Post by waxworks on Sept 8, 2013 1:04:25 GMT
With a high pitched, long-standing squeak, the door to Mandolin Gray's humble shack swung open. As sunlight penetrated the dank interior, several dust bunnies leapt joyfully into the sun, them felt ashamed about how dirty the place was, and sunk back into the dirt. A mint colored mare with a health-conscious face-mask on peered into the hazy room, and called out flatly.
"Gray. Are you in there." She trotted in cautiously, looking around. Gray normally lived in the Puppet Theater, but he did his farming in this dank little shack, since mushrooms generally grew better in this sort of condition. It also acted as a sort of private den for when he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, or when he wanted to be alone without his thoughts, and they would wait outside the door for him. Typically, as far as sanctums go, his friends didn't bother him when he was there, but he'd been in his shack for approximately a week, and they were getting worried. When his sister had checked on him the day before, he'd simply said he'd been ill and just needed to sweat it out, and that was that, but of course this meant his diagnostic friend would soon come by to see what was really wrong.
The shack was far from quiet, a blaring noise from a nearby television was coming out in some foreign language Rivet Stitch didn't understand, but the image displaying was a collection of subtitles accompanying a pony racing towards a hilariously low budget hydra (which was clearly another pony wrapped in cardboard), striking a dramatic pose, and growing to tremendous size through means of tiny clay models.
As her eye adjusted to the dark (although it would be many years before anypony's nose would adjust to the smell), she made out the shape of Mandolin Gray slumped on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and sound asleep. Rivet stepped between the TV and couch, peering at Gray. As she turned and switched off the show, a voice cried out.
"Oy! I was watchin' that."
She turned back, as Gray lifted himself up, dust motes tumbling off of him cheerfully. "Manny says you're not feeling well," said Rivet, attempting to furrow her brow in concern. This made for a somewhat fearsome looking expression which caused Gray to sit bolt upright.
"Eh, yeah, just a bit down, I'll be right as rain soon."
Rivet let her face slide back into its disaffected default setting, "you should let me have a look. It could be something serious."
"No no, really, I'm fine, I'm fine."
While it wasn't apparent to anypony watching, Rivet was hesitant to leave. The shack certainly needed more fresh air and sunlight, and a week of whatever it was couldn't possibly be good. "If something is wrong you can tell me. Doctor-patient confidentiality, you know."
"Say that's a ting isn't it," said Gray thoughtfully, "I forgot about that, you're professionally sworn to secrecy right?"
"Yes," said Rivet, thinking she should leave out the fact that it pertained to those who were seeing her in capacity as a doctor.
"Alright, Doc, alright. Ahem." Gray stepped off of the dusty couch and shook himself out a bit. "Could you tell me... what this looks like?"
Rivet blinked her eye. Normally she was very fast but in this case it took a moment for the response to get out. "Your posterior," she said flatly.
"Wh-no, no no, not that, this!"
"Oh, that's your cutie mark."
"Right! Right, but what'sit look like to you?"
She slowly tilted her head back and forth, examining the mark. With a little information about his profession, she hazarded a guess, "an upside-down mushroom."
Gray drooped a bit, smirking. "My dad said it was a shovel. Manny always said it looked like a lollipop. But really... I have no idea what it's supposed to be."
Rivet was surprised, so surprised that she forgot to take the time to force her face into the proper surprised position, and so she looked thoroughly unimpressed. "How can you not know what your cutie mark is."
"That's the ting!" He slumped back on the couch, gesturing towards a memory, "it was my birthday, yeah? Friends, cake, carousing, stayed out all night, it was a blur of festive fun and lovely things, and out I go like a light, and when I wake up, there it is. And I don't remember why."
"Well you're a very good mushroom farmer," said Rivet thoughtfully.
"Pffft. I'm a good mushroom farmer the same way a fish farms water. Oy, look here." He nudged back a curtain to reveal a stunning array of mushrooms of all shapes and sizes. "See that? I haven't done anything. Mushrooms know their business better than I do. Only reason I keep up with this is it pays the bills and lets me do what I want."
"I don't understand," said Riv, examining a particularly tasty looking trumpet mushroom, "what do you want me to do."
The wood-grain pony lifted his friend up by her cheeks with a bit of a shaking gesture, "HELP ME! Help me figure out what this is supposed to mean!"
Rivet blinked, her cheeks smushed up in Gray's hooves. She was blushing a bit internally as she tried to dislodge her head from his grip. As she popped free, she'd already assembled a plan. "We might do well to determine what it could look like in reference to possible jobs and skills."
"Right! Right, but we've gotta keep this hush-hush, patently-confident, right?"
"Patient-confidentiality. But your friends wouldn't care-"
"No no no, this is like telling a friend who you've seen every day for a month that you don't remember their name, it's embarrassing!"
"Then we'll be subtle. Perhaps you could observe some other pony as they go about their business, and see if it triggers any talent."
"That's a plan, that's a PLAN!" Mandolin Gray suddenly seemed infused with energy, as he grabbed a scarf and wound it around his neck, kicking the door of the shack back open, "come on Doc, the hunt is on!"
Rivet's face-mask fluttered in the breeze as it popped off from the force with which Gray dragged her outside, into the sunlight to see what ponies they could find.
"Gray. Are you in there." She trotted in cautiously, looking around. Gray normally lived in the Puppet Theater, but he did his farming in this dank little shack, since mushrooms generally grew better in this sort of condition. It also acted as a sort of private den for when he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, or when he wanted to be alone without his thoughts, and they would wait outside the door for him. Typically, as far as sanctums go, his friends didn't bother him when he was there, but he'd been in his shack for approximately a week, and they were getting worried. When his sister had checked on him the day before, he'd simply said he'd been ill and just needed to sweat it out, and that was that, but of course this meant his diagnostic friend would soon come by to see what was really wrong.
The shack was far from quiet, a blaring noise from a nearby television was coming out in some foreign language Rivet Stitch didn't understand, but the image displaying was a collection of subtitles accompanying a pony racing towards a hilariously low budget hydra (which was clearly another pony wrapped in cardboard), striking a dramatic pose, and growing to tremendous size through means of tiny clay models.
As her eye adjusted to the dark (although it would be many years before anypony's nose would adjust to the smell), she made out the shape of Mandolin Gray slumped on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and sound asleep. Rivet stepped between the TV and couch, peering at Gray. As she turned and switched off the show, a voice cried out.
"Oy! I was watchin' that."
She turned back, as Gray lifted himself up, dust motes tumbling off of him cheerfully. "Manny says you're not feeling well," said Rivet, attempting to furrow her brow in concern. This made for a somewhat fearsome looking expression which caused Gray to sit bolt upright.
"Eh, yeah, just a bit down, I'll be right as rain soon."
Rivet let her face slide back into its disaffected default setting, "you should let me have a look. It could be something serious."
"No no, really, I'm fine, I'm fine."
While it wasn't apparent to anypony watching, Rivet was hesitant to leave. The shack certainly needed more fresh air and sunlight, and a week of whatever it was couldn't possibly be good. "If something is wrong you can tell me. Doctor-patient confidentiality, you know."
"Say that's a ting isn't it," said Gray thoughtfully, "I forgot about that, you're professionally sworn to secrecy right?"
"Yes," said Rivet, thinking she should leave out the fact that it pertained to those who were seeing her in capacity as a doctor.
"Alright, Doc, alright. Ahem." Gray stepped off of the dusty couch and shook himself out a bit. "Could you tell me... what this looks like?"
Rivet blinked her eye. Normally she was very fast but in this case it took a moment for the response to get out. "Your posterior," she said flatly.
"Wh-no, no no, not that, this!"
"Oh, that's your cutie mark."
"Right! Right, but what'sit look like to you?"
She slowly tilted her head back and forth, examining the mark. With a little information about his profession, she hazarded a guess, "an upside-down mushroom."
Gray drooped a bit, smirking. "My dad said it was a shovel. Manny always said it looked like a lollipop. But really... I have no idea what it's supposed to be."
Rivet was surprised, so surprised that she forgot to take the time to force her face into the proper surprised position, and so she looked thoroughly unimpressed. "How can you not know what your cutie mark is."
"That's the ting!" He slumped back on the couch, gesturing towards a memory, "it was my birthday, yeah? Friends, cake, carousing, stayed out all night, it was a blur of festive fun and lovely things, and out I go like a light, and when I wake up, there it is. And I don't remember why."
"Well you're a very good mushroom farmer," said Rivet thoughtfully.
"Pffft. I'm a good mushroom farmer the same way a fish farms water. Oy, look here." He nudged back a curtain to reveal a stunning array of mushrooms of all shapes and sizes. "See that? I haven't done anything. Mushrooms know their business better than I do. Only reason I keep up with this is it pays the bills and lets me do what I want."
"I don't understand," said Riv, examining a particularly tasty looking trumpet mushroom, "what do you want me to do."
The wood-grain pony lifted his friend up by her cheeks with a bit of a shaking gesture, "HELP ME! Help me figure out what this is supposed to mean!"
Rivet blinked, her cheeks smushed up in Gray's hooves. She was blushing a bit internally as she tried to dislodge her head from his grip. As she popped free, she'd already assembled a plan. "We might do well to determine what it could look like in reference to possible jobs and skills."
"Right! Right, but we've gotta keep this hush-hush, patently-confident, right?"
"Patient-confidentiality. But your friends wouldn't care-"
"No no no, this is like telling a friend who you've seen every day for a month that you don't remember their name, it's embarrassing!"
"Then we'll be subtle. Perhaps you could observe some other pony as they go about their business, and see if it triggers any talent."
"That's a plan, that's a PLAN!" Mandolin Gray suddenly seemed infused with energy, as he grabbed a scarf and wound it around his neck, kicking the door of the shack back open, "come on Doc, the hunt is on!"
Rivet's face-mask fluttered in the breeze as it popped off from the force with which Gray dragged her outside, into the sunlight to see what ponies they could find.