning away from the mirror. "I don't care! I don't want anything to do with that brat!"
"Wouldn't she be having more fun with your sister's doll as well?"
The two of them sat together having just gotten their dolls, talking through them as they made their way through the house - giving them the tour of each room in turn, introducing them to all the other toys... her yellow-and-pink pegasus nervous at the new location, jumping behind her at every sound; her sister's white-and-purple unicorn examining every little detail, judging the decor of the house and huffing while the two of them giggled at her antics...
She stopped for a moment, looking down at the doll in her hooves... then turned up her nose at the mirror.
"My sister can play with her doll, and I'll play with mine. She should have ruined her own doll! I didn't say she could touch mine!"
"She's getting lonely in this room, locked away."
The doll curled up in her arms, still not used to her new environment, after all she had gone through... she might have come to trust her new caretaker, but everything else was still new and strange, without any other old familiar faces...
"I... I have to keep her in here. She'll get hurt again. My sister's the one who ruined everything! Why are you talking to me anyway?!"
"Why was getting her so important in the first place?"
They had begged and wheedled, done everything in their power, been the best daughters they could, so they could get these new dolls, so they could play together with them...
"So I could have fun with them!"
"So we could have fun with them." The reflection said over her, then continued. "There's no fun in playing with them by themselves. They're supposed to be shared."
"But... but my sister ruined her... she'll do worse, she'll hurt her again. I don't want her to play with my sister!"
"Then you don't really want to play with her at all."
"I...!" Crystal swallowed hard, eyes watering yet again as she stared down at the eyes of the doll, unable to find the words to respond. Was that why it wasn't any fun anymore? It wasn't because the tail kept reminding her of what her sister had done... but because playing with her at all without her sister was...
"She knows she has to be more careful now. She won't hurt her again. But they need to be shared together, otherwise they're not worth anything. Forgive her. Share with her." Crystal looked back up into the eyes of her reflection, who looked back at her with a gentle smile. She looked back down at the doll again, thinking, then sighed.
"Okay. I'll give her one last chance. But that's all, okay!"
"-her one last chance. But that's all, okay!" The mirror echoed her exactly, this time, and the voice faded out towards the end of the sentence. Her reflection was back as it should be, matching ever every move from her hooves to her eyebrows. She blinked, and so did it.
"...Hello?" She heard only her own voice. Alone in her room again... She looked back down at the doll.
"Did... did that really happen?" She wondered. She lifted a hoof to poke at her horn. "Maybe it's my magic coming through! Wow! I've never heard of someone using magic like that before. What do you think of that?" She looked at the doll, and it looked back as only a pretend pony can. Its head flopped slightly to one side as she held it up.
And in her imagination, it was glancing at the door, as if to say, "I'd like to go see the others now? If that's okay..."
She sighed. "One last chance..."
And, dragging her hooves every step of the way, she moved over to open the door. The crying had stopped - that was a good sign at least. Carrying her precious companion with her, she moved her way out and closed the door behind her.
It is possible to tell a fair bit about how a pony has changed, by examining how their room has changed. Some of these changes are easy to interpret.
Today, the window was already open, but even if it had not been the first noticeable was that almost everything in the room was bigger.
The bed was bigger (and no less crumpled), the desk was higher and wider (and no less messy) - one could assume that the occupant themselves was larger. The chest of drawers had been replaced with a narrow but high wardrobe, suggesting a greater interest in the world of fashion. The mirror had been moved slightly to accommodate this new furniture but was otherwise unchanged - it would be large enough for the Princesses themselves, and needed no replacing.
The old record player was no longer on the desk, having been replaced with a more modern piece of equipment requiring magic to function, sitting in the corner. The single shelf bookcase had been replaced with one that reached nearly the ceiling, filled with titles both book and musical, and was clearly very well stocked. The top shelf held a collection of dolls, plush figures and statues looking over the room, among them a somewhat worn-looking yellow pegasus with a short-cropped tail.
Naturally, the larger furniture took up significantly more real estate on the walls, but if anything there was even more pinned up than previously, despite the lower available space. It was impossible to tell what colour the walls behind were, for the images overlapped over each other and covered up to the ceiling, and were beginning to encroach onto the ceiling as well.
A viewer would be hard-pressed to find many familiar pictures amongst the chaos - a few still remained, although they were often far from their original positions. The banner with her name still hangs proudly above the bed, and although the passage of time has faded the crispness of its colours slightly, it is still one of the most impressive pieces on the wall. In the bottom corner of the banner, well away from the artwork of the name, a new addition could be easily spotted - a series of five musical notes, a triplet and pair of quavers, in mostly ascending order except a slight drop in the fourth, in sharp black against the banner.
While previously there had been no true pattern to what made it up to be displayed, one could now sort the majority of the images into one of three categories - elaborate dresses, musicians (frequently in elaborate dresses), and photographs in various locations, the majority of them including a familiar filly, now grown into a young mare, posing cheerfully with various other ponies. The five musical note symbol could be seen sketched and poking out behind other images here and there, and in one or two pictures was noticable on the flank of Crystal Chime.
Very noticable, in fact, as she slammed the door open, stormed inside, slammed it shut behind her again. Barely even glancing to either side, she dove straight onto her bed in an angry flop, letting out a somewhat unladylike grunt as she did. Her pillow was soon wrapped in her magic, pulled over roughly to her muzzle, and then she screamed into it, louder and longer than anyone might expect might come from a creature her size, even muffled.
When her lungs finally gave way, she lay there, nose still buried in the pillow as she caught her breath, panting heavily but otherwise not moving for several minutes. Evidently she eventually got sick of this, for she thrust herself up suddenly, slamming her hooves down then having to take a moment to keep balance on the bed's soft surface.
Leaping down from the bed, she moved over to the bookcase like she planned to run it down if it didn't give way to her, whipping her eyes over the selection of records before yanking one out with her magic, whipping it from the cover and onto the player with the speed and grace that comes from long practice. A quick spell later and the machine whirred to life, and moments later the music started to play, beginning with a strong minor blues descent that repeated, building up quickly as more instruments added themselves to the mix.
As the lyrics started, she added her voice to them, overpowering the album effortlessly as she threw her full vocal power into the song, every note hit spot-on and cleanly, just like her name might suggest. She closed her eyes, trying to let herself drown in the music, expressing her special talent to its fullest.
She got about two lines and a half lines in before she couldn't take it anymore, her voice going from singing at full strength to a degrading growl as she gave up, hanging her head and tail low, letting the song go through to the end of the verse before it began to irritate her further, flicking a pulse of magic at the machine with a twitch of her horn, causing the music to scratch out for half a second before the needle came off the record.
She couldn't concentrate on her music right now, not with what had happened that day.
Not useful... not useful my flank... hah.
For a while she moped around her room, looking for something, anything, to take her mind off what had been said that morning. She opened books, and got a few lines into each one before slipping them back on the shelves. She looked over her pictures, getting a few moments of contemplative happiness there, but even with every surface covered with them there weren't enough to keep her distracted forever by themselves. She sorted through her dresses, though she couldn't have said what she was looking for. Several times she started her vocal exercises, but just didn't have the motivation to get all the way through them before it just started frustrating her all over again.
Eventually she found herself in front of the mirror. It was a silly habit of hers she'd picked up when she was a filly. She'd imagined once that her reflection had come to life and helped her out when she needed it, but that was kinda silly. Still, she found sometimes it helped to talk her issues out with herself, effectively. It wasn't like anyone else could hear her while she was in her room - the spells that kept her singing contained in her bedroom could keep her personal life safe just as well.
She looked herself over in the mirror. She'd grown fast in the last couple of years since she'd gotten her cutie mark, with slightly awkward lanky legs that the colts occasionally teased her about - although a couple of her friends assured her that they only did that because they were trying to make excuses for staring at them. Her coat had darkened a little since she was a filly, and was a strange thundercloud shade that might be called grey, purple or blue depending on the light it was in. A coat like hers that was a single unbroken shade over her whole body was considered desirable among unicorns, but she found it ironic that nobody could agree exactly what that shade was.
Her mane and tail were wild messes that her mother endlessly chided her to tame, but she preferred it that way; her eyes a deep sapphire blue. Her storm-and-sky colour scheme was more suited to pegasi than unicorns, perhaps, but she'd never minded that. No, what drew her attention at the moment was what was inscribed on her side. She twisted slightly, flicking her mane slightly to get it out of the way, and examined the series of notes on her side - notes she had been so ecstatic to see the first time they had appeared, a five-note riff she had hummed to herself so many times since they appeared she didn't even notice she was doing it anymore.
Notes that that apple-flanked farmgirl at school had had the, the audacity to call...
"Not useful." She repeated out loud, rolling each syllable around her mouth. For a moment, it seemed that would be all, then Mt Crystal Chime erupted in a burst of indignation.
"NOT USEFUL? How dare she? How DARE she! Just because she happens to be an earth pony who grows food for a living, she thinks she can just go around putting down other special talents because they don't... they don't put food on tables?"
She seethed wildly, her vocal training and talent clear as her anger rose higher and higher, her fur standing on end as she paced back and forth in front of the mirror, the symbolic melody taunting her every time she turned. She yelled at her reflection as if it would magically fix everything.
"Guess what? I don't get to choose what mark appears on my flank! I don't have a family tradition spanning back generation after generation after generation! But even if I did get to choose I wouldn't have chosen any differently! I love music! I don't CARE if you don't think it's USEFUL. It makes ponies happy! It makes ME happy! It's fun and it's awesome and... and you can just go CHOKE on your apples if you love them so much! Just because you can put them on the table and see how much work you've done doesn't mean you can... you can..."
She trailed off suddenly, completely losing her train of thought, when she realised her reflection hadn't been ranting along with her for the last few vitriol-filled shrieks.
It watched her with a patient look on its - on HER face - as if wanting to be sure she was finished before it started. Her fur stayed on end, but no longer due to anger and aggressiveness, as her reflection spoke in her voice.
"If she got to choose, maybe she would have chosen differently."
She ran up to the mirror, pressing her face and hooves against it, staring straight into the eyes of her counterpart, who still seemed to be forced to mirror her body in full except for her face. "Celestia's mane. You're real. I thought I just imagined you before. You're real."
"Aren't there more important matters at hoof?" her reflection replied, its voice slightly strained, muffled by the glass pressed up against her snout.
"What. Oh. No! You're real! My reflection is talking to me!"
"And maybe you should listen to what it's saying. Why do you think she lashed out at you like that? Why she said that?"
"I don't know! I didn't do anything to her!"
"Didn't you?"
"No! We were just talking about how we got our cutie marks, and suddenly she turns around and yells at me that my talent is Not Useful. Like I'm a drain on Equestria just by existing! That's such a typical earth pony thing to say, feeling like they're so much more special to how everything works than us unicorns!"
"You don't really mean that." Her reflection's voice was flat and hard, making her flinch.
"I... well, I... where does she get off saying that sort of thing to me, huh?"
"Well, think about it from her point of view. How many ponies have special talents in music in your class?"
"Just me, duh! It's frustrating as all hell, I can never get anyone to jam with."
"And how many have apple marks?"
"Well, there's like... four of them. There's a lot of Apple family in these parts. You know them, they get around ever-- eep." she cut off at the withering glare her reflection was giving her, feeling like a foal caught swearing.
"She's surrounded by apples everywhere she goes. Everyone she lives with has an apple mark. Most of the ponies she plays with have apple marks. One of her teachers has an apple mark! She looks back, and thinks no matter what happened, I was always going to have apples on my flank. And then she talks to this unicorn who's gushing about a special talent that nobody in her family has ever had before, how her family is really supportive of her branching out into new fields, how she's really excited about it..."
"Are you trying to tell me she's jealous?"
"Is it that hard to believe? Maybe she would like the idea of being a musician."
"It didn't sound like it. She sounded pretty down on it when she said it wasn't useful."
"Just like you meant every word when you told her that you bet every apple she ever bucked fell down rotten, huh?"
"I..." She desperately searched for a comeback, and came back with nothing. "I really said that, didn't I?"
"And you can just imagine her sitting in her room just like you. She probably doesn't even realise how much she hurt you with her words - just like you didn't realise how badly you hurt her. And then tomorrow, you both go to school, and you barb each other some more, and soon you won't even remember why you started, you'll just hate each other."
It really didn't take any imagination to see it happening. "...So... what should I do?"
"Stop it before it starts. Apologise for what you said. Be the bigger mare. Just... show her you're happy to care about her. And her problems."
"I... I think I can do that." She was surprised to realise. It... it didn't even sound that hard.
"And if you really want to show you care about her... help her shine. See if you can convince her to take up music. I think she'd like that. She's holed up having to be one of a hundred apples, all the same - maybe you can help her break out of that. You'll have a friend for life if it works."
"...Are you sure you're my reflection?" Crystal put forward suddenly, grinning wryly. Her mirror counterpart blinked.
"What?"
"I could never think of that. There's no way I'm that smart. Or that nice."
Her reflection smiled widely. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of. On both counts."
"Huh. Well, if I can't believe myself, who can I believe? Thanks. I better figure out how I'm gonna do this. I wonder what sort of music she likes? Probably country, they always love country mu--"
She paused, realising she was delving into stereotyping the apples again, but her mirror image was following her perfectly once again, apparently having nothing more to say on the matter.
She shrugged softly, moving to her record shelf and muttering as she started picking out a selection of records, but constantly glancing at the mirror out of the corner of her eye as she did. She never caught it doing anything out of the ordinary, however, and was forced to stop when the time came for dinner, and she left the room with a bounce in her step and a five-note tune on her tongue, closing the door softly behind her.
