> A Vinyl Asylum - An Acoustic Sanctum > by Ponyess > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue is Analysis: 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Satyrville is a bustling little village. I am proud to be living here and be part of the warm and friendly community. Seeing Celestia’s Sun come up early each morning and Luna’s Moon, late each night. The later is a sign for me to get the next concert going. Each night of the week, dedicated to a segment of the population, celebrating a special type of music. Stubborn Satyres managed to go to work, this kept the situation in the dark for far too long. Had Twilight seen the problem, she had done something, in the manner she was known for, to the point of being legendary. She may have been out on the wrong road on occasion, but organising was her purpose. Twilight Sparkle wasn’t merely the grey bureaucrat one may have expected, she is also a great friend, one who take the front when need be. Putting her bravery and magic to the test. With a Princess like Twilight Sparkle, the rule had been pulled in close, rather than been pushed out and away. Satyr-ville had been experiencing a boon, from the moment she arrived at the village, although there are the few moments her presence did stick out, like at her first Winter Wrap-Up. As Twilight approved my proposal, she instantly threw in her support and applied some force into making it come to fruition. The resources required had been put up at my disposal and the first wing was up within a week. I guess you could say that I am impressed by how quickly she managed to get the asylum into effect. Even if I had very little space, there is enough to face the first few Satyrs; Mares, Stallions, Fillies and colts as they came trickling into my office. There are a few small cells, where they were to stay over the duration of the treatment. There is little more than a bed in the room, but they would need little else. Mares’ and stallions’ room, shower, all are available at the end of the hall. There is also a restaurant, serving meals for the patients. Thankfully, my facilities had been erected at the edge of the quiet part of town. That will prove very convenient and beneficial to my patients. I want them to recover as quickly and completely as I can. What I had in mind for the treatment, require both the acoustics and privacy of an indoors hall. The small stage, set up with speakers on the short wall. The tunes had been picked with great care. I wanted to fire up each and every Satyr as best I could. At the back of the hall, several chairs had been lined up. I stand at the scene, a set of discs piled up as the first few patients filed in. The first tune is playing quietly while they file in. This is a low beat, but pleasantly optimistic. From there I change to a more upbeat tune, and turn up the volume to warm the room up. A few minutes into the treatment, the base is clearly heard, booming over the noises of hooves on the floor. Faces looking up towards the scene with cautiously, vaguely optimistic expressions. Unless I am seriously mistaken. For about an hour, the volume builds up. The beat is going and base is now hitting the wall so hard no paintings could stay up. Tentative smiles playing on the lips of the gathered Satyrs. During the hour I keep the upbeat, high beat-rate, I see a few of them dace, not the way they had been seen dancing on the previous parties, when they still attended them, but at least, they are dancing. The next hour, I slowly turn the volume down, tune by tune. I want to ease them back to the common quiet they are to have on their respective rooms. Or the shock may bring them even further down than they had been, as they signed in, as I fear. After about three full hours, I played the final tune for this session. After that, I turn off the equipment and power down, before I move off of the stage to take a first look at the patients. “The beat really hit me, it made feel alive. When will you have the next session for us?” asked a grey mare with a hint of a smile as she walked out of the room towards her bed. “Just after breakfast. Should give me just enough time to make a full session I hope the schedule was on your room so that you know when you go where!” I put forth. “Yeah, right there by the bed on my bed-stand!” she responded. “Good!” I responded as I saw her walk out the door towards her room. Within the time-span of a few more minutes, I could see the remainder of them walk out through the door and continue towards their respective rooms, most likely to rest and relax, waiting for the next point on the schedule. A moment after I had seen the back of the last one filing out of the hall, I followed them out, although I went to my office, where I promptly sat down in my chair. I opened my notebook and made a few notes of the observations. I had seen some sure sign of progress, but knowing it is far from certain, just how I was to make it. How could I know if they were even to recover? Several weeks of observation, during the coming sessions would give me a better idea, of course. Observation and analysis is what I have to rely upon. The mare I had been talking to, had managed to make her way to her room safely. She sat down on her bed, looking at the wooden panels, covering the walls in the room. She noted that there was no dust under her bed. The air slowly flowed from the right to the left in the room. A detail she had stopped caring about where she had been spending her woken time at work, then promptly went to bed, too tired to care for much after she got home. The poor mare had obviously had a life and still does have a family to come back to. If and when she can recover and find the strength to go out, just to see the light of day. To spend time, just laughing at something silly.