The Cloudsdale Chronicles

by Boltstrike58

Session #1

With a heavy push, Swift Wing shoved the massive gathering of storm clouds across the sky, aided by several other pegasi. The clump was placed inside of a gigantic, magically enchanted net, designed to keep bits of the fluffy clouds from leaking out. Two other pegasi, each holding one end of the net, flew around Swift's squad.

"Okay, that's it! Cloud movers, you can dive now!" called out Cumulonimbus.

Swift's team obeyed, flying under and out of the net as the other two ponies tied the ends together, keeping the mass of storm clouds contained. With the ends secured, another group of ponies began hitching themselves to the net lines, in preparation to haul the net full of clouds across Equestria.

"Let's get moving, ponies!" Cumulonimbus yelled again. "Las Pegasus needs this storm yesterday!"

Soon enough, the filled net was carried away, and Swift's team of pegasi were left sitting on loose clouds, relaxing and gathering their strength. Pushing normal clouds wasn't very hard, but storm clouds were filled with extra water and lightning, which were heavier than one would expect. Not to mention they'd spent the last two hours making all of those clouds and sticking them together. Weather work was grueling at certain times.

Unfortunately for them, that moment of rest didn't last long, as Cumulonimbus blew her whistle, jolting everypony out of their stupor.

"Look alive, ponies! Not all of you are getting a break now, and we've got an order for cloudy skies over Canterlot tomorrow! Got more clouds to make, let's go go go!"

Thunder Snow groaned to himself. "I swear, she's trying to figure out how long we can go at this before we plummet out of the sky from sheer exhaustion."

Swift and the others shared a small laugh at that, but he, along with a few other ponies, broke off from the group to fly back towards the weather factory. His mid-shift break was scheduled for the next hour, which would give him just enough time to zip over to Dr. Stray Feather's for his appointment, and then come back for the last few hours. It wasn't the most optimal time for a counseling session, but it had been the best offer available to him, and his superiors had cleared it. If he didn't take this, he'd have to wait three more days just to see Dr. Feather.

However, just as he landed on the outer sector of the weather factory, he heard a call from behind.

"Swift, can I talk to you for a minute, before you go?"

Swift cursed silently. Meeting with his supervisor was something he'd always dreaded, even on Earth. He was reasonably certain he'd done nothing wrong, but his nerves always got to him.

You know you're probably gonna get fired. They're wondering why they even bothered to hire you in the first place and—

Swift fought down the urge to punch himself in the head. He closed his eyes and hummed loud enough to drown out the thoughts, even as he turned around and flew over to where Cumulonimbus was hovering in the air.

"Need something, boss?" he asked.

"Well, first off, I want to say you're doing a good job so far," said the mare. "We've put you in a bunch of different positions, and you've been handling most of them pretty well. I think we may end up assigning you to the cloud formation group on a regular basis, given how well you're doing there. You've got quite a bit of endurance."

Swift's spirits perked up a little, though they immediately dropped down again at the next few words.

"But something I notice is you're not being exactly...how should I say this...a team member." At Swift's forlorn expression, she hurriedly raised her hooves. "Not that you're not putting in the work! When you're part of a team, you do your share, nopony questions that."

"Then what do you mean?" Swift asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer.

Cumulonimbus rubbed her forehooves together, like she was trying to come up with the proper words. "You're not a very social pony. You don't chat with the others between jobs, or even during jobs when you're working the same thing. Sure, if somepony asks you a question, you'll answer it, but you never chime into conversations with what you have to say, or anything like that."

Swift groaned. "I don't see how that affects my ability to do my job," he replied, trying his best not to sound as annoyed as he felt. The last thing he needed right now was to get fired for talking back.

"Hey, a big part of this job is working in teams," Cumulonimbus pointed out. "Maybe if you had some friends it would be easier for you. Plus, we do actually want you to enjoy your job."

Swift sighed to himself, before turning back towards the factory. "Making friends...isn't something I'm good at. I've got a lot of work to do."

Before he could fly away, Cumulonimbus laid a hoof on his shoulder. "Look, Swift, I don't know your life. But you seem like a good pony. I just don't want you to be miserable working here." She flew around to his front. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

The crimson stallion shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, boss, I really do. But I need something I don't think you can provide."

With that, he took off towards the main section of the city, leaving a rather somber looking Cumulonimbus behind.

---

After clocking out from work, Swift scurried across town to get to Dr. Feather's office on time. He'd been late to therapy appointments back on Earth, and it always made him feel like garbage, even if the therapist in question didn't complain. Fortunately, the streets of Cloudsdale weren't super packed today.

Finally, Swift stood outside Dr. Stray Feather's clinic. Here, he hesitated again. This was probably his last chance to come to his senses and back out of this with no consequence. He doubted they would hunt him down, he didn't even owe them any money yet.

Slowly, he walked up, pushed open the door and made his way inside.

The lobby was the same as it had been on the day he'd made this appointment. The same receptionist sat at the desk, going over some papers. No other ponies occupied the space, for which he was thankful, as it meant no awkward staring. Swift simply told her what he was there for, and she told him to have a seat and wait for the doctor. Then she got up, heading through a door on the back wall. Seeing no other options available to him, Swift followed her orders, plopping down into a chair.

For several minutes, nothing happened. Swift sat on his rear like a cat, all four hooves drawn up onto the chair with him, his tail occasionally swishing over his front hooves. His wings fidgeted on his back, a reflection of his currently restless mood. None of the old magazines sitting around the lobby held any appeal to him. All that interested him was getting this over with.

After what seemed like an hour, but was really only a few minutes, the door opened once more, revealing the receptionist, as well as a pegasus Swift assumed was Dr. Feather. She had a bright, bubblegum-pink coat, a lemon-colored mane, and a pair of glasses balanced on her muzzle. Her eyes were bright purple. She wore no other clothing, leaving her Cutie Mark clearly visible: a simple, cartoonish red heart, though this one had a stitch running down the center of it.

"Ah," she said, as she walked into the room, "you must be Swift Wing." Swift nodded, afraid to open his mouth. He got off the chair, and the two touched hooves in a simple greeting. "It's nice to meet you. Come on back."

Swift followed the mare through the back door, down a short hallway, until they reached her office. She opened the door, then motioned for him to go inside, which he did. Her office was fairly typical by the standards of psychologists Swift had visited before. She had a long couch, a desk, an armchair (what did they call those on this planet?) a few scattered plants, a bookshelf filled with titles about mental health, and what looked like a small fountain that probably ran on magic. Swift, familiar with what happened next, climbed onto the couch, settling down on his butt.

Dr. Feather followed, settling into the armchair in a position that a more humanoid creature would be likely to sit in. She grabbed a few papers from the desk with one hoof. "Okay, so before we get to the important things, I want to get to know you a little bit first. According to the information you provided, you work at the Cloudsdale Weather Factory. Is that correct?"

Swift willed himself to respond. "Yes," was all that came out, in a sort of croaking voice.

Fortunately for him, Dr. Feather either didn't notice his speech problem, or didn't care. "Alright. Can you tell me more about yourself?"

Swift swallowed. Here, he was afraid of letting too much information slip. His true nature, for example. He knew that Equestria's government couldn't know more about him than they already did, and they'd already promised to leave him alone, but he didn't want the fact that he was of a different universe to be the driving point of his therapy. He'd discarded his human life and body, and he was a pony now, so he should act like one. What came before simply didn't matter. He braced himself, and began to tell the story he'd rehearsed.

"There's not a ton to tell, actually. I've been around Equestria, working some odd jobs here and there, but nothing's really stuck for very long. I tried settling down in Ponyville, but...it didn't work out. So I came here."

Stray Feather nodded. "I can see that," she acknowledged. "I've never lived there myself, but from what I've heard, Ponyville's become the weird capital of Equestria over the last few years. Comes with being the home of Princess Twilight, I imagine. Cloudsdale is definitely more relaxed. Now what—"

"Excuse me," Swift interrupted, "but there is one more thing you should probably know about me before we start."

Dr. Feather titled her head to the side, curious. "Okay, what's that?"

Shifting his position on the couch, Swift began removing the pants he always wore whenever he left the house, slowly revealing his secret. "I'm a...blank flank," he admitted, his voice heavy with shame, as he waited for her reaction.

However, Dr. Feather didn't display any obvious signs of shock, like dropping her jaw or springing her wings outward. Her eyelids lowered a small amount, but she otherwise had no change in expression. Instead, she merely made a note on one of the papers. Swift, feeling a bit awkward, pulled up his pants again.

"I see," noted the mare. "I understand why that might be...detrimental to your mental health."

Swift nodded numbly.

"Do you have any idea why you never obtained a Cutie Mark?"

Truth be told, even with all the research he'd done regarding Cutie Marks, Swift still didn't know if it was something to do with the dimensional transport, or if it was just him. He wasn't about to tell her that, of course.

"I'm not sure, to be honest. I guess...I just never found anything I was really good at. When I was a foal, I never really did anything outside of school besides play around. As I got older and older, I just...never found something."

Stray Feather made another quick note. "I know this doesn't make it better for you, but you're not the first adult blank flank I've worked with. You're not even the oldest. Trust me when I say you're not alone, Swift."

She was correct, it really didn't make him feel any better. In his head, he knew that could've meant there was still hope, but in his heart, he was still dejected at not having a Cutie Mark in the first place.

"I guess my first question would be, do you want a Cutie Mark?" Dr. Feather continued. "Believe it or not, I have had patients that remained blank flanks because they didn't want Marks. If you do, why? What does a Cutie Mark mean to you?"

This was an easy question.

"To me, a Cutie Mark is a purpose, something I've always wanted. A Cutie Mark is basically a statement to the world that you have the power to do something, something nopony else can do. At least it proves you're capable of doing something. I just want that for myself, for once in my life. I've even read that the presence of the Cutie Mark allows everypony to actually do better at their talent than they would otherwise. And I'm not sure what reason I have to exist without a Mark."

Stray Feather paid close attention as Swift spoke. "I guess I wouldn't go that far," she replied. "However, I won't judge you. If you want to get a Cutie Mark, we should probably start thinking of things you could get a Mark for."

"That's something I'm concerned about, actually," Swift admitted. "I don't really have hobbies or anything like that. If I keep working at the weather factory, will I automatically just get a weather Cutie Mark? If I did, would I be happy with that? Am I capable of getting more than one Cutie Mark, and it'll just be the first thing I work on? From what I read, nopony knows, and I...just don't know what to do with that."

Dr. Feather looked rather sympathetic as she watched Swift. "I don't blame you," she finally responded. "Cutie Mark magic isn't an exact science, and there are a lot of things nopony knows. Are you sure you don't have any hobbies?"

"Yeah. For me, it's pretty much work, go home, maybe read a book or two. And who wants a Cutie Mark for reading, you know? I'm just...not good at anything."

"That can't be true. Nopony can be bad at everything."

Swift looked down at the floor, feeling the pit in his stomach sinking even lower. "I just...nothing comes to mind. I mean, I'm not looking for a new job or anything, I know there are tons of ponies with occupations completely unrelated to their Marks. I just wish I had something I was passionate about."

"You're not passionate about your work at the weather factory?"

"I can't say that I am. I do take pride in it, at least, but I don't think I want it to define me. Which...I guess pretty much answers my earlier question. Having a weather Cutie Mark wouldn't be awful, but I'm pretty sure I'd rather have something else."

"I can understand that," replied Dr. Feather, "though you have to realize that nopony starts out as good at something. If you really want to work at getting a Cutie Mark in something, you'd need to start out at the bottom and practice."

"Yeah, I know," Swift replied, glumly. He'd had similar conversations back on Earth, though of course, there'd been no mention of Cutie Marks. It was something he'd always had trouble with. He'd try a new thing, not be extraordinarily good at it right away, get frustrated, dump it, and then feel bad about himself for doing so. He was ashamed of the cycle, of course, but it didn't make the habit any easier to break.

"Does anypony else know you're a blank flank?" asked Dr. Feather, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"No, I'm too embarrassed to admit it. I don't really have any friends I'd be willing to tell. Anypony I grew up with has probably long forgotten me by this point, so they don't know."

Dr. Feather placed her forehooves together. "I'm guessing that makes it harder for you. You feel ashamed of being a blank flank, so you don't talk to anybody, so then you feel lonely, and don't feel like doing anything, which means you don't get a Cutie Mark, and it just repeats in a cycle."

"That's a good way of putting it, yeah," said Swift. "It's a problem I want to fix, I'm just not sure how."

"Well, if we want to change your life," continued Dr. Feather, "you need to actually go out and do things. You understand that much at least, right?"

Swift nodded, fear beginning to creep down his spine, as he knew what was coming next.

"I'd also like to find a way for you to work on your social life, but I do realize that social skills don't come naturally to everypony. What I'm thinking is that maybe when you do start developing hobbies, you'll at least have that as a conversation starter, and the friends will follow a little more easily."

"But..." Swift stumbled over his words, "but every time I try something new, I just...fail. And then I feel worse about myself because I didn't make it, and because everypony around me seems to make it so easily. I wouldn't even know what new things to try. Not to mention I don't really know anything about making friends. It's so bad my supervisor at the weather factory actually called me out for not making friends with my coworkers just before I came here."

Dr. Feather gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Swift. From what I'm hearing from you, you have a lot of deep-seated psychological problems. It's bad, because you seem like a good pony who doesn't deserve to have all these things."

Swift perked up a little.

"We need to find a way to teach you not to judge yourself so harshly, and have more confidence to grow and move on in life," she continued.

"Well, we've certainly got our work cut out for us," Swift grumbled, still not feeling very optimistic.

"I honestly believe every creature has the ability to succeed. I'll admit, some have it harder than others, through no fault of their own, but they can make it."

"I want to believe the same thing," replied Swift, "it's just...I've never been able to see the value in me for myself."

"That's another thing I think we should talk about. Do you have any idea where this lack of self-esteem comes from?"

That was easy to answer. "I'm pretty sure it's due to my older sister constantly telling me I was living garbage while we were growing up."

Stray Feather winced. "That can't have made things easier for you."

"It didn't," Swift continued. "She hates me. She's always hated me. And our mother never really intervened enough to actually help me. That's the main reason I have no contact with my family anymore."

"That's understandable. At least you were smart enough to cut the toxic people out of your life when you had the option."

Oh, you have no idea, Swift thought.

Dr. Feather looked up from the notes she'd been writing. "From everything you've told me about yourself, Swift, you seem like a good pony who's had a lot of unfortunate circumstances to deal with. But I honestly don't believe you're beyond help. You just need to figure out ways to get around yourself."

"If only it were that easy, right?" Swift joked.

"We're out of time for today," said Dr. Feather. "However, we can make our next appointment now. I look forward to working with you." She held out her hoof again, and Swift pressed his own against it, slightly less hesitantly.

---

Swift strolled out of the office, his pose neutral, betraying none of the inner turmoil he was going through. He took a moment to mull over the session he'd just been through, thinking about everything Dr. Feather had said, and what it could mean for his future.

Dr. Feather hadn't really told him anything he didn't already know about himself. He knew his serious lack of self-esteem only made his attempts to make friends harder. It probably wasn't the sole contributing factor, but he knew his sister's endless cruelty had only made his view of himself worse.

The psychologist herself seemed alright. Dr. Feather was a decent pony who clearly wanted him to get better and didn't minimize his problems or the things that'd led to them. He had a feeling she was trustworthy, and would definitely come back.

Looking up, Swift spread his wings, taking off from the cloudy ground and making his way back towards the weather factory for the rest of his shift. He just hope his sessions with Dr. Feather would end up making a difference in his life.

Comments

[ruthim345]

Interesting! I'm looking forward to where this goes.

[Lunatic God]

I hope these sessions work out. Don't wanna see such a good pony wasted.

[harts fire]

this is vary interesting how this story is planing out.

[Zilverfoss]

Maybe if you had some friends it would be easier for you. Plus,

I get what they're trying to say, but would a tried team coordinator really put it like that?

Seems loners stick out that much more in a naturally herd seeking specie..

[Luckyfanisaac]

Swift willed himself to respond. "Yes," was all that came out, in a sort of croaking voice.

so he should act like one.

which means you’ll never get a Cutie Mark,

[mustangdrew4]

I'm glad that Swift is sticking with the therapy sessions. I can see them becoming a lighthouse in the storm that is his mental state.

Also hoping he finds something he's passionate about soon. It's disheartening to see someone without something they truly enjoy.

[KvAT]

10684853
Yep. Even humans, who are social but not necessarily a herding species, would easily notice loners within a group. For an evolutionary herd animal, he would be triple obvious.