Concrete Flowers, Blossom of Despair (EoLPinkie, Sulvuss)

[Guest EoLPinkie]

“Click”

“Click, Click”

“Click, Click, Click”

A sound rang out in the atmosphere, it was small and tiny but in the fact that there was no other noises in the air to compete with it made that one brief fraction of a metallic click ring out with a definite outstanding sense to it even when the slight sliding sway of a timid breeze hushed into the room with a barely hearable pitch, standing on the verge of none existences so small of a hush it swam below the volume of the clicks that would show up in what seemed to be rapid paces in an ambience setting. As time went on the clicks would stop, pause and slow down before picking up again, having no real pattern to it or at least no pattern to it at this moment in time. The clicks were not natural, they had a strong tap to its weight that gave way to the obvious fact that something solid was colliding with something else. The clicks started again, commencing a few times as the a weak glow warped around a white G that was printed onto a cubic button, made out of a bronze like material although it lacked as much glow, pointing to maybe a polished copper, more buttons like this flurry together in a organized fashion, lined together the same way a football crowd would be in their seats, each of the buttons having a alphabet letter on it and then ending with grammar and punctuation signs. The base for this device was completely black and in all honesty, it would be understandable if someone found this heavy, especially since it was roughly the size of a ponies mid body although it obvious materials of lead and metal made it far more burdensome than most stallions or mares torso. The type writer, which is what this device was had the small encryption of “Harold” plastered at the base on its front, all aligned in bold Ariel and rather shiny silver text while the rest of the metal that held the paper would shift as a small mechanical paw would slap the letters on at the command of the buttons, each of them lighting up randomly to form words on the paper in a purple manner.

The only other thing match the glow in that room was a long tip of a horn that erupted from the skull of a totally white pony that had a hat half of its size sitting behind the horn and thus so the red cross was printed differently, having two small red crosses beside the horns position rather than having one big one would be obscured due to the ponies biology. The mane underneath it was naturally somewhat suppressed by the ponies head ware and the fact that she clearly had a noggin of lush and full of unbridled, untamable hair that expanded out a a great like a hill that quickly swirled down across her back,even going over the ponies ears at the beginning and cheeks, all the while remaining a fire rugby like red that retained a strong sense of life and color to it all.

The pony body, well, she was a good few inches below even a mare and perhaps entering her older years, baring a few wrinkles under her eyes and even her two set of yellow orbs seemed to be getting a little more shut but she had a few more birthdays to go before she could be called cosmetically unappealing due to age. She simply stuck those eyes on the paper that shifted with the pattern of the taps, paying no attention to what was going on while working away behind a chest high hole in the wall that also reached out like a desk, the wall itself leading around another six feet while a sheet of glass hang over I with nothing but a tiny rectangle opening at the bottom presented for guest. The door to the inside of the room was at the four foot width that was at the side pointing towards deeper to the asylum while the inside of the room she was in seemed to contain nothing but her and a lot of paper work....oh..and some coffee.

The rest of the room was pretty atypical of a waiting room that was governed in any sort, it had a very old feel to it all, the marble floor was nicely kept clean and look polished not too long ago which was colored in a very restrained yet refined oak like brown that merged with a sandy texture to it all while black lines the size of a ponies hoove went across in diamond shapes, making a criss cross along the floors. The walls were pale white, kind, boring, un-stimulating but at least the the walls were clean and clear that the asylum was built not too long ago. The room was mostly empty apart from two flights of stairs made from a deep, dark brown wood that was shinning just a little like the furniture or structure was showing off a set of bright teeth as it smiled to all the new visitors and that what the feeling really got across from, sure it was boring and there was little to keep you entertained but all of it was clean and new, so it seemed relatively young and ready to take on the world. The only really out standing aspects to this whole room was the four chairs connected together sofas, all of them green cushions with the same dark brown wooden polish support beams and backs to them, keeping the structures all together and a small tea table Filled with a few rather boring magazines “Equestrian Daily: Hot topic, Trixie,remarks that she'll do better in Talent in great canterlot” like last year “Interview with the keepers of the discord statue and the ghost stories involving it” yawn “Your hair and you with a guest column by photo finish” Boring, out of date and seemingly out of place for an asylum. Apart from all of this, the only other thing worth mentioning was the room it self was diamond shaped and was roughly about the size of a foot ball field, making everything echo a bit, there were no windows, just a series of chandlers hanging from the ceiling that were glowing with a magical essence, keeping everything well lit and a matching brown twin door twice the size of any pony that lead to the exit hall.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Winter Iris paused before entering the sprawling complex that lay before her, her violet eyes roaming over the massive buildings. The Ponyville Asylum, a place where the sick could come to be well again. Where nightmares were banished, fears were dispelled, confidence was restored. A chill breeze ruffled through the mare's intricately-styled mane. If this was a sanctuary of healing, why did she feel so reluctant to push open the doors and step inside?

The earth pony shook her head, her argent curls fluttering delicately from the movement. She was being silly. This was Ponyville, after all. One of the nicest smaller towns she'd ever been to. How could she even begin to believe for one second that dread awaited her inside? There were only doctors and sick ponies. With a smile, she pushed against the heavy oaken doors and stepped into the lobby.

"My," Winter murmured, slightly in awe by the sheer size of the room she now stood in. "I must have gotten here before rush hour."

She began the short walk to the check-in desk, her hoof-falls echoing off off the floor and walls. The mare behind the glass looked innocent enough, typing away in her typical white and red garb. Winter smiled as she came to a stop at the lip of the desk, nodding politely at the nurse.

"Good afternoon!" she said in a cheerful voice. "My name is Winter Iris, I'm here to check in for my appointment in a quarter hour?"

The artist didn't receive a response further than a clipboard and several forms sliding under the gap between the glass and the desktop. Without faltering, Winter thanked the other mare and trotted over to one of the conjoined chair-couches to complete her paperwork. The scratching of her quill entwined with the tapping of the typewriter, forming a soft cacophony that reverberated through the otherwise empty room. It was disquieting, but Winter Iris ignored it. If the doctor here could help her, it would be well worth enduring a few moments of ill-founded discomfort.

[Guest EoLPinkie]

Sulvie's post!

The air had definitely grown far less silent or at least within arua did it have a more lively breeze to it all now that the single mare had now been doubled with another living being to accompany her in such a large and daunting room, although even with a segment of space now filled with a set of hooves it still hardly compared to the hall in all its vast space and its restrained but refined persona, even great imposing stature. The walls were as always being still but beating off the repeat of sounds that entered, making her steps let off a small clap that had lingered in the distances before falling off the cliff of none existences as she sat down. The taps, the sketching of ink and the soft hiss of magic being used to levitate and press objects by the mare was all hearable, the only thing not audible was the ponies breaths, but one could lay that down to the fact that there was good five or so metres between the two beings now that Winter had taken root upon one of the many Siamese styled trio of chairs. Taps, brushes and scratch of paper, the small movement that resulted in a hoof meeting the ground in anyway was the only sound and comfort offered to either of the girls that were both guest and host in this building, it was hardly social but then again what could one expect where the only two people were there and at such a space apart.

Seconds ticked, yes they ticked. One could not see it, or rather Iris could not see it but there was a distinct ticking sound added to these normally discarded sounds, there was a clock somewhere that joined in a rhythm, acting as a base to the taps and scratching of the feather. It took its time though, it was for sure not moving any faster for the convenience of the waiting pony that a given. Just carrying along its way, unseen but still known.

Tick, tock. Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.

The mare for a brief moment stopped, her glow ceasing from her horn as she looked directly at the type writer before her, it allowed for a moment that was closer to silence than ever. Her white mane slightly bathed in a shallow grey for the tiniest moment as she slowly inched her right hoove to a set of green papers with writing and lines one could not make out from this far, she seemed interested for a moment before slowly twisting her neck, brushing her hair out of the way as she did so to gaze up at something behind the wall in her office. And she looked, she did not lay one glance at Winter Iris between all of this, she simply went along her duties instead of getting distracted and even now as she looked at that invisible clock she only turned back to look at the sheet of paper in front of her before letting a small “fizz” appear as she let the taps continue. Carrying on with her work.

Tick, Tock.

Tick, Tock.

Tick, tock.

[Guest EoLPinkie]

Winter continued to fill out her forms, slightly put out by the receptionist's lack of response but rationalizing it in her mind. This was an asylum. She probably saw so many ponies in sad, miserable states that she had needed to shut herself away, remove herself from the equation so she didn't become depressed. At least, the mare hoped that was the reason. Otherwise she was just rude.

The artist manipulated her quill expertly between her lips and teeth, having practiced long and hard on the art of calligraphy. It was notably harder for earth ponies and pegasi than unicorns, but it wasn't impossible. Thankfully she didn't have much of a prior medical history to fill out because the precise writing did get tiring.

As she wrote, Winter began to realize just how quiet this place was. There was no one else visible aside from her and the pony behind the desk, there had been no pony outside, and she hadn't seen any patients in or near any of the buildings she'd passed on the way in. The performer's eyes snapped upward when the receptionist stopped typing, re-adjusted her hair, and seemed to look at something further back in the office that Winter couldn't see from where she was sitting. Maybe it was a doctor? Surely they would be a little more talkative.

Standing, the earth pony gathered her forms and quill in her teeth and trotted over to the desk once more. Click click click click went her hooves.

"Here you are!" she said cheerfully, setting the papers down in front of her silent companion. "Will the doctor be able to see me on time? I do hope you're not too busy," she added with a small attempt at a joke, the echo of the massive and empty room dimming her smile just a tad.