//------------------------------// // 1. Recovery and Acceptance // Story: Dysphoria, Arc 3: Canterlot // by thedarkprep //------------------------------// Dysphoria Story by: thedarkprep Arc 3: Canterlot 1. Recovery and Acceptance Celestia’s sun shone brightly as its warmth melted the few remaining slivers of ice and snow. Birds chirped from the trees, a harmonious chorus of various pitches and timbers as each bird family examined their new nests. They were joined in part by the less harmonious symphony of yawns chattering from the recently awakened animals as they adjusted to their surroundings, taking stock of the available food sources in preparations for next winter. The air smelt strongly of ginger, carnation, and lily (among other things) as the recently-planted flowers took in water from the melted snow and basked in the sunlight. Ponies gathered and cheered. Winter was over. The Winter Wrap-Up celebration was different than other Equestrian holidays in that it was more of a chore than an actual festivity, with each of the traditions being an instrumental part of maintaining Ponyville running for another year, including rituals that were necessary for the general infrastructure and environment with different groups assigned to various tasks. The first team of ponies undertook the task of waking up the local fauna, usually in hibernation, while a part of the weather team sought out the southern birds in order to guide them back to Ponyville. This two-step process alone allowed for the town’s wildlife to prosper, while also serving as the first step towards restoring the local ecosystem. As soon the first weather team was deployed, a different group of ponies was tasked with creating nests for the birds to inhabit when they return, allowing for the reintegration of birds to the environment. Once the hibernating fauna had been awakened and had cleared out of ditches and subterranean dwellings, the remaining weather pony forces (as well as a few drafted pegasi) undertook the challenge of clearing the sky, allowing the sun to melt the snow and ice in the lakes and fields, some of which would provide natural irrigation to the farms and local plant life. In conjunction with this, a separate group of ponies had to clear the fields of snow and till the fields in preparation for planting, after which they proceed to plant seeds as well as flowers and other such flora. The process was hard and arduous work, allowing no magic to be used during the event. However, every pony willingly contributed their all to help change the seasons. By the end of the day the fields were ready for agricultural production, ensuring that the food supply of the town (and therefore its main economic staple) would be able to begin growing, and the ecosystem was restored to normal conditions. Having met both these goals, the ponies of Ponyville celebrated in camaraderie, free to enjoy and relax in the temperate climate of spring: that is, unless they were a farmer. While the end of Winter Wrap Up was the end of work for a majority of ponies, it also signaled the beginning of the growing season. Seeds took a lot of work, and it was during this time that a lot of the more tedious and technical aspects of running a farm came into play. Having had planted seeds and spaced them out accordingly, it was then up to the farming families to ensure just the right amount of space, water, and nutrients was delivered to each future crop. A miscalculation at this point could mean a major loss during the harvest season, and as such, families like the Apples and the Carrots were hard at work in the fields long after everypony else had deemed it proper to go home. Applejack thought of this as she walked down the streets of Ponyville. Normally she would be out there with the rest of her family right now, and she felt rather guilty at the thought of Big Mac and Applebloom having to take over her portion of the work in her absence, but she had somewhere to be. She continued walking through the streets of the town, eventually crossing the market square and arriving at a small two-story house. She knocked. “Who is it?” a voice rang out from inside. This took Applejack by surprise. “Something wrong, sugarcube? You normally just open the door when someone knocks.” Evening Rose opened the door, checking to see if Applejack was alone before giving her a tired smile. “Sorry, I’ve been dealing with some things. Come on in.” Both mares stepped into the room, sitting on a couch in the middle of the living room. “The couch is new,” commented Applejack as she studied Rose. She seemed a lot better than the last time she had seen her, albeit a lot more tired. “You like it? Aside from my usual duties on the weather team, I get paid a commission on every monumental improvement I make to the procedures and the like,” Rose explained. “As you know, I can be very good at that, meaning I can afford to buy things now.” “I hope you’re saving up as opposed to just spending it on fancy furniture,” chided Applejack. “Of course I am! Right now I have some money saved up to cover a month’s worth of vacation time, I have an emergency fund, and I have enough money for me to not have to worry about rent or food for a while.” “What? Did you re-design the weather team completely or something?” “Nope,” said Rose with a smile. “I did, however, find a cost-effective way to justify having a pony scouting the Everfree at all hours by having them switch up the way they do rounds. We caught a rogue blizzard as it was starting that way, which paid for the month’s rent.” Applejack smiled. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing so well with your new job, Rose, even though we miss you hanging ‘round the farm.” Her tone was sweet at first, but got more tinted with concern as she progressed. “But are you sure you should be working as much as you are? Considering…” Rose turned to look at her. “Look, I’m fully recovered now. No stitches, no braces, no IV’s, and no more broken bones,” Rose commented.” I can fly, run, do sit ups, and eat ice cream as far as my doctor is concerned, so I’ll be fine. Besides, even when I was still injured I was working. It’s not like I’m out there bucking clouds like Rainbow and Airheart: I’m planning and helping organize weather patterns, which up to today consisted of planning on how to tackle the clouds for Winter Wrap Up in a way that made sense. I could’ve done this job from a wheelchair,” finished Rose, neglecting to mention that a week ago she did in fact do this job from a wheelchair. “If you’re so fine and dandy, then why weren’t you out there helping bring spring with the rest of us,” asked Applejack. “We were worried about you.” “Reasons,” said Rose while staring at Applejack. Applejack giggled. “Ok, so you’re learning not to lie to me and how to prove that you’re not lying,” she said, “But that’s still not an answer.” Rose stopped smiling and stared at the door, almost as if she could see through it. “I know I wasn’t outside,” she said. “But I could hear ponies well enough from in here. They were gossiping exactly the way I thought they would be, even after all this time.” Applejack gave her friend a worried glance. “You really care that much what they think?” “No,” said Rose, staring at the ceiling. Applejack smiled. “You did fine the first time but you still need work,” she said before giving Rose a hug. “It’ll be ok sugarcube, for what it’s worth; they’re all on your side.” Rose closed her eyes. “I know,” said Rose. “I know. And I’m eternally grateful. Still, it’s not what I wanted, you know?” “I know,” Applejack said sympathetically. “I know.” A weird silence developed over the household until Applejack spoke again. “I brought you something.” Rose opened her eyes and looked at her friend as Applejack removed a notebook from her saddlebag, placing the bag next to the couch before turning to face her. “I figured that since you’ve holed up in here so often recently,” said Applejack, “you were probably writing a lot and would run out of room soon, so I figured I’d go ahead and get you a traveling notebook for you to continue writing in.” Rose smiled brightly. This was the 8th new notebook she had received from a friend since she had woken up in the hospital, but that did not make it any less special. Besides, Applejack was right: she was about to run out of room in her latest one due to the number of poems she had recently taken to writing. Rose took the book from Applejack, placing it next to herself. “Thank you, Applejack, this really means a lot to me.” “No problem, Rose.” Applejack looked out a window before addressing Rose again. “Well, it’s getting late and I need to head back and help the rest of the family at the farm, so I guess I’ll be seeing you,” she said, heading to the door. “We need to hang out soon; make sure to stop by the farm, you hear? Applebloom won’t stop asking about you and I miss you ‘round there as well.” Rose gave the best smile she could offer, still looking far more tired than Applejack could comprehend. “I will. See you soon, Applejack.” “Um… Rose, are you sure ok?” “Yeah, why?” asked Rose. “You just look really tired; make sure to get some sleep, alright?” “Ok, I will,” responded Rose. “Best of luck on the farm.” “Who needs luck when we have your plans?” joked Applejack. “Now we find out if you were worth all the bits we paid you for.” “No refunds,” said Rose, before waving goodbye as her friend departed her home. Soon afterwards she was alone; she closed the door. Stepping inside, Rose immediately noticed Applejack had forgotten her saddlebag. Rose checked it, finding it to be empty. “Oh well, at least she didn’t forget something important in the bag,” thought Rose. “I’ll return it to her tomorrow.” If she was honest with herself, she could have done it today, but she had other things on her mind. Instead, she walked up to the mirror by the bottom of the stairs, staring at her reflection. Evening Rose was wearing a green hoodie with a flowy gray skirt. Her hair was in its signature curls and she showcased no signs of having been near death or hospitalized, despite both having happened twice. As she studied her reflection she could not help but notice that Applejack was right: she did look tired. There were a couple of reasons as to why Rose would look as worn and exhausted as she did. Healing, after all, was a very draining process in which she had been indulging much in the past few months. Also, due to having been unable to move for weeks on end, her muscles had suffered, making it a struggle to build them back up to where mundane chores were not akin to the Running of the Leaves for her. Many more examples jumped to her mind, but she realized that really, there were only two of note. The first reason why she felt she was as tired as she was was simply because she was not getting much sleep. She would often go to bed at night only to lie awake in bed for hours instead, her mind reeling with thoughts and concerns from her everyday life. Then, when she would find sleep, she would have to contend with nightmares which often awoke her in a state of panic and rendered the idea of going back to sleep laughable. Rose thought for a moment. “Not really nightmares,” she said to herself. “More like nightmare. Singular.” She was still having the one nightmare with which she had to contend. However, due to recent events, it had become more vivid and far more terrifying. Facing one’s own mortality does that occasionally. The second reason was that she was more emotionally exhausted and stressed out now than she had hoped to be, which was draining the vitality of her body one nervous breakdown at a time. “Oh come now Rose,” she told herself. “You’re being overdramatic; they’re not really breakdowns. They’re more like tantrums and bouts of helpless self-deprecation.” “Oh, and I’m talking to myself again,” she noted. “Perfect…” Rose turned to look out the window, noticing a few ponies enjoying the last hours of the Winter Wrap Up celebrations. Rose watched ruefully as they passed. Applejack was right to ask about why Rose had not attended. After all, she was of able body and had already gone back to work against the doctor’s recommendations. It was also part of her duty as a citizen of Ponyville to contribute in any way she could, even if she had been too hurt to work with the weather team. However, showing up would mean that she would have had to be around them, the citizens of Ponyville. Despite Celestia’s attempt to deal with Granite Boulder discretely, news of the event quickly spread through Ponyville in the form of gossip and questions from the ponies who had seen her be taken away to the hospital. The gossip then gathered steam after details of who she was and why she was attacked spread. After all, it was newsworthy in the small town for there to be a transpony in its citizenry, let alone having them almost be murdered for it. To their never-ending credit, the citizens of Ponyville were being very accepting and supportive of the whole situation. Rose had received countless letters, both at the hospital and at home, from ponies wishing her well and sending their condolences for the pain she suffered. Some welcomed her with open arms, and others said that they did not really understand the trans thing; all of them said, however, that nopony should be attacked for who they are, and that they stand behind her one hundred percent. Rose appreciated the thoughts and cherished the letters she received, but as happy as she was at the town’s support and acceptance, she could not get past one major detail. Rose thought back to the day she met Granite. The reason she had been out so late was because she found out everypony in the weather team knew she was trans, and that they had had ample opportunity to tell the rest of Ponyville without knowing it was supposed to be a secret. It had been anger and frustration that had driven her from her home that cold winter night. Now she faced a similar situation. There was no need to guess - it was a fact that everypony in town knew about the transpony living near the market square, and as supportive and accepting as they were, they would always see her as that, a transpony. By sending her to the hospital, Granite had taken away any chance she had of integrating into her society as a mare. He had failed to kill her, but the damage was no less substantial to her. And yet, instead of anger and frustration, all she felt was sadness and loss. Rose mourned the loss of her ability to pass as a mare in the eyes of strangers; such wishes were gone, and all that was left was the knowledge that she was now cemented in their minds as an “other”: an “other” that should be supported and cared for, yes, but an “other” nonetheless. It was a hefty loss for her, and although it was something she knew she needed to get past, she was not ready to deal with ponies approaching her and telling her how brave she was for being “out” when it was not her choice at all. There was a knock at the door, which pulled Rose from her thoughts. Her eyes went from the door to the empty saddlebag next to the couch, which she picked up as she made her way to the entrance to her home. She opened the door. “Hey, I figured you’d come back for…” she stopped as she realized who she was talking to. “Oh, hey Derpy! Sorry, I thought you were Applejack collecting her saddlebag.” “Oh, no problem Rose,” said the yellow-maned pegasus. “Are you doing better?” “Yeah,” responded Rose. “Slowly but surely. What’s up?” “Oh, nothing,” said Derpy. “Just delivering a letter. I figured I’d give it to you myself.” She gave Rose an envelope that said: For: Evening Rose Ponyville Market Square, House B12 Rose recognized the hoofwriting, but acted casually as she read it over. She then turned to Derpy. “Thank you, Derpy,” she said. “Oh no problem,” said Derpy. “I do have to get back to my route though, so I have to get going. Oh, and try to get some sleep, ok? You look really exhausted.” Derpy flew away, pulling a new letter from her bag. Rose made her way inside as she opened the letter, closing the door behind her. The message was small but that made it all the more terrifying. On my way to Ponyville. We need to talk. -Octavia Rose stared at the short letter in confusion, trying to rip a new piece of information from the three lines of text. This would prove impossible. “I guess I’m not sleeping tonight either,” she thought to herself. Octavia was aboard the train, watching the mountain landscape pass her by, catching an occasional glance at her reflection. Her face was filled with concern and uncertainty, her eyes with anger and fear. She tightened her hold of the newspaper article she had brought with her, making sure not to damage the front story.