//------------------------------// // Lesson 4 - Challenges of Marriage: Madame Misunderstand // Story: Discord Teaches Philosophy: On Love // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// It was certainly eye-catching, that behind the food court of burnt dinners, smoked lunches and weeping breakfasts was a good size purple tent that had a levitating crystal ball with a pair of Discord’s hands at the very top. Right underneath it was a sign that welcomed visitors that were written in gold, curvy letters: Madame Misunderstand. “What this place?” Yona inquired. “From the looks of it,” Twilight said, “I’d say Discord is going for the fortune-telling theme with this.” “Ah’ve seen somethin’ like this once.” Braeburn commented, “Even went inside ta see what would happen. The lady there did tell mah fortune, sayin’ that Ah’ll be loosin’ a lot of bits in one day.” “Really?” Ms. Harshwhinny raised an eyebrow, “What happened?” “Every five minutes, she kept sayin’, ‘That’ll be twenty bits please.’” “Discord did say that this was part of the lesson, right?” Sandbar asked. “He did,” Troubleshoes nodded. “Somethin’ about seein’ what yer spouse really is sayin’. Ah think.” He frowned, “Ah’m goin’ in.” “What?” Braeburn went in front of his husband, “What for? Ah thought we’d speak all the time.” “You do.” He said, walking around him. “What’s got inta you?” “Nothin’,” he replied before walking into the tent. Braeburn stomped a hoof and shook his head, snorting out of frustration. “Does that happen a lot?” Yona asked. “More recently…” Braeburn replied before walking into the tent with the other couples following after. Inside the purple tent was a dark area where the only light within the space was coming from a glowing crystal ball on a small rounded table. In the light of the glowing orb, Troubleshose had already sat down on one of the six large white velvet pillows that had embroiled stars sewn on all of them. Following Trouble’s example, the other couples sat down around the table. Braeburn sat next to his husband, neither of them said a word. As soon as everyone sat down, suddenly there was a mushroom cloud of smoke from a fog machine, sparklers, and Discord in drag that rose from the floor. It was something between hilarious and horrifying to look at the same time. He had on a long, black, curly wig; complete with red lipstick and pink rouge on his cheeks. There were golden crescent rings in his ears. And the dress resembled a drunken gypsy. “Welcome you confusing, confounding creatures,” Discord greeted them in a voice that was high in pitch yet gravel sounding enough to make it sound like he smoked a whole field of poison joke. “Tis I, Madame Misunderstand. Your ultimate guide to-” Suddenly Discord went into a coughing fit. “Goddesses! Doing that voice is murder…” Taking out an inhaler, he stuck it in his mouth and breathed deep. “How does my voice actor do it?” “What?” Twilight asked but it went unacknowledged. “Okay,” He waved a claw, “so I take it you’re all probably wondering what this part of the overall lesson is about?” They nodded. “So, dropping the old fortune-teller act, I’m going to give it to you all straight from the bottle. For most who have been in a relationship, most would agree that a key factor in making it work is all about having good communication skills, right?” “Pretty much,” Braeburn nodded, “at least, that’s what Pa told me.” “Even so, there’s also another side to communication that often tends to be overlooked. Something so basic, that we often assume that those we end up marrying would at least pick up. What I’m talking about, is the skill of listening to someone – while reading between the lines – so to speak. In other words, hearing what they’re saying, and interpret what they mean.” Yona raised a hoof at that point. “Yona confused. Isn’t point of talking to say what Yak means?” “In some cases, sure. Taking someone’s word at face value is rightfully judged as a sign of respect. Even downright practical at times too. When it comes to love, however, it might be extremely kind, if not more accurate, to look closely at the meanings and phrases in which your loved one said. Because as much as we want to say what we want, there are a few things that are so humbling, so cripplingly humiliating, that they would have to find another way to say it without expressing it.” Ms. Harshwhinny raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” Discord grinned sadistically, “Well thank you for volunteering! Let’s see what you’ve said…” Discord raised his claw/paw over the crystal ball, and upon rubbing it, he grabbed a remote to change the channel with it. “Let’s review a younger you, back when you had been seeing someone.” The crystal ball then showed an image of a younger Ms. Harshwhinny, probably in her twenties sitting on a bench in a park. Next to her was a stallion that seemed to get increasingly frustrated. “C’mon, there’s got to be something you want to do.” The stallion said, “I mean, it is your turn to choose what we do here.” The younger Harshwhinny frowned, didn’t look at her date. “It’s fine.” “But-” “Tell you what,” she turned to her date in an impatient tone, “I don’t mind what you want to do. Just pick something, you can do whatever you want. Let me know what you decide.” Discord pressed a button on his remote. He pressed another button to reverse the moment back a few seconds before pausing. “Now this is interesting. But first, care to explain what just happened here?” Harshwhinny gave out a tired sigh. “In that relationship… which lasted for a few months… I noticed that he increasingly became concerned about what he wanted over mine. It got to the point where I felt ignored entirely. I said it because I was frustrated and, to a degree, gave up.” “Frustration is a good word. And you almost said what the real reason is behind that statement. Here, let me translate it for all of you.” After clicking a few buttons, the words: Emotional Translation. Came on. This time, the younger Ms. Harshwhinny now said: “Since I’m so angry at you, and since you tend to brush me off, I’m forced to control you without saying anything.” “The truth is,” Discord said, “having legitimacy in a relationship is often very vague. There are countless things we want to convey to our loved ones in what we want to do, but sadly, we can’t control them like puppets – no matter how fun that is. It’s only when we feel so helpless, so unheard that sometimes the only thing to do is to demand without asking – imply without saying what you want.” “That sounds a little underhoof,” Twilight commented, raising an eyebrow and casting a judgmental eye at her partner. “In Harshwhinny’s case, she’s not doing it to be sneaky. At this moment in time,” he waved to the crystal ball, “she’s up against the very limits of what she can and can’t control. I’m sure she had to be… what’s the phrase? Passive-aggressive, because it’s her subtle way of getting revenge for having her wants and needs to go unheard. At the same time, on the other end, the one receiving this finds it hard to pick up what’s really going on. To them, they feel guilty, being controlled, if not a bit sad. She’s clever enough not to leave any traces of her manipulation for her date to connect the dots. Sure, it may sound like she’s giving him plenty of options, but within that sort of relationship, the guy will have to do what he hasn’t directly been asked to do.” Ms. Harshwhinny folded her forelegs. “You’re making me sound like the bad guy.” “No. All I’m saying is your manipulation has a tender source – because your date didn’t give you options, you won’t give him any without him realizing it. I tip my wig to you.” “So, Discord,” Twilight inquired, scratching her chin, “is the point of this is that although what they say sounds mean, they’re conveying a message that’s more poignant than it sounds?” “In a way, yes. But sometimes, the opposite is also true. There are incidences where the sugar-coated surface covers a much darker truth that we know the other might be too fragile to hear.” Twilight tilted her head in confusion, “In what way?” “For example…” Discord pressed a button on the remote in which events are speed into reverse. “Recall the last serious relationship you were in. The one that sent a hundred-thousand fanboys screaming. Class, pay very close attention to what the Princess of Friend-zoning says here.” After pressing a button, what the three couples saw in the crystal ball was something that had the features of Twilight Sparkle (similar mane-style, color tones, and cutie mark), yet this creature didn’t resemble the princess at all. This… thing was lanky, ape-like, and it came with clothing that vaguely resembled pony fashion but tailored to suit this strange body. Next to the odd-looking Twilight was looked similar in form, yet they presume was male. A short cut blue mane, orange-tinted coat, and wearing a white shirt with a blue lightning bolt on it. “What Yona looking at?” Yona asked, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. “Classified,” Twilight deadpanned. “You’re looking at her Ex.” Discord pointed out. “Now listen to the conversation and see where the relationship went up in smoke.” After pressing play, the male ape thing in the crystal ball put a soft paw around the freaky Twilight. “Did I do something wrong?” The male ape asked. “No, it has nothing to do with you, Brad. I wouldn’t trade this weekend for anything.” “Yet you have to disappear for another month or so? Twilight, I thought you liked me.” “I do. I care about you so much. You’ve made me feel things I’ve never felt with anyone else before. It’s just I might need to have a little distance is all…” Discord pressed pause. “Did anyone pick up on that?” “On what?” Sandbar inquired, “Neither of them said anything that would cause concern. It sounded like that Twilight-looking thing does like the other guy but needed some space.” “Yet, it is exactly when their words have turned into honey that you should be the most suspicious.” “What’s there to be suspicious about?” Questioned Twilight. “I did mean what I said back there that I needed some time away.” Discord raised an eyebrow, he pressed the translation button before pressing play. “You may be nice, but you bore me. I want out of this.” “Right before the next meeting, you had a hunch that what happened between you and Brad was over.” The Discord in drag pointed out, stroking his goatee. “Ask any psychologist, and they would tell you that one making such speeches is trying to fool their partner and themselves towards a more sentimental approach. Puffing up all that’s sweet, good, and pure with the relationship while overlooking the sour, bad, and tainted sides. As a certain novelist Marecel Proust best puts it: ‘In love, it is often the one who loves less that makes the tender speeches.’ What happened between you and Brad could have several reasons why in the end you decided to break up. Perhaps you realized the bar you set for each other was too high; that expressing difficult news or delivering complicated emotions wasn’t part of the deal.” “Hey, this was my first relationship,” Twilight said, eyes glancing off and her cheeks tinted an embarrassing shade of red. “We didn’t know what we were doing.” “Always go into a relationship with an open mind and rock-bottom expectations,” Discord advised, “and don’t be afraid to confront an issue between the two of you. Saying nothing is not the same as preserving a relationship. Now let’s see, who’s next?” He pressed a button on the remote in which the scene in the crystal ball changed to feature Sandbar and Yona exiting a movie theater. Immediately, both Yona and Sandbar jolted up. “Uh… Discord,” Sandbar said in alarm, “Let’s skip this one.” Discord put the crystal ball on pause. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, “What’s the matter? This is a perfect example.” Sandbar shook his head nervously, “Really, we don’t want to see it.” “This before we had big fight,” Yona said, her hooves covering her mouth. “We said things that were hurtful.” “Which is exactly why,” Discord smirked, “we need to do an autopsy of what started and ended the argument.” He pressed a button to play the moment. In the crystal ball, Yona and Sandbar walked out of the movie theater. Yona took notice of her coltfriend who looked as if something was troubling him. Although Sandbar didn’t look at her, his expression showed that there was something deeply upsetting. “Sandbar okay?” Yona asked. “Huh?” Sandbar looked up. “Oh, no. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.” “Then why Sandbar look like Sandbar about to make mushroom cloud?” “Yona,” Sandbar said firmly, “I’m fine.” Discord paused that moment and rewind it a few seconds. “Here’s a tip, Sandbar, if anyone goes about with an expression that seems off and they tell you that they’re fine – they’re not. Oh, and Yona? Here’s what Sandy was really trying to say.” He pressed a button to translate the moment back to them. “Sandbar okay?” Yona asked. “Huh?” Sandbar looked up. “Oh, no. I’m not fine. Around you, I feel hurt, and I’m on the edge of an uncontrolled rage but I’m too scared to voice anything. If I do, I know I will break this relationship that I don’t want to be broken.” “Then why Sandbar look like Sandbar about to make mushroom cloud?” “Yona,” Sandbar said firmly, “Even though I’m a full-grown pony, you make me feel like a helpless foal.” Heads slowly turned to a mortified Sandbar who was so shocked at what he heard that his jaw hang open. But a moment later, he was sucked into a very tight hug in Yona’s very strong hooves. “Sandy,” Yona said, taking pity on him, “why did Sandbar not say that before? Could have avoided argument.” “I know why.” Discord chirped. “And also… he looks like he needs air.” “Oh,” Yona let go of Sandbar who drew in several deep breaths. “In Sandbar’s case, having to admit that he feels hurt by anyone – you especially – is so emotionally crippling, so humiliating, that I’d bet even if he did try, he would be choked on his tears before he could get a word out. But it’s pretty understandable. Most find it deeply embarrassing to admit to someone they genuinely care about that their loved ones have the godlike power to unnerve, hurt, and even destroy them.” “But Yona would never hurt Sandbar.” “I think you misunderstand. For Sandbar, to place not just his strengths, but his weakness at your mercy – he’s placing a lot of hope that you would treat it with kindness. To be fair, you never knew either that when you either abuse or brush off his vulnerability, his hopes are crushed. His decoration to you that he’s just ‘fine’ is an attempt – as unconvincing as it is moving – as a last-ditch claim to be loved properly. “So,” Discord cleared his throat, “if that’s what started the argument, let’s skip ahead towards the end of it.” Pressing a button on the remote, the imagines within the ball sped up to where the couple made it home, followed by a burst of shouting that seemed to go on for some time. But at one point where Yona slams and breaks a door did Discord paused it, rewind it a little before pausing it again. “And now we get to what might be the more fascinating side-effects in love. Let’s give it a listen.” Discord pressed play, and what came out was Yona’s screaming. “DROP DEAD YOU BUCKING PLOTHOLE!” The Yona in the ball screamed as loud as she could before slamming a door in Sandbar’s face, to which the door itself shattered and showering an already hurt Sandbar in splinters. Yona covered her face in embarrassment. “Yona didn’t mean to.” “Let me finish, because what happened here just makes this moment so fascinating to me.” Discord said as he reverses the moment back and pressed a button to translate her words. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU BUCKING PLOTHOLE!” The Yona in the ball screamed as loud as she could before slamming a door in Sandbar’s face, to which the door itself shattered and showering an already hurt Sandbar in splinters. This got Yona’s attention. “Yona confused. What teacher mean?” “Calling your partner, the worst names you can think of isn’t that blunt or simple as it sounds. I mean, for starters, have you ever noticed that you rarely say or do the same things to Sandbar than you would towards anyone else? The fact that you could show your nastier side means that deep down, you feel comfortable enough so much dare to tell them that they should drop dead. Besides, for Sandbar, this is more or less a good thing.” Sandbar’s mouth dropped at the statement. “But she got angry at me and practically told me that she hated me. In what universe is that a good thing?” “To rehash a lesson from another story – most tend to think that angry characters like say… Sombra was a very gloomy type because someone like him gets angry a lot. But dig underneath the shouting, the destruction of property, and the colorful vocabulary that vomits out of their mouths, you’d find that there is a wild optimist underneath it all. The source of anger isn’t some unbalanced chemical in the brain, but is in fact, too much hope that fuels it.” He noticed both Sandbar and Yona looked unconvinced. “Tell me, Yona, do you ever speak like this with anyone you work for – or your friends for that matter?” “No.” “Why?” Yona opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say at first died on her lips. Closing it, her expression changed into a puzzled look. Surely, this should be easy to answer, yet sitting there in silence for about a solid minute, she offered an answer. “Being polite?” “No,” Discord shook his head. “It’s because you don’t have the same level of intensive care as you do for Sandbar. From friends, you’re not bothered because you don’t expect much in return back from them; so, there’s very little need to muster rage whenever they disappoint you. It’s only when you set your expectations of Sandbar so dauntingly, dramatically high do you allow to give way to have him be drowned in your fury. The fact that you’re able to show that you are upset at all to him means that you trust him to take it on the chin.” “Don’t know about y’all,” Braeburn commented, “that one jus’ seems a bit too far-fetch.” “And thank you for volunteering!” Discord smiled as he turned to him, “Now let’s see if there’s anything good here…” Discord pressed a button to change the imagines in the crystal ball to show Braeburn and his husband. There were flashes of moments that came and went, so fast that no one there could truly make out what was going on. Yet, Discord alone seemed to know what he was looking for as he suddenly paused it to where it shows Braeburn near a dining table with a newspaper while Troubleshoes was nearby a kitchen sink. “Ooh! This is a good one!” He smirked, “Hey Braeburn, riddle me this: what do you and Cozy Glow have in common?” He pressed play. “Hey hon?” The Braeburn from the Crystal ball called out. “Have ya taken out the garbage yet?” “Well Ah-” Troubleshoes started to speak but was quickly interrupted. “Have the weeds been pulled out from the garden?” “Ah was gonna do-” “What about the laundry? And the apples been harvested? Did we get the mail last night? Oh, and don’t forget ta put away the dishes.” “That’s what Ah’m-” “And the grass outside is lookin’ a little too overgrown so one of us needs ta mow it.” Discord pressed pause and rewind the footage. “By now, Trouble, you may be easily be forgiven for thinking that given how cold, controlling, autocratic, even tyrannical he might be when your husband only gives you one command after another. Even the icy tone of it sounds as if all the love has fled elsewhere. However,” he pressed a button to translate, “I’m going to let you in on a secret – one so humiliating, that it threatens to shatter your husband’s façade for what he is.” He pressed play. This time, what the translation said caught Troubleshoes’ attention. “Hey hon?” The Braeburn from the Crystal ball called out. “Lately Ah’m gettin’ worried that you’re slippin’ out of mah affections.” “Well Ah-” Troubleshoes started to speak but was quickly interrupted. “A’m sad ya never do anythin’ with me anymore.” “Ah was gonna do-” “Unless Ah ask ya to.” “That’s what Ah’m-” “Because of this, Ah’m tryin’ ta control ya procedurally because Ah feel so out of touch with ya emotionally.” Trouble looked over to his husband. “Brae… why didn’t you say anything like that?” “Because,” Discord answered, “the key is in that riddle I asked. What does he and Cozy Glow have in common? Answer…” He leaned forward. “They share a common fear.” Braeburn raised an eyebrow, “And what would Ah be afraid of?” “The fear of losing control over the greatest good in your life – Troubleshoes. Or, more accurately, all those demands you made, the lists upon lists of chores you give him, is really a sign of a fear that you’re losing your husband emotionally. One has to feel very out of control to become controlling, you see. The source of your plea is understandable, it's your stern, firmness on getting him to do what you want him to do is misguided. So – for the convivence of Trouble here – let’s get straight to the point, this has nothing to do with the garbage, or the weeds, the laundry, the apples, the mail, the dishes, or even mowing the lawn. If we’re being blunt, you’re just sensing that your hubby over here seems to lack that trust and devotion you crave, so you resort in ordering him about like a mindless robot. That at least some kind of control is better than none. Yet, with this approach, you’ll never get a hold on what you’re really after – his emotions. Anyone would stop for their drive for power if they were reassured that they are loved back. The truth is, your behavior is a bid for affection that’s being delivered as a barking order.” Discord pulled on his sleeve to look at his sundial watch. “And what do you know? We got plenty of enough time to turn to the last one in the room to get a translation from. Well Trouble, looks like you’re in luck because it’s a doubleheader!” “Hurray for me,” Troubleshoes deadpanned. “Knowing from what I’ve gathered from you, especially very recently, you picked out the juiciest bit that managed to cause so much misunderstanding. But, before we can get into that, let’s take a look at something close to home.” Discord changed its channel again, this time the crystal ball showed Troubleshoes and Braeburn snapping at one another in an apple orchard. “What they hey is goin’ on?” Braeburn demanded, “Ya gone from bein’ lovely ta bein’ cold as an apple fritter ice cream. We don’t even talk no more.” Troubleshoes rolled his eyes, readying himself to buck one of the trees. “Oh buck off,” he told him with a swift kick, “Ah don’t wanna see you now!” Discord paused and reversed the moment. “Of course, it’s not that simple as it sounds. And Braeburn, you better hold onto something if I were you. ‘Cause this one’s a doozy.” He pressed a button to translate it and pressed play. “What they hey is goin’ on?” Braeburn demanded, “Ya gone from bein’ lovely ta bein’ cold as an apple fritter ice cream. We don’t even talk no more.” Troubleshoes rolled his eyes, readying himself to buck one of the trees. “Since you’ve been so heartless with your demands, I’m getting scared that you don’t want me anymore,” he told him with a swift kick, “So Ah’m gettin’ it in early with my revenge.” The others turned to Braeburn, who’s mouth had hang lose. He looked back at his husband. “So all that talk that you don’t think yer goin’ enough…” He began, the gears in his mind turning, “is that you’re afraid Ah might…” Troubleshoes, who feeling like he was caught sticking his hoof in a cookie jar, looked away. “Ah didn’t want ya ta worry. It’s just a small thing…” Braeburn hugged him, catching his husband off guard. “Shoes, Ah’m not gonna leave ya. Look, Ah’m sorry that Ah didn’t take inta account how all of this would affect ya. Ah’ve been so busy with doin’ a million things that Ah didn’t stop ta think…” Trouble hugged him back, “Ah’m not used ta doin’ this either. Ah didn’t know what was goin’ on, and was confused. And part of the time, Ah didn’t pick up on what yer tryin’ ta say.” “Oh! Speaking of which,” Discord pressed a button on the remote to fast-forward the images in the crystal ball, “There’s one more, very important thing that everyone in the world is guilty of. In fact, Troubleshoes, you’ve done this before you set hoof in this tent.” “Ah did?” “Take a look for yourself.” He pressed play. In the ball, it showed all of them just outside of the tent. “Discord did say that this was part of the lesson, right?” Sandbar asked. “He did,” Troubleshoes nodded. “Somethin’ about seein’ what yer spouse really is sayin’. Ah think.” He frowned, “Ah’m goin’ in.” “What?” Braeburn went in front of his husband, “What for? Ah thought we’d speak all the time.” “You do.” He said, walking around him. “What’s got inta you?” “Nothin’,” he replied before walking into the tent. Discord pressed pause and rewind it for a second. “You may not know this,” he pointed to Troubleshoes, “but I couldn’t help but noticed that for most of the time that I was talking, you were very silent for the most part. And I think I know why. You sir were undertaking the funniest and saddest thing in any relationship. I’m of course talking about – the sulk.” He pressed a button to translate before pressing play. “What’s got inta you?” Braeburn in the crystal ball asked. “Ah’m upset because you’ve hurt me. But Ah’m not gonna explain what’s wrong because by now ya should be able ta read my mind and jus’ know.” “Now that doesn’t make a lick of sense.” Troubleshoes pointed out, “Why would Ah think that? It sounds so…” “Illogical?” Twilight finished the sentence. “Well yeah!” “To an outsider, it really is.” Discord agreed. “And most sulks tend to start over a disappointment or frustration. Such as your love didn’t ask you how’s your day, or didn’t notice that you showered and got a new mane-cut, or simply not been paid enough attention. Yet what comes out of isn’t an argument – quite the opposite, really – it’s a silent siege. A domestic cold war being waged between partners where the one who asks: ‘What’s wrong with you?’ is met by a single, stubborn, wintery word: ‘Nothing.’ This is followed by locking yourself in a bathroom, refusing to let out what’s been upsetting you.” “Where do sulks come from?” Yona inquired. “Why not explain one hurt?” “It comes from two areas: foalhood, and the Romantics. When I say foalhood, I mean back in the days when you were an infant. Back then, we didn’t know how to talk and therefore, get what we want and need. But those giants that we called our parents seemed to magically knew somehow – just like that! That we feel we were hungry, or that our diaper needs changing, or to gain applause when we’ve taken our first steps. In the arms of our parents, they tried their best to guess what we wanted, to make sure we were comfy and happy. However, through no fault of the parents, they installed a deep impression in us that this is what love as an adult was going to be like. “Also, partly, the Romantics had a hoof in this too. They honestly believed that true love is wordless. That there was no need to examine or compare through words. They thought that if you had to explain yourself to your romantic interest – then that was a sign that love has failed. This is why during the early days of the relationship, there are pleasant moments where the pair of you didn’t have to say anything. That they knew and agreed with us automatically! But we tend to keep forgetting that the mind, especially your loved ones, is a complicated thing. Having them not explain themselves in how they tick, is like trying to learn calculus without open the textbook. So, for Troubleshoes sulking by not explaining what it’s all for isn’t a sign that he’s a demon, just that he’s a pony.” “So what should we do when we feel like sulking or encountering someone who is?” Ms. Harshwhinny asked. “Ideally, in a saner world, couples on their wedding days should exchange books called ‘My Insanities’ where it contains explanations and warnings whenever something comes up. Such as ‘When I get angry, I expect you to read my mind.’ Or ‘When I’m frustrated, I go cold.’ Such books would use lots of words that would give our lover a mental map of what they should expect from us. “In the meantime, perhaps before you go marching into a sieging sulk, try to do the partner the courtesy (as calmly as you can) to give them a small seminar. That you and your loved one should be able to learn and teach the other in a kind, patient way about who they are and why they act the way they do. But if you find that you’ve unleashed that silent war, realize that the one doing the sulking isn’t doing it to be mean, they’re just frightened deep down. “Take Troubleshoes here, sure he may be a huge adult that might be competent in many areas, but when he’s emotionally hurt, he can feel like a crying infant that’s in the hooves of someone that doesn’t know how to take care of him.” Troubleshoes rubbed the sides of his head. “All of this is really complicated stuff.” “You’re not alone, most tend to think that trying to interpret what your significant other is saying isn’t a skill to cultivate. But it really should be. I can predict that in a century or two, someone will invent a device you stick in your ear where it translates in real-time what your spouse wants to say – and ideally, their spouse would wear one too. Until then when that pony who invents it will be extremely wealthy, we’ll just have to make the effort in the skill of interpretation. “Oh, and Braeburn?” “Yeah?” Discord smirked, “That’ll be twenty bits, please.”