What Princesses Need
Intermission: Deep Psyche Origins
A caramel furred stallion with a brown mane flung himself onto his bed, sighing in an achy way. He hadn’t slept in far too long, and was eager to rest himself. Moaning and feeling a familiar ache in his knees and haunches, he wuzzled into the pillow like it was his lover. Murring softly, he heaved a great and restful breath.
The poor doctor’s mind was full of all things surrounding Luna. He’d just taken a needle to the proverbial boil of the situation in and around the palace—but it hadn’t been easy. All of that mess with Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, Shining Armor, and especially the Lunar stallions… it was just… just a mess. Being a young doctor who was fresh from the academy it was his job to maintain a demeanor of control and pleasantness at all times, but it was exhausting. It did not elude him that if he helped heal Princess Luna he would be set for life as a therapist, selfish though it sounded. There was not a pony alive that could write on their resume ‘helped a princess with psychological issues and succeeded.’ He knew he could not fail his Princess.
Deep Psyche turned over, staring at the wall. He’d been given a lovely little apartment in the palace. Just a simple thing with a bedroom, drawers, writing desk and bathroom attached. But, as a psychologist, a blank wall had special meaning to him. Blank, listless, and blessedly uncomplicated. He stared at it, his eyes slowly growing heavy.
Luna was making such good progress. After the group therapy session, he’d since had a follow-up interview with the dark alicorn. She seemed in much better spirits. But the doctor knew it wasn’t to last long. He had one more needle to thrust into Luna’s infections, to drain out the nastiness within. He’d mentioned it in her therapy, but the Princess didn’t seem to realize what he’d been implying. He hid his face under a hoof to blot out even the starlight coming in through his little window. “Lunar Stallions…” he moaned softly, as though it were a swear word. He had a scenario in mind, but Luna would NOT be happy. Unfortunately for him, though, he was not there to be Luna’s close friend. He was her therapist, and it was his job to make her well again, even if it meant her hating him when it was all over. Yes. Yes he would have to do it, and soon.
The stallion slid to sleep with a quiet and guilty sigh.
=-----=-----=-----=-----=
“H-he-huhhhh! Hey! H-hey!” A tiny brown colt stuttered to the point of choking himself, rearing up and trying to snatch his ball back from the trio of bullies keeping it from him. “G-! GUH! Give that b-back!” he didn’t stutter too often, but when he was upset it really did go out of control.
“What’s the matter, Deep Psycho?” guffawed the teen above him, shoving him away with a thrust of magic. The much smaller Deep Psyche hit the ground with a yelp, scraping his knee. “Can’t’cha just magic it back?” the larger unicorn sneered, holding the red sphere high and forward.
Deep Psyche whimpered a little, standing and thrusting his horn as high as he could. Screwing up his face with all his might. His horn crackle-fizzled, but did little else. He was still too small, he couldn’t use magic yet. “Please give it back?” he tried, his eyes big and soft.
Unfortunately, cute didn’t work on bullies in his own age group. “Aw c’mon, what’s the fun in tha--!” suddenly the ball lifted from the bully’s hoof and smacked into his face. “Owch!” he reared and whinnied a little. Deep Psyche looked up with a gasp. Had he done that? “Hey what gives—owch!” the ball smacked him again, then bounced on his head until he started staggering about. “Knock it off! Ow! Hey!” the young unicorn rushed back and forth, trying to dodge the possessed toy. “Guh!” he finally took off in a panicked gallop.
When Deep Psyche found himself alone, he watched the ball levitate slowly down and stop at his hooves. He smiled gingerly, then looked up at the entrance of the alleyway. There stood his mother, on her way home from work to pick him up from magic kindergarten. She'd been the one making the ball float and defend him. Smiling and bounding along on his clumsy hooves, he thrust himself up into her chest for nuzzles. She chuckled a little, leaning down and smiling over him. “We showed him what for, huhm?” her voice was mildly deep for a mare, but it was a comforting thing for him. “What did I tell you about going down dark alleys?”
“S-sorry mom.” Deep Psyche said, smiling apologetically. Quickly trying to change the subject as he went to retrieve his ball, he made a round to come back. “How was work?” he said with a smile.
“It was fine, sweetheart.” She turned sideways as they made ready to walk home. Her saddlebag was filled to the brim with odds and ends for carpentry work. The powder blue mare had a screw on her flank, which glistened when the sun was on it. Deep Psyche smiled, wishing he had his cutie mark. He was what you might call a late-bloomer. No cutie mark, and not much magic yet. But he’d get there! Celestia as his witness, he’d get there someday! “Want a ride, kiddo?” said his mother playfully, nodding towards her saddlebag. Normally it was filled with scrap wood for the repair jobs she did, but at the end of the day it was always empty.
“Yeah!” Deep Psyche galloped forward, trying not to mix up his hooves and fall flat on his face. He was still growing into his big hooves, according to his mother. His Dad had big hooves too, he’d inherited them from him. Finally, he reared up and flipped the big bag open. Using her muzzle, his mother scooped him up and into it. He popped out like a baby kangaroo, squealing in excitement. The silver-maned mare smiled, nuzzling her son briefly and making sure he had his ball and his school bag with him. Closing one clip on the saddlebag to make sure that her foal was secure, she started down the street. She cantered to make him bounce a bit and he laughed, peering about.
Trottingham was a place of wooden buildings and plenty of steep hills, so it really was a lesser burden for the tiny foal to ride in his mother’s saddlebag. She was a strong pony, always carrying tools and wood around to help everypony with their repair and building knees. She was his hero. He hoped that someday he could work with wood too, and continue his mother’s work. His father, Deep Thoughts, was an author of several long and icky boring books. He didn’t wanna write for a living, that was boring! Not that he didn’t love his Daddy very much, his mother was just more interesting in her work. More warm and alive in her day to day life. His father was gentler, quieter, and a more shy pony. They made the perfect couple, and a great Mom and Dad to boot.
Well, they did.
Deep Psyche’s mother didn’t see the runaway cart racing down one of the steep hills of Trottingham. She was too busy studying the neighborhood roofs, wondering whom to approach for the next leaky roof project—who might need a splint here or a new shingle there. Her foal and her bag of tools weighed her down, but she was a strong mare so it hardly mattered to her. She did, however, look up when she heard it mowing down other things. Market kiosks exploded in a wide display of flying fruit as it crashed into them and kept going. Ponies screamed, throwing themselves out of the way so they didn’t get run over. The cart was full of hay and farm implements, a huge and heavy load.
Deep Psyche’s mother stared in horror, like a deer in headlights, as the cart bore down on her in the middle- of the street. She couldn’t move, why didn’t she move? Her foal whimpered in her right-side saddlebag. Her heavy iron tools clanked in her left-side saddle bag. She did what any mother would do, turning sideways at the last possible second to shield her young.
The impact rocked the foal’s world as his mother cried out at the impact. Both of them were launched into the air, pinwheeling wildly as the spray of screws, nails, and tools cascaded through the air like rain. He heard the crunch of bones, and the snap of wood on the cart. One of the wheels broke, sending the whole thing turning upside down. It landed atop the powder blue mare and her son. It struck her over the head, sending a splatter of blood across the ground as the two of them were pressed hard against the cobblestone. The foal’s front left leg broke and he cried out in a piercing shriek of agony. “Momma’aaahhh!” The world was spinning wildly out of control in a furious tornado of loose hay bales, farm tools, carpentry stuff and spatters of blood. When blessedly and finally the horrific scene came to a halt, the cart stopped at the bottom of the hill with the mother and foal pressed under it. “Momma…” the foal lay there limply, tears streaming from his eyes.
She lay next to him, bleeding heavily from the head. A lump was rising fast on her scalp and her temple was pouring blood. Her saddlebags were tattered, but by Celestia she’d saved his life, shielding him like that. The foal began to cry loudly, holding his broken arm as ponies rushed onto the scene from all sides.
“Get it off them!” Somepony shouted. “Hurry! Lift it from there! Use the frame, the whole thing’ll budge!” Many strong earth pony hooves began to heave at the cart itself while magic grasped at all the debris. It pulled away the splinters of wood, bringing light into the dark where the foal and his mother lay. A stray dog stuck his nose under the cart, then its whole head, sniffing loudly. “One! Two! Heeeeeave!” There was a group-sized grunt of effort as many hooves started lifting the cart.
Deep Psyche’s mother awoke from her stunned limpness when the dog nosed her a little. She stared at it, her eyes pointed in oddly angled directions. She looked strange! Blood pattering the cobblestone beneath her, she weakly lifted her head and looked around blearily. “Momma!” The tiny foal wept, thrusting himself into her breast and thanking whatever higher power that she was alive. “Mommaaaa-ha-ha-hahhhh!” he started weeping as loudly as a foal could, squeezing her with all his might.
“ARF!” said his mother, eyes jutting in odd directions. The dog recoiled in alarm, and the powder blue mare snarled at it. The brown foal looked up at his mother in shock. What? “ARF ARF ARF!” she said. The cart was finally rolled off of them, and the gathering of worried ponies stared. The injured mare, bleeding from the head, bore her teeth at them and struggled to her hooves. Crouching protectively over her crying puppy, she barked wildly. “ARF! ARF! ARF ARF ARF!”
=-----=-----=-----=-----=
Deep Psyche awoke to a moist pillow, as though he’d been weeping in his sleep. He wished he didn’t have to remember his dreams. Wasn’t there a medication out there yet that could suppress them? Sighing and trying to ignore the tremble in his heart, he turned over and swallowed quietly. On the end table was a picture of a brown stallion, brown foal, and powder blue mare. “Momma?” he asked the picture softly, still half-asleep. It didn’t answer him. The white hospital gown the mare in the picture was wearing spoke volumes, though. He visited her in Ponyville General when he could, which wasn’t often, but… but… The therapist laid his head down again with a quiet sigh. He’d learned the hard way that he couldn’t help her, not even once he’d graduated from the academy and made his name as a practicing psychologist. His mother Screw Loose couldn’t be saved, but… maybe Princess Luna could. Maybe that would ease his conscious. If he hadn’t been riding in his mother’s saddlebag, she could’ve dropped the other saddlebag and gotten out of the way. Neigh, instead she’d turned herself into a pony shield at the last second.
Princess Luna could be saved. He had to save her. He rubbed his moist eyes, turning his back on the picture with a soft and shaky sigh. He hated dreaming.
End of Intermission
Okay... So how in Tarterus is it that you can write so much? Giving us a chapter per day this last week, how can you keep that up? I am a little worried about that you burn out with that speed, and that would be bad since you are making my favorite non Fo:E fic in here.
You baffle me my good sir
1168458 I have a college degree in literature, secondary education, and writing. Writing is what I do for FUN, there's no burn out to be had.
(That, and August is Pony Writing Month. 50k words by the end of the month to complete the challenge. WPN sits at about 47k right now.)
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Oh...Poor Psyche
Was a little confused at the end of the dream but once I worked it out, oh god the feels
1168463 Lucky. I have yet to do anything regarding writing in high school. Actually, I have yet to ATTEND high school.
Did Deep's mother get renamed Screw Loose after the incident?
dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Soarin_dayum.png That origin story...flawless...
Well aside from: "help everypony with their repair and building knees."
Dammit, right in the feels.
As a way to boost the humor content of this page, I present what Deep should have said as the ponies were leaving his meeting:
denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw1879-132439304095.jpg scranton.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw2388-000836c1.gif
Awwww!
That is so sad! Great little intermission from all the other crap going on.
Poor Deep Psyche... And an excellent use of continuity! Screw Loose as a roof repair-pony. I never saw that one coming. Of course, now she's got a different interpretation for that.
Dude... So sad
I kinda empathize with Deep Psyche...
1168463
It's not a challenge if it's fun, it's a 'walk in the park.' For me, I'm decent at writing, but it's not what I like to do, and as such i end up making careless mistakes like forgetting to capitalize the 'I' in this sentence (you see what i did there?). I also learned a few months ago that when I write a story, I tend to write in a style that is of the 1800's, it came to my attention, and my surprise, that it actually hurts my writing.
Now if you ever need someone to write a program to correct grammar and spelling automatically based on your preference and a whitelist? I can do that, 10 days flat.
I wrote a java program that takes a person's human name and their intrest, and devises a MLP style pony name. thats how i came up with my name, i fudged it a bit, i told the program i liked history and swords. so it came up with Poniard Dagger. A Poniard is an small dagger used by clerics. so kinda like your name its a mix of two words that are almost the same.
I also just realized that I have to work on my "Celestia's Story," the one that I am attempting to keep canon with your "Luna's story." And if i may, i would like to request you as a editor, if you have the time, mostly in the capacity of making sure i dont flub up any of your canon facts.
GJ and best wishes!
You almost completed the challenge during the National Pony Writing Month.
I don't know what kind of strong emotions will come..
While NMM realize her vanish and Luna should dismiss her Luna Stallion Orphanage..
I hope that I won't have tears on my face.
1168478
im assuming that was just a hurtful nickname, kinda like Derpy's real name is ditzy do.
Ah, an origin story for our good doctor! Exactly what we needed, and well-written to boot. It was an excellent idea to give us this, as it gives us insight in and helps to develop Deep Psyche's character beyond just being Luna's therapist. Well done!
right in the feels
1168527
I guess so, but if it was a nickname, why would her own son be calling her that?
I don't see "Derpy Hooves" as being a hurtful nickname, just a fun prank someone may have pulled on her. "Derpy" isn't a sign of mental retardation, just a sign that she messes up a bit. Kinda like how I call myself bobtehnoob. I could have chosen many other things (and now I also use bobtehbrony), but I use bobtehnoob because I know that I act like an idiot. A lot.
1168478 Actually, if she was a carpenter, she might have been called screw loose cause she fixes loose screws so a change of name isn't really needed. After all, it would be weird and somewhat cruel to change someone's name just cause she got brain damaged in an accident.
1168478 No, "Screw Loose" refers to her job as a carpenter and roof repair pony.
ponybot.net/pix/3588.png
1161161 I'm awake now, too! Though that doesn't say anything. How about this. I was awake and eating breakfast at KFC 14-15 hours ago. And I'm still awake now. Crazy Twilight powers, GO!
EDIT: Dat pattern of 1s and 6s.
I can't hep but feel the Doctor Psycho.... oh fine, Doctor Psyche, is too emotionally invested in this.
Odd really, you'd think that a sad backstory would make one sympathetic towards a character, but for me it merely reinforced my dislike of him.
I quite liked this fic, until it turned rapey. That kind of went downhill :\
1168549>>1168551
I suppose so, but that's still kinda mean to call your newborn foal "Screw Loose".
"Go, Screw Loose, out into the world and explore how amazing it is!"
Kinda like naming a certain propeller-beanie pony Screwball.
My heart just got chipped
1168564 True, but its also odd to name them based on:
* Color (Pinkie Pie)
* A job they don't have yet (Photo Finish)
* A tool they've never used (Feather Duster)
* A personality trait they're to young to have displayed yet (Fluttershy)
Some ponies get their bodies and designs before their names, I think, haha.
Screw loose is deep psyche's mother? That is some intense headcanon, I never saw that coming.
1168581 Hmm... Did your pony come first? or your name 'Aegis Shield'? Just curious.
What's this stuff in my eyes...
1168599 I had the name "Cleff Scratches" for a long time, then I wrote Luna's Story: Rise of the Lunar Stallions. Partway through that, or perhaps right after writing that, I changed my name to Aegis Shield.
Aegis' name was based in the fact that a guard is meant to be something that shield's a princess from harm. Well, what sort of shield? Bulwark sounded like a big fat pony, so Aegis was my decision. You might say that first there was a guard, then there was a name, then later I became him, haha.
1168581
She was the first-born, her parent's had no creativity (Inkie and Blinkie), and the family name was Pie.
True... I guess. PONIES ARE PSYCHIC! OMG!
1168551 Really? Using a hammer for screws? Well, when all you have is a hammer...
casadeltequila.ch/images/porfidio/rum-angostura-gold-5-years-70cl-40.JPG
Believe me, it just works fine.
Also, this "bio" is too damn realistic.
I recall what my sister-in-law told me about the psychology field, she said the real reason people go into psychology is to try to solve their own problems.
so. sad. i actually cried. and. i NEVER cry.
Geez, would you take it easy on the feels? They can only take so much abuse!
1168551
Also, that is a hammer.
Hammer.
slowclap.mp3
Just brilliant.
1168675
If only it worked like that.
...wherein the reader learns that Deep Psyche is actually a dog.
*flips table* goddam! Can't take anymore sadness :'( great story though
Wow.... This was an incredible chapter. I find myself growing increasingly attached to Deep Psyche. I personally would love to see him in the show! What an incredible episode that would be!
1168581 - one of the Authors here solved this brilliantly: why can't ponies get 2 names: one at birth and then, much later, their "true" name.
The Pinkie example is a bit flawed though, as her full name is Pinkamina Diane Pie. As it is too cumbersome to use, she was just nicknamed Pinkie.
1168463 - thank you for the chapter. COOOOOL, as always. Your story is one of the best I had the pleasure to read in a very long time. A day without WPN is a day lost :].
Noooo... brain damage nooo! Well at least your an excellent doctor.
1168536
If I had access to them ALL of the "Right in the feels" animated GIFs.
1168936 Hilltopper, are you from WKU?
1168958
Uh? No? Don't even know what WKU is.
1168891 My headcanon has unicorns who have divination cutie marks, oracles or seers I guess. It's tradition to consult them before naming a newborn foal, although not everypony does.
1168967
WKU = Western Kentucky University
Western Kentucky University = My College, I just graduated from
Big Red = Their Mascot
Big Red = The Top of a Hill
Hilltopper = WKU Student
You, I like you!
1168997
Ah. No. I took it from Fox Hunting. The novice riders wear green coats and ride over the tops of hills rather than driving their horses through the underbrush.