“Nope,” she muttered, walking over to the mirror, and turning her flank sideways. There was her cutie mark, that same silly guitar. It still doesn’t have anything to do with who I want to be. “My best guess is… whatever creates them interacted badly with my implants. The, uh… the parts of my insides that are artificial. My bones aren’t supposed to be conductive, but… maybe it reflected a charge or something?” She slumped onto the floor, staring forward at her guitar.