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// Chapter 1 
// Story: The Science of Forgetting 
// by AnOddRadish 
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	Moving is a pain, regardless of where to or how many worldly possessions one has, moving is both a physical and mental strain. Not only are you getting used to new surroundings: new ponies, new shops, new streets; But one also must adjust to new living accommodations. Everything that was organized needs a new home, and everything that wasn’t organized gets one also. The stress of looking through every single cupboard to find cereal in the mornings was not something that anypony wants to deal with. 
Fortunately for Brominous Quicksilver, the bits he had spent hiring Cloudsdale Mail and Freight was looking to be bits well spent. The red unicorn stallion with moss green mane watched as a wall-eyed grey mare flew down the stairs, returning swiftly to the top floor with a box of clothes; most of the clothes were white coats, the occasional one stained with indicator solution. “Leave the ones with the red tape at the bottom of the stairs please,” shouted Brominuous “I’ll deal with them myself.” 
While Brominous fancied himself a patient pony, after having one box full of beakers and vials in need of magical repair due to the Pegasus’ klutziness, he didn’t think he could handle having to re-calibrate all of his scales to a greater degree than they would already have to be due to the move. 
After a few more trips up and down the steps, the mare gave a salute and recited what Brominous could only assume to be the oft-touted Cloudsdale Shipping Oath, “Through rain nor sleet nor snow nor hail, Cloudsdale Shipping will never fail!” Pulling her foreleg off of her forehead, the mare trotted down the steps, being sure to avoid the three boxes that continued to sit at the bottom. The red stallion smiled at the mare’s devotion to her line of work, knowing quite well how good it felt to be able to claim a job well done. 
As he descended the steps, he saw what must have been the pony he had been conversing with a few days ago regarding his housing at the townhouse. The townhouse had been erected fairly recently, and even though the main inn in Ponyville was large, it was not large enough to satisfy the sizable amount of traffic the town received. “A townhouse,” the Apple Family had reasoned, “Was just what the town needed. Somewhere more permanent than the inn in town had, but not quite as permanent as a house.”  The new establishment filled the dual purpose of sustaining the income of the family between cider, applebuck, and Zap-Apple seasons, and providing a semi-permanent place of housing for the occasional Canterlot University intern or Scientist seeking to study the Everfree forest. While Brominous Quicksilver was not exactly either of those, when he called the Mayor’s office in Ponyville requesting somewhere to stay that loud noises would be acceptable at any time of day, he was pointed to call Sweet Apple Acres. 
After discussing the various rates of the rooms, and learning that it would be extra if he needed to be able to cause loud noises due to his profession at any time, they had decided that Two Hundred bits a month seemed fair. Now that he actually saw the room he would be staying, he now saw that Two Hundred bits a month was more than fair, it was a bargain. Compared to the rates at Canterlot, he realized that he would be lucky to be able to stay in a room that was half as nice as the townhouse was for twice the price. Being able to perform the various deeds of his profession without having to run to the lab every time he wanted to test something that could be loud or potentially hazardous was just icing on the already moist and delicious cake.
Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, the Orange mare addressed him, “Mister Brawminus Quicksilv’r ah presume?” She said, tipping her hat and curtseying, “Ah just wanted tah stop bah and show ya a few of tha utilities.” “Indeed, I am Brominous,” He replied, hoping she would pick up on the subtle change in enunciation, “State employed chemist, at your service.” He returned her bow, albeit in a more dignified and masculine manner. “This place is very nice, I was just reflecting on the fact that I couldn’t rent a place half this nice for Four Hundred bits in Canterlot.”
“Well, that’s mighty kind of yah, but ah gotta warn yah, your room gets hotter than Celestia’s Sun during these summer months.” 
“Thank you for the warning, though I believe I may be able to remedy that situation. I recently managed to form a condition in which a gas will constantly evaporate and condense. This results in the nearby air being cooled down. The air can then be blown with a fan to wherever one wishes, though that isn’t really something that I have great control over yet.” 
“Yer telling me that yah can cool down the air? Ah didn’t understand that mumbo-jumbo about evaporwhatsin’ and all that, but it sounds neat.” She finished awkwardly. “Anyway, let me help you with these last few boxes and ah can be on mah way.” 
“It would be impertinent for me to permit a lady like yourself to carry such loads, I will take care of it.”
“Well shoot, ya’ll saying I can’t carry this stuff?” The mare replied, looking offended, “And wasn’t yah just letting Ditzy carry those other boxes?”
“That is her profession, and I have no right to tell a young mare where she can and cannot work, however it would be improper for a gentlestallion such as myself to have a kind mare like you carrying my baggage. It isn’t a question of whether you can, it is merely an attempt on my part to be-“ He stopped as the Orange mare rolled her eyes and lifted one of the boxes onto her back and began to trot up the steps. Momentarily stunned by his new landlady’s forwardness, Brominous gathered himself up and grasped the other two boxes within his magical reach, ensuring that the instruments inside stayed level as he began to ascend the staircase. Brominous' magic had never really been suited for carrying objects or moving matter around, as such it was hard for him to carry both boxes at once, while ensuring that they stayed level.
A few stairs from the top, Brominous heard a loud thud, followed by the tinkle of breaking glass and a loud shout of “Horseapples!” Assuming that the orange mare had dropped the box full of equipment onto the floor rather than gently setting them down as he had intended, the dull red unicorn sighed and finished his trek up the steps. After peering into the room, he saw that the mare in question had opened the box to assess the damage she had inflicted. Hearing two soft thumps as the other boxes set down next to her, the mare looked around and saw Brominous rolling his eyes, as if to say, “If you had let me carry them, we wouldn’t be in this situation…” 
“Miss… ahem,” the red pony coughed, realizing that he didn’t know the mares name, “I don’t believe you have introduced yourself yet, and after breaking my equipment seems a good a time as ever to have at it.” He quipped, showing much more sarcasm than anger.
“Mah names’s Applejack, and ahm real sorry ‘bout your lab stuff.” She said, looking guilty “I’ll just take the difference out of your rent and we’ll call it square, alright?” “There’s no need for that Miss Applejack, I’m not angry. It was mostly beakers and vials in there, and maybe an old, imprecise scale that I may have just thrown out anyway. I'm not angry, so long as you don’t go popping a pill to deal with the trauma of making a mistake.” Brominous quipped, referencing the habit that had become so popular in the last few years. 
With the advent of the “Memory Pills”, individuals could forget a specific memory of their choice, merely by swallowing the pill and concentrating on the memory they wanted removed. So many ponies seeking to uphold the mantra of Love and Tolerance took the pill to forget wrongs that were done to them, feeling that they could not forgive and move on while still being haunted by the memories of the sins that they felt were committed to them. Still more prevalent were those who took the pills to forget about mistakes that they had made after rectifying the situation with others, seeking to move on with life and keep their heads clear.
“Nah, ah wouldn’t dehgrade mahself to that.” Applejack responded, a spark in her eye, “It really boils mah blood to see ponies forgettin’ ‘bout their worst mistakes and not even bothering tah learn from them, what’s worse and all is that just as often the other pony takes a pill too, and the moron who screwed up in the first place don’t even suffer the consequences for his stupidity.”
“My thoughts exactly, though it surprises me to find a kindred spirit in my beliefs. I thought I was the only one with any sense of morality left.” The science pony responded.  “We all make mistakes, but dealing with the mental and physical repercussions of our actions should not be a choice left up to the offender.” Being a chemist himself, he understood the importance of progress in all aspects of life, but his personal convictions occasionally placed him at odds with his work. In the end, he found that compromising really isn’t the best option when it comes to morals, and that sticking by your beliefs, assuming that you know why you believe them, was the best option.
“That is actually the reason that I decided to take a break from working in Canterlot,” He mused aloud, “Too many ponies abusing the benefits of science and magic. I decided to pursue my own agenda somewhere quieter, where the ponies nearby have a greater semblance of morality. While I cannot claim to have a squeaky-clean record when it comes to use, having used it once myself, I understand via a note written to myself that there was a good reason for taking the pill before I moved, and that I had neither harmed nor been harmed by anypony. I don’t believe myself though, and it really evaporates my Mercury knowing that I caved in and chose to throw my morals by the wayside.” As he finished speaking, he noticed a look of concern creeping across Applejack’s face. “Is there something bothering you?” 
“Nah, ah was jus’ thinking ‘bout your statement ‘bout morals in this town. If yah had asked me ‘bout it a month ago, ah woulda agreed with yah, but recently folks have been abusing them monstrosities more and more.” She finished slowly, looking morose and downtrodden. “And don’t beat yerself up ‘bout the pills too much, we all make mistakes.” This statement illustrated her point perfectly, for she saw a spark of anger in his eyes as she finished talking. “I know that all ponies make mistakes, that isn’t the issue. The issue is dealing with the mistakes we make. Everyone should have to suffer the consequences of his actions. I really wanted to be a prosecuting attorney at that point, but chemistry and analytical magic was my stronger point. When I was entering college, it was really hard for me to choose between studying law to become a prosecuting attorney or to study chemistry. I chose chemistry because I figured that I would be able to help more people at once developing different drugs and by generally improving society. Making these air-coolers has been my biggest achievement to date. Moving to conversation a higher energy orbital, I’ve realized that hanging around those who abused the pills was beginning to have a negative impact on my psyche, I decided to move and pursue my academic interests elsewhere. Sorry for boring you with my story, but that’s something I’ve needed to get off my chest for a while, and someone who shares my opinions on the matter seemed to be a good target. I apologize for my insensitivity, and crave your pardon for boring you.”  Applejack just stared at the stallion standing in front of her, mouth hanging open. The only pony she had ever heard talk for that long was pinkie pie, but this one had just related a long story explaining his feelings on a matter, his choice of subject in college, and his reasons for moving to Ponyville all at once, and made perfect sense doing it. Visibly recovering herself, the orange farm-mare responded “Nah sugarcube, that wasn’t boring, and ah like to make a habit of gettin’ to know the ponies that stay here better than the inn in town does. I’ll get out of yer hair now so yah can finish unpackin’, and ah can get mah work round the farm done. Talk tah yeh later Brawminus.” She said, turning to leave the room. 
“Good day, Miss Applejack, I wish you well doing your work. Before you leave, could you inform me on this map where I could go to eat?” He inquired, “I brought ingredients to make food, but the perishables didn’t seem to survive the journey over.” “Right here, sugarcube corner has the best baked goods in town. The restaurant here serves up some good grub too. But ah always tell our residents here they can eat with us whenever they please, we always got extra. So why not come down tam the house ‘round six o’clock tonight, and yah can meet the rest of the family that helps take care of the townhouse too.” “That would be most appreciated. I will see you then, Miss.”
As she left the room, the auburn unicorn began to unpack, wondering what her family must be like. She seemed to be nice enough, albeit a little rough around the edges, particularly in her speech patterns and enunciation, but that didn’t change the fact that she was obviously a very analytical pony like himself. “She may no be they type to always ask why,” He though for a moment, comparing her to himself “but she at least knows why she believes in her convictions.” While he had hoped to get as much work done that evening as possible, the thought of a good home cooked meal, something he hadn’t had in years, caused him to reconsider his decision. “Perhaps this trip won’t end up being as uneventful as I had anticipated.” With that thought in mind, he began to repair the beakers and vials that the only two ponies he had interacted with since his arrival had both managed to break.