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Description

The examination room was a simple space that fit her predictions closely: tiled floors, cabinets along the walls, and a gaggle of staff in clean uniforms. Doctor Rose, Nurse Ratchet, and two other nurses she didn’t know glanced up as Twilight entered, regarding her like something between a lunatic and a child. Twilight did her best to ignore them as her eyes were drawn to the large piece of furniture that squatted in the middle of the room. Planted between two rectangular towers of chrome was a hybrid of table and bed that looked incapable of doing the job of either. The padded examination table was bolted to a silver pillar and barely reached up to Twilight’s elbows – though the pedals around the base made it clear it was meant to change height as needed. Straps dangled down from the edges like the legs of some grotesque spider. She winced. The arachnid metaphors aren’t helping.

Twilight blinked, her face slowly contorting into a look of worry. “Is it gonna hurt?” she asked, licking her lips.

“No, it won’t hurt. You’re just going to feel a faint tingling sensation at the base of your horn.”

“Oh.” Twilight tried to nod, but the strap on her head kept her firmly in place. “That’s fine, then.”

“While she is doing that, I’ll be using my magic to examine how the electricity moves as well,” he said as he stepped back out of sight. “If you feel a slight pressure inside your head, that’s to be expected. We’re gonna ask you a few questions during our exam, so just answer us the best you can, okay?”

“Okay,” Twilight replied after a slight pause. It was worrying, the idea of having another pony looking inside her head, even if it was just to see how the magic moves down through her horn. Still, like a storm on the horizon, she couldn’t bring herself to really get upset about it.

There was a faint electric hum from just behind her head. “Now Twi, you’re gonna feel a tingling sensation, but it’s perfectly normal,” Applejack said from the same direction as the hum. “So just relax and we’ll get this over with as soon as we can.”

The hum grew louder. It sounded angry but muffled, like an agitated beehive on the other side of a wall. “Alright Twi. On the count of three. One… two… three.”

Twilight didn’t feel any tingling; it felt like cold lightning was drilling down into her forehead, a sensation that almost demanded to be painful, but somehow wasn’t. Twilight winced anyway. “Mmnn… that doesn’t feel very good,” she mumbled, her vision growing blurry.

“Don’t worry, sugarplum, you’ll feel better in a moment,” Applejack stated, her warm voice sliding over Twilight’s discomfort like a soothing blanket.

“Okay,” Twilight said again, her voice soft and tainted by her nervous disquiet. “I trust you, Applejack.”

If Applejack replied to her, Twilight didn’t hear it. The angry buzzing had been joined by the click-clack of the towering machines to either side of Twilight as they began to print out long streams of stuttering paper like overactive seismographs. Jagged mountains of black ink covered the spools of paper, documenting something indecipherable about Twilight’s mind.

Doctor Rose’s face appeared in Twilight’s field of vision as if by magic, his horn aglow with his own spellcasting efforts. As he had warned, she could feel a slight pressure inside her mind, as if someone were gently prodding her brain with an invisible hoof, but that didn’t seem truly accurate. It was alien and hard to define; less a physical sensation than a mental one, more akin to the thought of a hoof pressing against her brain than anything.

She felt the pressure shift a little as he glanced down at her. Floating in front of him were a clipboard and pen, although they were turned so she couldn’t see what he was writing. It felt really unfair, and Twilight frowned.

Description

The examination room was a simple space that fit her predictions closely: tiled floors, cabinets along the walls, and a gaggle of staff in clean uniforms. Doctor Rose, Nurse Ratchet, and two other nurses she didn’t know glanced up as Twilight entered, regarding her like something between a lunatic and a child. Twilight did her best to ignore them as her eyes were drawn to the large piece of furniture that squatted in the middle of the room. Planted between two rectangular towers of chrome was a hybrid of table and bed that looked incapable of doing the job of either. The padded examination table was bolted to a silver pillar and barely reached up to Twilight’s elbows – though the pedals around the base made it clear it was meant to change height as needed. Straps dangled down from the edges like the legs of some grotesque spider. She winced. The arachnid metaphors aren’t helping.

Twilight blinked, her face slowly contorting into a look of worry. “Is it gonna hurt?” she asked, licking her lips.

“No, it won’t hurt. You’re just going to feel a faint tingling sensation at the base of your horn.”

“Oh.” Twilight tried to nod, but the strap on her head kept her firmly in place. “That’s fine, then.”

“While she is doing that, I’ll be using my magic to examine how the electricity moves as well,” he said as he stepped back out of sight. “If you feel a slight pressure inside your head, that’s to be expected. We’re gonna ask you a few questions during our exam, so just answer us the best you can, okay?”

“Okay,” Twilight replied after a slight pause. It was worrying, the idea of having another pony looking inside her head, even if it was just to see how the magic moves down through her horn. Still, like a storm on the horizon, she couldn’t bring herself to really get upset about it.

There was a faint electric hum from just behind her head. “Now Twi, you’re gonna feel a tingling sensation, but it’s perfectly normal,” Applejack said from the same direction as the hum. “So just relax and we’ll get this over with as soon as we can.”

The hum grew louder. It sounded angry but muffled, like an agitated beehive on the other side of a wall. “Alright Twi. On the count of three. One… two… three.”

Twilight didn’t feel any tingling; it felt like cold lightning was drilling down into her forehead, a sensation that almost demanded to be painful, but somehow wasn’t. Twilight winced anyway. “Mmnn… that doesn’t feel very good,” she mumbled, her vision growing blurry.

“Don’t worry, sugarplum, you’ll feel better in a moment,” Applejack stated, her warm voice sliding over Twilight’s discomfort like a soothing blanket.

“Okay,” Twilight said again, her voice soft and tainted by her nervous disquiet. “I trust you, Applejack.”

If Applejack replied to her, Twilight didn’t hear it. The angry buzzing had been joined by the click-clack of the towering machines to either side of Twilight as they began to print out long streams of stuttering paper like overactive seismographs. Jagged mountains of black ink covered the spools of paper, documenting something indecipherable about Twilight’s mind.

Doctor Rose’s face appeared in Twilight’s field of vision as if by magic, his horn aglow with his own spellcasting efforts. As he had warned, she could feel a slight pressure inside her mind, as if someone were gently prodding her brain with an invisible hoof, but that didn’t seem truly accurate. It was alien and hard to define; less a physical sensation than a mental one, more akin to the thought of a hoof pressing against her brain than anything.

She felt the pressure shift a little as he glanced down at her. Floating in front of him were a clipboard and pen, although they were turned so she couldn’t see what he was writing. It felt really unfair, and Twilight frowned.