Mind and Matter

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Mind Your Manners

“So that’s why you should never hire a dolphin as a foalsitter,” Mentiad concluded. “I never trusted them, anyway. They smile all the time.”

“So!” Twilight interjected brightly, managing to cover her internal screaming quite well. “Mentiad, would you mind telling us a little more about, well, you?”

“Oh.” He thought about that. “Er, well, I’m the alicorn prince of math, logic, information, and so forth. I like books. And science. And history.” He considered. “Also puzzles.”

Twilight nodded encouragingly. Mentiad bit his lip and stared at the ceiling. “Um, I have a cat. I left this plane of reality about twelve hundred years ago to go and study everything that was ever written. I like to cook… that’s about all I got, sorry.”

“Ah have a question," said Applejack. "Ya said y’all lived in an ivory tower?”

“Oh, yes," Mentiad replied. "It’s in the Realm of Forms.”

There was a pause. “Th’ what now?” Applejack asked.

“Oh." Mentiad scratched his chin. "Yeah, I guess not everypony’s heard of it. See, I usually spend all my time in my own little world — not unlike a lot of academics, really.” He chuckled. “I inhabit this sort of… exterior reality, linked to this one. I like to call it the Realm of Forms. This one minotaur philosopher, Plate Shoulders, originally had this idea that there exists, somewhere in the infinite universe, a perfect slice of cheesecake.”

Twilight frowned. “That’s not quite —”

Applejack furrowed her brow. “You live in a world of cheesecake?”

“That would be lovely,” the alicorn admitted, “but no. See, the thing about philosophers is that they argue about everything. And the thing about the minotaurs is that their culture is strongly based on physical dominance. So when word got out about Plate Shoulders’ idea, it wasn’t very long before he was challenged to defend his beliefs — in hoof-to-hoof combat.”

Applejack blinked. “What?”

Mentiad waved a hoof idly. “Look, this all happened a very long time ago, back before the unification of the tribes by about five or six centuries. Back then, fighting philosophers weren’t even worth commenting on, that’s how common they were. Study philosophy, you get some great stuff. The grudge match between Young and Fraud? Epic. Can't say I was wildly supportive of either of them, but I'm always there for beating up Fraud. But I digress. See, Plate Shoulders was also a pro wrestler, so that’s the fight he chose. So, it’s the day of the debate. He’s going up against one of the big guys — Derisive Sneer, ‘the Deconstructor’. That bull pinned some of the biggest thinkers of the age, exposing their paradoxes and fallacies as he threw them to the mat. Of course, he had more than few fallacies himself, but let’s not get into postmodernism right this very minute, because I have opinions.”

“And?” Applejack asked, interested despite herself.

“Sneer did his best, but he was too cocky, too sure. He didn’t even familiarize himself with his opponent’s argument. He got in some good moves, but Plate Shoulders… well, his shoulders, as his name implies, were massive and flat. Every time Sneer got him in a headlock, Plate shrugged him off. And he made his argument something like this — when you see a cheesecake, you think ‘oh, that’s a cheesecake’, as opposed to ‘what a lovely chair’ or ‘yikes! A hungry timberwolf!”. And you do that no matter if it’s a normal cheesecake, or one with chocolate sauce drizzled on, or one that a timberwolf is sitting on. So the question is, how do we know? What makes it a cheesecake?”

Applejack frowned and considered this question. “‘Cause… it looks like a cheesecake?”

"Ah," said Mentiad, grinning broadly. “But how do you know what a cheesecake looks like?”

Applejack hesitated. “Because... Ah’ve seen cheesecake before?”

“Well, how do you know they were cheesecakes?”

Applejack sighed. “Look, sugarcube, why don’tcha just tell me? Cheesecake jes’ stopped soundin’ like a real word.”

Mentiad nodded enthusiastically. “Basically, he said that there must be some sort of ideal cheesecake out in the multiverse, existing outside space and time— he called it a Form. Every other cheesecake is just a shadow of that one perfect cheesecake, just as every bowl is a copy of the one perfect bowl, and every hat is a copy of the one perfect hat. That’s about as far as he got before Sneer got back up again and flipped his argument on its back — also flipping Plate onto his back, incidentally — but it was enough to get people thinking.”

“Wow. So, who won?”

“Oh, Sneer did, eventually. But it was enough to introduce the world to a new pattern of thought, and get me a new house.”

“A new... house?” Twilight interjected. “I don’t see the connection.”

Mentiad turned to face her, flipping his mane over his shoulder in the process. “Basically, thanks to that argument, Plate’s argument became widely recognized and is one of the major bases of Western, and by extension Equestrian thought. Since I’m more or less the one who runs thought, I now live in the realm of Forms. It’s a nice sort of place, once you get used to it. Everything moves and acts with mathematical perfection, and everything is ideal. Good place to do physics experiments.”

Applejack blinked. “So… what does that even look like?”

“Imagine if you were inside a book of technical drawings, and that’s about right.”

She screwed up her face. “Yech.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad," Mentiad said reflectively, leaning back in his chair. "Lots of life’s little annoyances just... aren’t there. Like pollen allergies, or splinters. I like to come out here sometimes though, just for the colors. And the company.”

“And what happened to Plate?” Applejack asked.

Mentiad considered this gravely. “I think he eventually went into show biz — something about shadow puppets?”

Applejack sat back. “Wow. Weird story.”

The alicorn shrugged. “Well, I might not remember it perfectly, but that’s basically how it was.”

“I’m really pretty sure it’s not,” Twilight said, frowning.

“That may be,” Mentiad allowed. “It’s been awhile since I read about it. Longer since I saw it.”

“Why do you get your own world, though?” Applejack asked.

“Oh, all the alicorns and draconnocci have one," Mentiad replied. "Some don’t use them very often, of course, but they’re there. Luna’s got the Realm of Dreams, Screwball over there has the Land of Creativity, and so forth. Both border on my world, for given values of ‘border’, but I don’t know about any others.” He looked at Twilight, intrigued. “What about you? What’s your realm like?”

“I-- Celestia never told me anything about having my own dimension,” Twilight said, rather indignant. “Let alone traveling there.”

“Oh, shame. I’d ask her about it if I were you.” He turned to Applejack. “What about you? What sort of house have you got?”

“Me? Well, Ah live out on Sweet Apple Acres, with two siblings an’ Granny Smith. It’s a nice house, in mah opinion. No ivory tower, mind, but it's just right for us.”

“Apples?” Mentiad asked, tilting his head.

“Yep! Sweet Apple Acres, some of the finest fruit you’ll ever sink yer teeth inter!”

Mentiad's green eyes glimmered. “I’d quite like to investigate that claim.”

Applejack grinned. “Sure thing, sugarcube. Ah’ll give y’all th’ grand tour after--”

Mentiad was already making for the door. “Hey, hold up there, pardner!” Applejack pushed back her chair and raced after him.

Twilight considered going after them, but decided against it. She elbowed Trixie in the side. “Get Sunset. We’re going back to the castle.”

“Not now,” Trixie hissed.

“What do you--” Twilight glanced over to Screwball, who was describing an Antarctic trip she had taken to an increasingly distressed Rarity. “Oh.”

---

Rarity continued to listen in horrified fascination to Screwball’s story of her expedition climbing the Mountains of Madness in the Antarctic. “So… what happened after your sled dogs were, um, mutilated?”

“I went to go research the giant penguins,” Screwball replied casually. “Wrote a whole monograph on ‘em. Turns out, instead of feeding off of the thoughts and dreams of innocent explorers, as previously assumed, they primarily eat iceworms. Major discovery there.”

“Uh-huh,” Rarity replied, repressing a shudder. “Most intriguing, darling, but why don’t you tell me about yourself for a while? You’ve told me a lot about what you’ve done, but not a lot of personal stuff. I’ll be honest, you don’t really take after your, uh, parent.”

“Mm,” Screwball replied, pursing her lips. “Well, ponies change. I used to be more into chaos. For a long time, I was the avatar of insanity, goddess of creativity and spirit of the arts. I suppose I still am, at least in name. I was par’s right-hand mare, helping them spread chaos across the world. It was fun, I guess. But eventually… I dunno. I got bored. Par got turned to stone. I decided maybe there were better things in life than just causing chaos for the heck of it. So, I went to college. I chose Misk U. mostly because of the scholarships.”

“Scholarships?” Rarity prompted. "Plural? Impressive."

“Yeah. The whole ‘tomes of eldritch lore’ thing, plus one for promising not to drive the whole town into insanity.”

“So… don’t you do chaos anymore, then?” Rarity asked slowly.

“Well,” Screwball began, but she found a large yellow paw suddenly covering her mouth.

“Of course she does chaos,” Discord scoffed. “She’s a draconequus. We’re the very embodiments of chaos! It’s what we do, isn’t that right, Screwy?”

The pink mare looked at her progenitor flatly. They quickly removed their paw from her mouth. She rose from her chair. “So,” she said brightly, as though nothing at all had happened. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Lu— Oh, of course, Lucy,” Discord said, smacking their forehead. “How could I have been so forgetful? We’ll go and pick her up right away.” They turned to the assembled ponies. “Thank you all so very much for coming, we’ve had a wonderful time, good-bye, safe travels, don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” they said, shooing them from the room.

“Discord,” Fluttershy said sharply. “What are you doing?”

The draconequus paused. “Oh yes, this is your house, isn’t it? Well, you can stay, of course.” They then proceeded to continue shoving the other guests out the door.

“Discord,” Fluttershy repeated, her tone taking on a shade more menace.

Screwball trotted over to her. “This is your house?” she asked.

“Oh, um, yes,” Fluttershy said. With her attention diverted, Discord took the opportunity to shove everypony else out of the house.

The pink pony raised an eyebrow. “So why is par holding my party here?”

Fluttershy flushed. “Er, well, they sort of… live here, too. Sometimes.”

Screwball’s eyebrows rose. “Ah. So somepony’s finally caught their eye. Well, as far as potential mothers go, I suppose you seem alright.”

Fluttershy squeaked. “Oh, no! It’s not like that at all!”

Screwball stared at the pegasus for a long moment. “Huh. You actually believe that,” she said. She rested a hoof on Fluttershy's withers and looked into her eyes. “Listen. Last time parent moved in somewhere, it was when they were trying to get with Celestia. Time before that, they had gone gaga for some cat goddess. They don’t pin themself down for nothing, you know.”

Fluttershy blushed as pink as her mane. “Oh… well… um…”

Screwball shrugged. “Well, whatever. You mind if I crash here for a few days? Just until I find a place?”

“Of course,” said Fluttershy with a sigh of relief. “There’s a fold-out bed in the couch.”

“Great. Now I just have to go and get Lucy.”

Fluttershy’s brow furrowed. “Lucy? Lucy who?”

Screwball’s jaw went slack. “Parent! You haven’t even told your marefriend about Lucy?”

“Marefriend?” Discord asked, pausing in surprise. “I don’t have a — Fluttershy, did I get a marefriend? I can't have a marefriend, I wouldn't know how to take care of one. What kind of environmental stimulation do they need?”

“Oh my actual Nyarlathotep." Screwball massaged her temples. "Y’know what? Just forget it. Let’s get me back my best friend.”

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

More people need to make use of Plato being a wrestler. Especially since "Plato" is actually his wrestling nickname. Lovely stuff.

and every hat is a copy of the one perfect hat.

Oh, don't let Rarity hear about that. Either she'll go into a fit dismantling that proposition or devote years to actually making the perfect hat. And she will, too.

Lots of life’s little annoyances just... aren’t there. Like pollen allergies, or splinters.

Ah, but what about the perfect Allergy, or the perfect Splinter? Just because ponies don't like them doesn't mean they don't have Forms. Of course, this invites questions about the perfect Flaw, and I don't want to evict Mentiad by accidentally disproving his home. Or by any other method, for that matter.

Mentiad considered this gravely. “I think he eventually went into show biz — something about shadow puppets?”

I do wonder about Twilight's personal demiplane. And Sunset's for that matter. Heck, even Celestia invites intriguing questions there, though I imagine hers would need SPF Yes to visit safely.

Looking forward to meeting Lucy, whoever she may be. I suspect this may involve a sky with diamonds. And uncomfortable parent-child discussions. I don't envy any plasticine porters in earshot...

[Sixes_And_Sevens]

10633420

Ah, but what about the perfect Allergy, or the perfect Splinter? Just because ponies don't like them doesn't mean they don't have Forms.

They do, but if my completely amateur understanding of Plato is anywhere close to the truth, there's just one of each of them and they can be safely stored away in a back closet and forgotten about.

I do wonder about Twilight's personal demiplane. And Sunset's for that matter. Heck, even Celestia invites intriguing questions there, though I imagine hers would need SPF Yes to visit safely.

We'll be visiting Twilight's and Sunset's later on, but Celestia's domain is worthy of some note. I see it as a very bright and vibrant jungle, overflowing with alien plants and creatures and still stranger forms of life, all of it as neat and orderly as a prize garden. The whole place is run across with crystalline spires that refract the light into prismatic and dazzling displays. And, as you say, you're going to want to apply some very strong sunscreen before paying it a visit.

[Shilic]

Oh man, I seemed to miss this updating. Shame on me.

Interesting take on Screwball here. I guess after you spend enough time around Discord, the absurd starts to become mundane. Not sure I'd choose to go to college anywhere near the Great Old Ones, though. But to each their own, I suppose.