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Post by Mortar Retort on Nov 3, 2011 2:05:13 GMT -5
After the trek into the Everfree and the most unexpected meeting with Mute Mover, the mute and deaf Pegasus, Retort had returned to his humble shop in Canterlot with the mute pony in tow. It was morning now, the sweet, delicious smell of fresh donuts wafting in from down the street at Pony Joe’s was hanging heavy on the air like a delicious treat. Retort left Mute in the front store for a while as he concocted a few elixirs to test on her. Thankfully, the distiller wasn’t acting up today and aside from a few patchy burn marks on the ceiling of the shop, nothing would suggest any trouble that would ensue from ingestion of Retort’s brews.
Of curiosity in Retorts shop were the strange assortment of bottled liquids on meticulously labeled shelves, oddities all manner collected from across Equestria, and a prominent display of what were clearly trophy potions. The shops specialties, as it were. One, in particular, was a swirling pink potion in a expensive crystal decanter. It sat alone, affixed into a wall, and isolated in an enchanted glass lock-box adorned with gems and a single key-hole in the size of a Unicorn horn – likely Retorts very own horn. It was labeled with a simple brass plate that said, ‘#4’, and that is all. It had a prominent place in the shop, yet, how it was locked away, it almost appeared to be a scarlet letter for Retort. Held in the highest honor, yet scorned and loathed all the same.
Long minutes passed as Retort toiled in the back, brewing and concocting all manner of alchemic brews. Thank Celestia that Mute was saved from his curses and frustrations as he failed to get the formals right. A few minor pops, a couple of burns, one untimely blast to the face that burned more than just his fez. Without testing, he couldn’t judge the concentrations and he was forced to use second rate materials for this particular formula. Like margarine instead of butter, it just wasn’t going to turn out right. He really needed to extract components from a green dragon to get the materials he most strongly desired.
Retort reemerged from with several potions wrapped in his telekinetic magic, settling them on the shops counter. He then flipped up a chalk board and single piece of blue chalk and begun to write. “Ok, have a few here.” He wrote in chalk, letting them rest on the black board for a moment before erasing it then writing more. ”Now I can’t guarantee anything.” Erases, ”But, if I’m on the right path, this should enhance the hearing of your typical hearing pony. Not sure if it can help you, but we can try! Nothing ventured, nothing gained!” He was skittish about that statement, however, he corked one of the bottled and slid it over to mute. It smelled faintly of cinnamon and eye of a Newt. ”Chug, wait, then we can begin testing!”
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Post by mutemover on Nov 3, 2011 16:33:39 GMT -5
Hardly able to contain her excitement from the prospect of being able to hear for the first time (it didn't hurt having the potion in her system, either), Mute constantly flew loops and spirals around Retort as the two trotted to Canterlot.
Around the time that they arrived, Mute felt the energy from the potion beginning to empty out of her system, and the lack of rest from the previous night was getting to her. When at last the two entered The Mane Ingredient, Mute stumbled into the nearest corner and dropped her svelte saddlebags unceremoniously onto the ground. She quickly followed, using them as a pillow while she napped. So sound was her sleep that the few bangs and explosions didn't wake her at all.
After Retort had emerged from the back room, Mute blearily opened an eye. With a tired nicker, the gold-yellow mare got up from her rest and trotted over to the counter where Retort and the potions were. Taking out her notepad, she began writing.
"Mind if I grab a cup of coffee really quick? Pony Joe's is right next door."
Sliding the paper across the counter to the stallion, Mute sank to her haunches, rubbing her eyes to get the sleep out.
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Post by Mortar Retort on Nov 3, 2011 17:13:51 GMT -5
Retort took the note, read it quietly to himself, then glanced at the extremely sleepy Mute. Perhaps he had been dragging her along a tad, unaware of the waxing sleepiness that had taken root after the rejuvenation potion had taken run its course – it’s crash. But he was just so excited to get these trail runs of his new formulas that it was fueling his energy, not that he ever slept much to begin with. He scribbled onto the pad.
”Be my guest. Gives me more time to concoct another one!” He wrote, slipping to back over the Mute. He recorked the one open potion, just slightly skirting back from it as he did. Mindful of an earlier batch that had a certain hostility to being replugged, not that this batch was that volatile. He then stepped over to cash register, tapped a few of its keys with his horn (though it looked like he was banging his head against it), and when the tray popped open he floated out 5 bits and gave them to Mute. Plenty for a cup of coffee or two. ”Here, little token for assisting. Enjoy!” He spoke, looking to her so she may see his lips move.
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Post by mutemover on Nov 3, 2011 17:34:34 GMT -5
Mute thought she saw Retort flinch a little when he adjusted one of the potions. What would have normally raised a red flag in her mind was kept at a distance by her exhaustion.
Gratefully accepted the bits after she'd read the pad, she smiled warmly at the stallion. The mime wasn't exactly the wealthiest pony around, for obvious reasons.
With the bits in hoof, Mute trotted over to Pony Joe's, purchased two cups of strong black coffee, and sat down in the cafe, sipping the first one quickly. After she'd finished, she flew slowly back to the Mane Ingredient, sat down in 'her corner', and nursed the second cup of coffee until the next potion was ready.
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Post by Mortar Retort on Nov 4, 2011 18:28:32 GMT -5
Retort was once again hard at work combining a few raw ingredients in a mortar, grinding away with the pestle with his magic, while his mouth was occupied writing down the recipe. He glanced up as Mute returned to the shop and immediately his eyes lit up. He jotted down a few words in the margin of his recipe book.
"Welcome back. Feeling better? Ready to hear?" He wrote, then levitating the book over to her so she may read. He then brought up the potions from before, setting them on counter.
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Post by mutemover on Nov 4, 2011 20:47:05 GMT -5
Feeling the coffee perking her up, the mute was psyched for some experimentation. Without bothering to write a response, she grabbed the nearest potion with a hoof and downed it in two quick gulps.
A second or two passed before she planted a hoof in her face. Mute picked up the pad and scribbled quickly.
"Was I supposed to do that?"
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Post by Mortar Retort on Nov 7, 2011 15:02:35 GMT -5
Retorts expression, teeth gritted and mane standing stiff would suggest that he perhaps was apprehensive at what reactions could come with the consumption of said potion. Thank Celestia, she had grabbed a correct one. Even more thankful, she didn’t explode – twice. He wrote on the chalk board he had beside him, so she may see.
”The face hoofing is just a side effect of the cider base. Nothing to worry about, unless you’re a recovering ciderholic – you’re not, are you? OK, now we give it a few moments to circulate then we begin the first phase of testing.”
Waiting, waiting, then Retort brought out a series of various items from behind the counter, lifting them with his magic and placing them in a row on the counter beside the remaining potions. There were symbols, a whistle, bullhorn, and ear plugs – for himself. He erased the chalkboard, then begun writing another statement.
”Going to test a series of loud noises, tell me if you hear anything – likely be a drawn out ringing of some sort.” He realized that she may have no base to know what ringing would sound like. ”Just tap a hoof when you notice something unusual, then describe however best you can what you experienced. Let’s begin.”
He jammed the plugs into his ears and trotted over beside her with the whistle in his mouth. He fiddled with it at first, then once properly adjusted, took a very deep breath. He held it for a moment then blew with all his might close to Mute’s head. Anyone outside and the neighboring shops would be able to hear the piercing din it was so terribly obnoxiously loud. The window’s reverberate, the potions and volatile mixtures in bottles chime and the distiller in the back makes an uncharacteristic pop from the sound of the whistle.
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Post by mutemover on Nov 7, 2011 16:45:17 GMT -5
Mute sighed in relief, glad that she hadn't done something suicidal on an impulse. She was just so excited to finally be able to hear something! ...At least, she hoped. She still felt kind of bad for giving Retort what seemed like a half-hearted heart attack.
Mute waited patiently as she felt the potion seep into her veins. Everything seemed pretty normal, nothing out of the ordinary. The alchemist pulled out a few instruments that Mute recognized as capable of making other ponies cringe; she assumed they made some kind of sound.
Retort was coming over towards her with one of the smallest of the objects when things started to get weird. She could feel his hoofsteps keenly, her senses picking up slighter and slighter vibrations. She could feel the miniscule convection air current moving over her fur, and in comparison the blue stallion's hoofsteps were like shouts.
Mute was about to speak up when there was an incredibly sharp vibration, causing her to flinch. She felt the air vibrating against her in a rhythm with the blowing of the instrument; it felt like rubbing her hooves against sandpaper.
She wrote down on the pad after Retort had finished, detailing what she'd experienced with the vibrations.
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Post by Mortar Retort on Nov 7, 2011 20:14:45 GMT -5
Retort took note of Mute’s observations, plopping down on his haunches and rubbed his chin with his hoof, contemplating possible reason as to why it was manifesting in such a manner. He erased the chalkboard and wrote.
”Vibrations, nothing strange in your ears though? Could you always detect vibrations?”
While he let Mute respond to the question, he began writing the results down, quickly jotting notes as to possible changes in the recipe – but this itself could prove just as valuable. More testing will have to be done later. He prepped the next test, the cymbals. He wrote more on the chalk board, then floated the cymbals over.
”Different type of sound now, percussion. See what this does. Note the vibrations and anything entirely new. It’s clearly doing something, just may be taking longer than I anticipated.”
He slammed the two brass cymbals together, letting their resonating slam wash through the room. Behind the counter a green bottle filled with some sort of concoction bounces as the stopper rises off and falls away as several little bubbles floated out.
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Post by puckbuckworth on Nov 7, 2011 20:19:37 GMT -5
"RETORT!" Came the scream from the courtyard at the sound of the racket. "RETORT!" The voice repeated, opening the front door of the shop amplifying the noise outside for a moment before the door shut behind them. The noise came to a halt, but with his ears ringing the diminuitive writer-pony known as Puck Buckworth gave a couple more shouts. "RETORT! RE-TOOORT! RETORT!"
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Post by mutemover on Nov 10, 2011 21:47:29 GMT -5
Writing on the pad, Mute explained; there was an odd sensation of feeling keenly every minute change in the position of the pencil in her mouth.
"Well, I could always feel vibrations to an extent, yes. It's how I listen to music. I've just never felt anything this clearly.
Then, another set of sharp vibrations, although this one much less than the whistle. This one lasted much longer, and was more 'resonant', however that term might be applied to the sense of touch. Not only could she feel it through the air, Mute could even feel the tiny pulsing that went from the cymbals, through his body, into the floor, and then to her hooves. It was astounding, so much so that her head was starting to clog up from all of the sensory information flowing in. With a groan (at least, the mute pony's equivalent thereof) the yellow pegasus sank to her haunches, nursing her throbbing head.
As if to make things worse somepony burst through the door shouting, sending wave upon wave of vibrations into Mute's body. Struggling to process all of the information, she collapsed in a heap on the ground, her eyes crossed in a daze.
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Post by Mortar Retort on Nov 11, 2011 2:16:54 GMT -5
Retort observed, watching as Mute reacted to the intense resonating reverberation of the cymbals. He took notes in his private journal, scratching away with the pencil in his mouth, balancing the book on his hoof. How did earth ponies do this, he wondered. He scoffed it, the poor fools. Though they were fine craftsmen. He begun to feel conflicted, musing over the earth-unicorn relations. He hardly noticed as the sensations overtook Mute, so wrapped up in his thoughts.
Then came the rousing calls, shaking his head back into reality, he looked back to see the pony that just bust into his store. He dropped the cymbals, they making a horrible din as they struck the wood floor.
”No foals- Oh! Puck! How excellent of you to join us. I’m testing out my latest creation.” He gestured to Mute, who laid on the ground dazed. ”Not the pony, uh, what she drank- You ok Mute?” He nudge her with a hoof. ”Ah she’s fine!” He got back on his hooves and walked back over to the counter, taking the cymbals with him.
”Buckworth, this is Mute Mover. Met her last night in the Everfree forest – mistook her for a new kind of pony. Anyway, she’s both mute and deaf, but I’m trying to change that! Have this new brew, hoping it can help get even some of her hearing back…” A glance back to Mute causes Retort to furl his brow questioningly, ”It’s a work in progress.”
He scratched out a few sentences on the chalk board for Mute to read when she recovered. ”This pony is Puck Buckworth, local writer and scribe -->” Arrow included, ”He’s a friendly enough pony, little nosey, but can’t fault him for being inquisitive! Anyway, what happened with that last round? Bit much? How much more intense from the last round? 1-10. 1 being less, 5 being the same, and 10 as ‘OH MY CELESTIA!’”
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Post by puckbuckworth on Nov 11, 2011 4:04:53 GMT -5
Puck narrowed his eyes. "there beith no inquisition as to why I entered. It didn't seem as though thou was helping a young filly, it was as though thou was trying to wake the dead! I have thy little experiment to thankist for this!" He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a parchment with paragraphs of eloquent writing, as well as a long spotty jagged line which puck apparently drew when Retort started banging cymbals together. "I should have mine brothers throw thee in the brig for disturbing the peace."
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Post by mutemover on Nov 11, 2011 19:00:30 GMT -5
The back-log of sensory information shrank slowly, draining through Mute's brain and creating an incredibly odd time-lag between her vision and the vibrations. The effects of the vibration-sensing potion began to diminish, easing the burden on her senses. Finally able to make sense of things, Mute got up off the floor, shook her wings of dust, and took stock of the situation. She hadn't been out for long, she concluded, as nothing much had changed. There was another pony in the room, a colt, it seemed, and he was named Puck. Interesting. She took the pad and wrote; "It wasn't as intense as the last round, probably a 4, but there was just so much more of it that I... I couldn't handle it all, I guess. It's fading a bit, now, so I don't think I'll have to worry about it again.
And, hello there, Puck! It's nice to meet you!"
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Post by puckbuckworth on Nov 13, 2011 19:24:13 GMT -5
Puck looked drolly at the filly, gibing a half smile. He took the chalk between his theeth and wrote a simple "Hi."
He then leaned in the direction of Retort and said. "Perhaps it should be in all our best interests that you may make an alteration in thy experiment...Mayhaps you could...test to see what is the quietest, most acute noise that your friend can hear...."
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