Trixie lay upon a padded floor inside a small, square room, a space about two body lengths long by two lengths wide. In front of her a conveyor belt moved, flowing continuously from one side of the room to the other.
Riding the belt, a pebble entered the room. "Teacup!" Trixie said, as a bolt of magic from her horn struck the pebble. When the flash of light faded, the pebble's size and mass had increased by a factor of at least twenty. Also, it was now a teacup.
One of the electrodes which years ago had been implanted in Trixie's brain energized, giving her a small jolt of pleasure. She smiled, watching the piece of crockery pass out of the room.
Pebble after pebble entered the room, and Trixie transformed each in the same way. "Teacup!... Teacup!... Teacup!..." She created thousands of teacups during a length of time she could not measure (for her room had no clock or calendar.) She found pleasure in each act of transformation...the pleasure her electrode gave her.
Finally, the room's light faded to half-brightness, and the conveyor belt paused. Warm air blew from grates in the walls and ceiling, and warm water sprayed from above. The runoff exited through evenly spaced drains in the floor.
After a minute, a tone sounded. Trixie rolled herself onto her side, as the water continued spraying.
Trixie didn't get up to move, because she didn't have legs. She'd had legs as a foal, but as part of her Ceremony of Maturity, they had been removed under anesthesia. She had also given up some other unneeded parts. She need not worry about the complications of being a mare or a stallion. As she'd walked her last steps ever, into the surgery facility, she had felt so proud! The second starter set of electrodes in her brain had ensured it.
Three minutes later, when Trixie had been well washed all over, the water stopped, but the warm air blowers continued.
With each tone, she rolled over another quarter turn. Twelve minutes later the lights returned to full brightness, and she refocused her attention upon the conveyor belt in front of her.
Thousands more pebbles or bits of waste awaited her teacup making skills.
***
Trixie didn't live a very complicated life. She didn't go out of her room, she didn't visit family or friends. Electrodes stimulated the parts of her brain that would find joy and satisfaction in such activities. It was like friendship without risks, without effort, on a perfectly timed and calibrated schedule.
She probably would not live as long as a pony might who exercised her body and mind in more varied ways. But on another hoof, she was kept safe from many kinds of mischance and harm. She never had to worry where her next meal was coming from, if a manticore might eat her, if some winter she might encounter difficulties finding warm shelter, if social unrest or war might find a target in her.
She was guaranteed lifelong happiness, delivered as a constant electric trickle with extra intermittent jolts of joy on top of that.
Maturity was exactly as she'd been taught when she was a foal, but it was more too.
She was always, always happy.
***
Sometimes, Trixie wondered about how the system was run, on a larger scale. Were there ponies who had to perform work much more complicated than creating perfect teacups from bits of rubbish? Were there ponies who had to switch between one task and another, to handle unsual events? Did a few ponies need to wander from place to place, improvising solutions to the unexpected? Or was the system so perfectly planned that nopony ever needed to learn or change or grow again, once Maturity was reached?
If there were ponies whose lives were not completely planned in advance, she felt sorry for them. As a foal in history class, she'd learned about the random and terrible things that used to happen long ago. Her class had even done a Hunger unit, having to subsist on quarter rations or no rations at all from mealtime to mealtime. They hadn't even known until each mealtime itself whether they would eat!
Those had been the three most miserable days of her life. She was so happy it was over and done with! And to be fair, a few days of suffering wasn't such a large price to pay, for understanding and appreciating how good her usual foalhood days and nights were, and how perfect her Maturity.
***
The only little wrinkle in Trixie's existence was, at night she had to sleep, and while sleeping...sometimes she dreamt.
If she dreamt of something terrifying or painful, her electrode array would detect the problem. It would either push her sleep into a non-dreaming stage, or it would wake her up.
Sometimes, though, Trixie had dreams that were neither terrible nor agonizing...but strange. Disquieting.
Maybe once or twice every ten sleep cycles, she would dream she was in an emormous palace, a maze of marble halls and pillars. Some rooms were larger than others; a very few halls or high-ceilinged chambers were so long or so vast that she could barely see one end of the space from the other.
In that palace, most rooms and hallways were swept and dusted and washed by servitors, ponies who had legs. In these dreams, Trixie had legs too. Even though in her Maturity she wasn't supposed to have unneeded parts, her limbs didn't disturb her. While she traveled through the Palace, they weren't superfluous at all.
A few times in her life, during such dreams, Trixie had wandered out of the well lit, carefully cleaned regions of the Palace, into other sections. Places that were dusty and dim. Places where she could see by the accumulation of cobwebs and dirt that nopony except herself had visited to leave hoofprints, not in a very long time.
During one of those dreams, Trixie had walked into one of the high-vaulted rooms, to discover a pony twice as large as any normal Mature. The oversize pony lay sprawled upon a golden couch, which stood atop a high dais, a pyramid of many steps.
The strange pony's coat might have gleamed white had it been clean, but it was as fouled with dust and dirt as everything else in the room.
Trixie slowly climbed the dais' steps, until she could rear up to place her forelegs upon the golden chair, and study the larger pony up close. Trixie shivered. The large, unconscious creature had not only a full set of fore and rear legs, but also yet another pair of limbs, which instead of velvety fur bore feathers.
What was this horrible monstrosity? How could such a thing exist, in a world where everypony had her place and was perfectly fitted to it? What could possibly be the function of such a strange creature?
Trixie's heart filled with fear. A second later, she awoke. She was safe and warm in her room. Her dream had been only a dream, nothing more.
She was safe, and the world was as it should be.
Author's Note:
Um...the majority of my stories are not like this one.
Other Stories That Are At Least a LITTLE Like This One?
Here's the part where, by talking about the relationships between different pieces of literature and variations on related ideas, I risk convincing audiences and judges that a story wasn't really 'all THAT creative.'
The related trope 'in the future, it's usual for a person to live alone in a small cubicle or room while their inclination or ability to travel atrophies' might first have been used in E. M. Forster's "The Machine Stops," a story first published in 1909.
Pulling a carriage in New York City isn't all that different from pulling a carriage in Equestria. Except for the regulationsâthe law is complicated, and not really set up for an Equestrian pony.
Twilight Sparkle had realized that she had been here before and that she had realized that she had been here before and that she had realized that she had been here before.
To keep pony-shaped robots from eating their brains, Sue and her friends fled into the mountains, where the girls live by their hunting skills and their wits. But Sue discovers the truth is more complicated than she'd thought.
A collection of documents pertaining to SCP-7663, including Experiment 7663. WARNING: LEVEL â ACCESS IS REQUIRED TO VIEW THESE FILES. UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS CAN AND WILL RESULT IN DISCIPLINARY ACTION UP TO AND INCLUDING TERMINATION.
Fluttershy's friends might call the gentle pegasus sensitive. But they don't know the half of it. What is she always so afraid of, anyway? And why is SHE the one pony who can go toe-to-toe with the Avatar of Chaos himself?
Luna tries to prove she's really Celestia's mother. Will she succeed? Contains at least one lawyer joke, but it's about EQUESTRIAN lawyers, so it's ok.
Cadance wonders what Flurry Heart is the alicorn princess OF. Twilight Sparkle turns perfectionist (Ha! I'll bet you never saw THAT one coming!) and tries to figure out who's more inadequate, Flurry Heart or her mother?
Okay, this is genuienly uncomfortable and disturbing, so good job on that premise.
I personally think that the dream seemed like a wake up call, and expected that it went towards going against her current state, that the single/two sentences at the ending letting be Trixie felt relaxed felt way too abrupt.
Maybe changing it to "the ring belled, and the wastes on the belt appeared again. Trixie turned one into a cup, than the next one. The electric shocks filled her brain with joy, and she knew that she was safe, and the world was as it should be." would work out better? To return to the previous state in a more slower way.
But otherwise, very interesting and disturbing premise
When I first read this, I could only think that this story was a My Little Pony version of Warhammer 40k and that Trixie was made into their equivalent of a servitor.
Now, after I read it again I found out that Iâm both wrong and correct.
She is technically a Servitor, but instead of a painful and miserable life like the ones from Warhammer live, she seems to be okay with her life (even if it is just making teacups forever) and appears to be allowed things that a 40k servitor could only dream of like the ability to sleep, dream, and be happy.
This is enjoyably disturbing. Thanks! Only one sentence that pulled me out of it:
"And to be fair, a few days of suffering wasn't such a large price to pay, for understanding and appreciating how good her usual foalhood days and nights were, and how perfect her Maturity."
It's missing the last word (I think), has a comma splice, an extra space between"to" and "pay", and some confusion with using the word "and" too much. I wouldn't have noticed anything wrong with it if it wasn't missing that last "was", but I looked it over again after the sentence felt wrong and realized all the other things.
Awesome little story, and thank you for writing it!
it's always an odd experience for me to see one of these types of stories pop up in the feature box or just popular stories.
Sadly, usually it's because I don't really I guess "process" these types of things the way others do.
Now I get the horror theme of her situation. That's... really messed up. But at the end of the day I'm filled with questions that I guess ruins the desired effect?
Basically, it's like this: Okay from what I get, in this world you have foals that grow up and I guess cared for, but eventually you reach 'Maturity' and when that happens you can be 'processed' and put into a situation like this, which is really messed up. Sounds like there is another story happening right now where a group of rag-tag ponies are banding together to revolt and take down the corrupt government. (I'd rather see that story honestly, but that's obviously not the point of THIS story.)
So... why is she making teacups? Like who are they for? Is there some test or something you take when you hit "Maturity" that dictates if you become a teacup machine or a normal pony/person? I have to assume there are adults who are TEACHING the kids. Or is it a group of aliens and they've been processing the ponies like this? AKA Promised Neverland sorta deal? In short, this world doesn't make much sense to me.
I feel like most people fear things they don't understand, but I'm not one of those types. So I'm usually left reading one of these types of stories with a: "So... what was I supposed to take away from this?"
11543130 It certainly raises the question of who's using that many teacups, assuming that it's only an elite few who are allowed to retain their free will.
[Mockingbirb deleted this comment shortly after posting, because they decided the tone was too jovial for the story. If the comment is of special importance to you, you can ask Mockingbirb for the relevant material.]
Seriously, I would like to thank all of you for your various interesting comments that help me better understand how you see the story, and also Fanreader.
Presumably there's somepony in another room making teapots.
And why is everyone saying this is horror? She's perfectly happy without even the possibility of sadness, or pain, or grief. Do you want her to feel those things?
When the flash of light faded, the pebble's size and mass had increased by a factor of at least twenty. Also, it was now a teacup.
ooh, i can guess where this is going, and that the âteacupâ part isnât too relevant to whoever set this up
One of the electrodes which years ago had been implanted in Trixie's brain energized, giving her a small jolt of pleasure. She smiled, watching the piece of crockery pass out of the room.
aww, Trixie gets a small jolt of pleasure! thatâs nice!Â
Trixie didn't get up to move, because she didn't have legs. She'd had legs as a foal, but as part of her Ceremony of Maturity, they had been removed under anesthesia.
well, that escalated quickly!
She was guaranteed lifelong happiness, delivered as a constant electric trickle with extra intermittent jolts of joy on top of that.
Maturity was exactly as she'd been taught when she was a foal, but it was more too.
She was always, always happy.
and, oof. all of the irreducible meaning of equinity reduced to this. but if it is instinctively horrifying, what is it other than a logical extension of the logic of industrialized agriculture? really makes you think about human society
If there were ponies whose lives were not completely planned in advance, she felt sorry for them. As a foal in history class, she'd learned about the random and terrible things that used to happen long ago. Her class had even done a Hunger unit, having to subsist on quarter rations or no rations at all from mealtime to mealtime. They hadn't even known until each mealtime itself whether they would eat!
and of course, this endpoint of the process of domestication requires a justification for it as well. itâs just that in this case, it is being told to the domesticated as well as the domesticators
What was this horrible monstrosity? How could such a thing exist, in a world where everypony had her place and was perfectly fitted to it? What could possibly be the function of such a strange creature?
and what could be a more horrific sign of this perversion of the natural order of things, than this pony being filled with revulsion at the sight of an Alicorn Princess?Â
(in all seriousness though, beautiful and thematic metaphor. reminds me of the end of âTrixie Sexes a Chickenâ but even better)
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Okay, this is genuienly uncomfortable and disturbing, so good job on that premise.
I personally think that the dream seemed like a wake up call, and expected that it went towards going against her current state, that the single/two sentences at the ending letting be Trixie felt relaxed felt way too abrupt.
Maybe changing it to "the ring belled, and the wastes on the belt appeared again. Trixie turned one into a cup, than the next one. The electric shocks filled her brain with joy, and she knew that she was safe, and the world was as it should be." would work out better? To return to the previous state in a more slower way.
But otherwise, very interesting and disturbing premise
sp00py yet fascinating
Saw this story's premise, was like oh this looks cute, then glanced at the tags and see Horror/Sci-Fi. Now I'm even more interested!
O.o well that was definitely a horrifying sci-fi, amazing job with this!
Mm.
What the FUCK đ¤Ł
When I first read this, I could only think that this story was a My Little Pony version of Warhammer 40k and that Trixie was made into their equivalent of a servitor.
Now, after I read it again I found out that Iâm both wrong and correct.
She is technically a Servitor, but instead of a painful and miserable life like the ones from Warhammer live, she seems to be okay with her life (even if it is just making teacups forever) and appears to be allowed things that a 40k servitor could only dream of like the ability to sleep, dream, and be happy.
40k/10, will read a sequel if one is made.
This is enjoyably disturbing. Thanks! Only one sentence that pulled me out of it:
"And to be fair, a few days of suffering wasn't such a large price to pay, for understanding and appreciating how good her usual foalhood days and nights were, and how perfect her Maturity."
It's missing the last word (I think), has a comma splice, an extra space between"to" and "pay", and some confusion with using the word "and" too much. I wouldn't have noticed anything wrong with it if it wasn't missing that last "was", but I looked it over again after the sentence felt wrong and realized all the other things.
Awesome little story, and thank you for writing it!
Intrueging and discomforting, good job!
That was... an experience. Thank you.
Disquieting indeed.
Itâs odd that I just watched an old excerpt from the episode âMagic Duelâ.
Now I need to sleep... somehow.
it's always an odd experience for me to see one of these types of stories pop up in the feature box or just popular stories.
Sadly, usually it's because I don't really I guess "process" these types of things the way others do.
Now I get the horror theme of her situation. That's... really messed up. But at the end of the day I'm filled with questions that I guess ruins the desired effect?
Basically, it's like this: Okay from what I get, in this world you have foals that grow up and I guess cared for, but eventually you reach 'Maturity' and when that happens you can be 'processed' and put into a situation like this, which is really messed up. Sounds like there is another story happening right now where a group of rag-tag ponies are banding together to revolt and take down the corrupt government. (I'd rather see that story honestly, but that's obviously not the point of THIS story.)
So... why is she making teacups? Like who are they for? Is there some test or something you take when you hit "Maturity" that dictates if you become a teacup machine or a normal pony/person? I have to assume there are adults who are TEACHING the kids. Or is it a group of aliens and they've been processing the ponies like this? AKA Promised Neverland sorta deal? In short, this world doesn't make much sense to me.
I feel like most people fear things they don't understand, but I'm not one of those types. So I'm usually left reading one of these types of stories with a: "So... what was I supposed to take away from this?"
11543130
It certainly raises the question of who's using that many teacups, assuming that it's only an elite few who are allowed to retain their free will.
11543363
The sequel will be in the next room, where the teacups are changed into pebbles...
[Mockingbirb deleted this comment shortly after posting, because they decided the tone was too jovial for the story. If the comment is of special importance to you, you can ask Mockingbirb for the relevant material.]
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Seriously, I would like to thank all of you for your various interesting comments that help me better understand how you see the story, and also Fanreader.
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Your cautious use of the spoiler tag reflects well upon you, imho.
Well...I did not see that coming...
I describe stories like this as a "gut-punch:" quick, unexpected, and downright disturbing.
But...at least she's happy, so...yay?
Certainly not what I expected... But I quite liked it. Dystopian horror is always fun, and this was a cute little read. Thank you!
you could never imagine being unconditionally happy all the time! the revulsion you feel is actually JEALOUSY!
Presumably there's somepony in another room making teapots.
And why is everyone saying this is horror? She's perfectly happy without even the possibility of sadness, or pain, or grief. Do you want her to feel those things?
When automation goes wrong.
oh, you wrote chicken sex and fluttermop! i thought this prose sounded familiar. Thanks for everything you've written!
Excellent premise, execution delivers on the concept. Nice work!
ooh, i can guess where this is going, and that the âteacupâ part isnât too relevant to whoever set this up
aww, Trixie gets a small jolt of pleasure! thatâs nice!Â
well, that escalated quickly!
and, oof. all of the irreducible meaning of equinity reduced to this. but if it is instinctively horrifying, what is it other than a logical extension of the logic of industrialized agriculture? really makes you think about human society
and of course, this endpoint of the process of domestication requires a justification for it as well. itâs just that in this case, it is being told to the domesticated as well as the domesticators
and what could be a more horrific sign of this perversion of the natural order of things, than this pony being filled with revulsion at the sight of an Alicorn Princess?Â
(in all seriousness though, beautiful and thematic metaphor. reminds me of the end of âTrixie Sexes a Chickenâ but even better)
amazing work, birb!