//------------------------------// // End of Session 1 (Midnight Sparkle) // Story: Mind over Midnight // by Moproblems Moharmoney //------------------------------// I like the rain. Not in a fun 'listen to it drum on your windows' kind of way. No, I like walking in it. There's a kind of...cleansing feeling to the experience. Millions of droplets freeing me briefly from life's entanglements, the stress, the worry, all of it. It was almost like purification. A sullen, angry man had entered. Out left a calm, clear-headed one. Fortune must have favoured me, after a day like today I'd never been so thankful for a heavy downpour. The wind whips around my jacket as I briefly glance at the watch adorning my wrist, its digital clock-face telling me seven pm in blinking lights, one hour after closing and two hours since my last session had finished. We'd run over time significantly, but there had been quite a lot to unpack with little room for the more mundane things in life, like time boundaries or non-threatening behaviour. My heart jolted briefly as a bus backfired, the vehicle zipping down the Canterlot streets with drenched occupants sitting miserably inside. Another reason for my impromptu shower was this evening's destination. For reasons beyond my understanding all transport links had snubbed it, no bus, no train, even the private taxi companies treated it as off-limits. I had theories of course, but they were just that, theories. As the paving slabs of Hasufel street fall behind me I become increasingly aware of Canterlots inhabitants, the poor souls desperately trying to run from a little water. No one likes to be cold, but sometimes I question whether we overreact. 00000 “Are you sure this isn't poisoned?” the thing-called-Midnight-wearing-Twilights-skin said, eyeing the jug of unfiltered tap water with a wariness I'd only seen in combat veterans. “Why would it be?” I shrugged, feeling significantly calmer since the girl had begun to unwind. She'd already revealed she wasn't a demon, ghost, or any other 'spooky' creature (her words not mine) while promising to try and keep a lid on that temper of hers. After that previous display, I expressed firmly how violent telekinetic outbursts were off the table if she wanted my help. Whilst I had no reason to believe Midnight, she also had no real need to lie or even tell me anything frankly. Yes, the girl may have lacked Twilights politeness, but she made up for it in robust openness and honesty, so far never needing cajoling or prompting. “Well, if those weak runes of yours were accurate, you attempted to isolate and paralyse me. Can't blame a girl for being paranoid,” an awkward pause filled the air before (taking my ongoing silence as an affirmation) Midnight snatched the jug, greedily gulping the contents in a single draught. “Oh god, you cannot believe how good that was!” she crowed, slamming the jug on the table, unparalleled delight on her face from the now tepid water. “Erm-” “I'm stuck here with this nebbish wreck of a core who thinks tea and energy drinks are the only viable hydration out there. Do you know when she sleeps? Never! That's when. I've probably got the start of a heart condition thanks to her.” “Well-” I began, before something she said hit me. “Wait, did you say 'core'?” She smiled that unsettling grin again, placing the now blood-smeared jug back on the table. Glass was thankfully easy to clean, her hand not so much if she continued to push the shards of Twilight's spectacles in deeper. I'd need to do something about that. “Come on Calmy, can I call you Calmy? Anyway, think a bit Calmy. You're the seasoned professional. Twilight's idiot parents weren't exactly subtle around her, even that jock of a brother had to get his little girlfriend involved.” A striped carnation levitated from the table, hovering in front of an exuberant Midnight, petals slowly being plucked one by one. “Poor old Twily, she never realised time passed when I switched in 'till they noticed. I suppose that's what I get for being greedy, but we'd never really experienced what being drunk was like and she'd pissed me off that day. Telling Shimmer all about our science project like that, who the hell does that demon think she is? Our friend? Hah.” I was struggling to take the rant in, but the last part certainly matched. All the documents said Midnight's first manifestation was Velvet Sparkle finding her daughter slumped over the dinner table at three in the morning, four bottles deep in the family's wine collection. Both of us wrote it off as teenage high jinks, but it did seem odd for a girl noted to have trouble with root beer moving on to heavy drinking so quickly. 00000 It's reaching seven thirty pm now, the rain has slackened and the city's shadows have both literally and metaphorically lengthened. What little glare the street lamps give off merely illuminate the monsters now, my footsteps speeding up as I pass through Diomedes street. Now, Canterlot is not exactly a hellhole, crime rates are reasonably low for an American city, with fraud and violent crime at an all-time low. Having said that, like every city there are places and people you don't want to know. Unfortunately, they're indelibly scarred into my memory. On my way into the heart of the city, I've passed eight bars, five off licensees and the homes of twenty different drug dealers, with their respective wares ranging from laughable to levels where people die from dropping a decimal point. It's why I prefer the bus. You avoid the areas, avoid the neon signs in your brain and most definitely avoid the serpent whispering in your ear. This journey though, well, there's a term for it. It's a bit pretentious, but it fits so well I can't help it. It's my own personal katabasis. 00000 “So,” Midnight continued, the balding flower being tossed for another, “despite our differences, Twiggles and I share a deep respect for knowledge, failure to plan is planning for failure as the saying goes. We both took turns researching 'the problem'. In her case out of fear, me...well curiosity is an answer I suppose? As per usual, however, I was the more tenacious one. She only searched what fit her narrow definitions, I on the other hand spread a wider net, even if it felt ridiculous taking those flesh sacks she calls parents' ideas into account.” There was a growing pit in my stomach as suspicions began to coalesce. Midnight obviously loved the sound of her own voice and was dragging this out much longer than necessary, but if it ingratiated her to me then it was imperative. Despite the girl's promise against any violent action, if I was correct I'd need all the help I could get to keep things from spiralling out of control, especially taking the telekinesis into account. “My results were most...enlightening. They certainly bore more fruit than the dweebs I can tell you that much.” She leant forward, a sombre look etched on a face far too young to look so serious. “It's such a chore sitting in her skull Calmy, she's so pathetic and sad. Like a puppy intent on chasing its tail in a minefield. 'Am I too fat?', 'Am I too thin?', 'Am I gay?', 'Are the boys looking at me?' 'Do my friends actually like me?'. As if any of that really matters in the grand scheme of things, wouldn't you agree Calmy?” A lie would be easy, make the upcoming transitions easier. That's not how this works though. With a heavy heart and my calmest tone ready, I sigh. “I think Twilight's feelings are valid Midnight, she's a young woman with a keen intellect but a lot of baggage. You're smart enough to understand she's very much reacting to her environment, and from what I know it was a rather harsh one to begin with. She has trust issues, issues with her body image and a hundred and one other problems, both mundane and more, well, let's just say 'esoteric' and leave it at that eh?” “Perhaps.” she replied begrudgingly, teeth gritted. “Secondly Midnight,” I gesture to the girl with my pen “Whilst I respect your need for individuality and your frustrations with Twilight, I think we can both agree, leaving that wound on your palm open is a bad idea. Even if you feel justified, by harming Twilight you're still harming yourself in the long run, right?” “But-” the girl growled, an emerging snarl evaporating as she stared at the mess of her hand. A few experimental flexes (and pain-induced winces) later and the room's tissue supply was put to good use. Despite her earlier joy in the damage she'd caused, several makeshift bandages were hastily applied moments after telekinetically removed glass shards flew into the soon-to-be-bleached water jug. “So, you said your results were enlightening?” 00000 Katabasis, it's a fun word. In essence, it's part of the broader 'mytheme', every myth is a story, right? Well, all those stories start somewhere. The Power Ponies and the PCU didn't just come from nowhere after all. They were based on stories and stories have power. Katabasis seems fairly simple, it's about the hero delving into the underworld. Oh, it can be for anything, gold, love, power. There's always a reason, but it's the act of stepping into the unknown for something greater and returning that really gives it strength. The funny thing is it's true. Al'amr – altalab recorded that the start of mankind's supernatural knowledge began with ancient sorcerer kings descending into the depths of the earth. These men communed with something beyond our understanding and returned, gorged with power and wisdom. Debate raged to this day as to what the 'thing' they spoke to was. Of course, not everyone thought it was prudent to know. Amira spat on the scholars, they were 'scribblers arguing over the unknowable, too cowardly to check and too weak to try' in her eyes. She wasn't wrong. Seven thousand years and we'd been reduced to scraps. Gone were the days of Atlantis and Mu, replaced with ruins and sea slime. Considering the nature of Al'amr – altalab though that was probably for the best. As was my departure, magic...it couldn't solve our problems. Not all of them. 00000 The girl clapped her hands eagerly, a twitch of pain slowing the action to a halt. She was on her third flower now, a flurry of petals already surrounding her. “Yes, well, the princess of the pop quiz focused only on magic. She was oh-so-sure it was a curse or some other horse-related ridiculousness-” Ok, that stood out. “'Horse-related ridiculousness'?” “Oh, she didn't tell you?” A light blossomed in her eyes at my confused expression .“How rich! Let us put a pin in that for now Calmy, spoilers etcetera. As I was saying, she focused on magic. I took medical. It didn't take long to figure it out. I mean, I'm not a professional, but we are geniuses, technically speaking. So I was fairly confident in my diagnosis, so much, in fact, I wrote my core a nice little note for the first time ever. Hell, I even left the webpages open and everything.” With my heart hammering and a mouth dryer than an ashtray, I pressed forwards. The coin was in the air. From the girl's manic expression, I felt I knew the answer, but held hope that my guess was in error. “Your diagnosis Midnight?” She sat ramrod straight, mock adjusting the aquamarine witch-fire glasses in the very picture of a 'professional', even as her once steady tone became a spiteful parody of the girl who had walked in here. “Taking into consideration the patients history, memory loss, emotional outbursts, mental instability, associated conditions and distinctive manifestations of unique personalities, the patient can reliably be diagnosed as suffering from D.i.D or Dissociative identity disorder.” she paused momentarily, her starchy exterior cracking as she broke into hysterical laughter “We're bug-fucking nuts doc!” Letting her laugh seemed the most logical step. I'd gotten heads, but there was no real winner here. Whatever joy that she could ring out of this I wouldn't take from her, even if it wasn't the healthiest reaction. Not ignoring whatever magic weirdness she'd become embroiled in, this was life-changing in a way many couldn't begin to fathom. “D-d-d-do you, haha, do you think her parents will disown her Calmy?” She was slapping the coffee table now, wheezing desperately to keep what little oxygen she had from this manic turn, tears of laughter running down her face. “Throw the craz-NO NO NO NO NO NO!” The change was lightning quick. Fists slammed into wood, futile rage being vented the best way available. A voice more used to teasing and sneering lost its edge, tears of joy rapidly transmuted into rivers of anguish. I'd seen this kind of thing a few times, but it was still unnerving. With Midnight gone, Twilight looked out, the death of her future broadcast for all to see. “I. AM. NOT. CRAZY.” each word punctuated by another table strike. I could see the impromptu bandages beginning to stain with fresh blood. A thin voice escapes the choking mess of coughs and tears though, ”She's...she's lying Mister Storm, I know she is!” You'd have to be made of stone to not feel anything, but I do my best to keep a neutral tone, even if every part of me is screaming to console this girl. This whole thing will definitely stretch the boundaries of my professionalism, but I'm her only option. “I'm-I'm sorry Twilight, but I think Midnight may be right, consid-” “NO!” she screams once more, a finger now pointed in accusation, “Your wrong! You don't know her, you...you don't know me! She's not real, she's some kind of magic parasite or curse or something, she's not real!” The same grip from earlier surrounds me, it's much lighter though, the difference between a clamp and a clothes peg. Twilight probably doesn't even realise she's doing it. As the girl begins to edge her way to the door (staring at me like the kind of dog you know won't bite if you just watch him) my eye jumps to the pendant, now a clear purple, the frost having dissipated. Some kind of focusing tool maybe? Keeping my mind on the present (and with some difficulty) I raise my hands in surrender. Sometimes you've got to lose to win. “Please, please stop.” I can hear it in my voice, but there's no way to hold back my frantic tone now. “I know you don't believe any of this. I understand that, I really do. But no matter what you believe, I will help you. If you want it that is.” The girl reaches behind her, one hand flailing for a door handle while the other remains poised. I feel the projected force tighten briefly, not enough to hurt or even move me, but enough to send a warning. “Why, because of my parents' money!?” “No Twilight”, I breathe deeply, flashes of memories in my mind's eye “because as hard as it is to believe, I was in your position once. Young, alone, confused. This whole thing is hard, the first step is always the worst, but it gets easier. You can trust me on that.” That was it. That was all I had. She'd either leave, never to return. Or I'd have a magically charged client with two personalities that hate each other, more secrets than a small nation, a ton of pre-existing issues and the unenviable task of getting some harmony going between them. Amira did say I was an idiot. Twilight slowly lowered her finger, the pressure easing from me like a dial being notched down. With a quiet breath escaping the teen, she contemplated the floor for a few seconds, weighing her options before a mumble rang through the silent room. “I'll... I'll think about it.” Smiles were a rarity at the end of a first session. Today felt like I'd earnt one. “That's all I ask Twilight, thank you.” 00000 I was here. Like David I stare at my Golaith, with fear in my heart and sling in hand. The building had always loomed, pictures suggested this began from the day it had been built and inevitably it would continue its reign of intimidation as its last bricks were shattered into so much powder. At least that was if my guess was correct. Clearly, it wasn't the best choice for its intended purpose, but beggars couldn't be choosers and we were certainly beggars. I joined my fellow wretches inside, our committee behind closed doors and with various shapes and sizes in attendance. Some faces I recognised, others were new. The familiar look haunted the newest and I felt for them, this would be hard no doubt. The first time always was. The hardest some said. Nervous small talk is frittered away, recycled lines heard week in and week out, some kind of solace, some grip on normality being important. A clock chimes and in walks Serenity Prim, she's short and dumpy, with a no-nonsense bun that clashes against the soft smile and even softer eyes. The ball is mine first. It's certainly better than the stick, feels less silly holding it too. My twelve seated compatriots are staring intently at me, years ago I'd have surely vomited from the attention. Now it just feels numb, which is crazy really. This a place of healing, I'm a healer, this should..should mean nothing to me right? With a deep breath, I say the magic words and begin. “My name is Calmy Storm, and I'm an addict.”