//------------------------------// // Contemplation // Story: Introspection // by -Hidden Identity- //------------------------------// The next several moments were filled in the ecstasy of control. Control over her mind, and the regained ability to walk up virtually any surface regardless of which way was “up” to her at the current moment. Here, Pinkie thrived. Thrived in her joyous spirit, that had also seemed to return upon the completion of her last challenge. Her sisters had been redeemed in her mind, and freed her from regret and inner pain. While Pinkie could not help but celebrate her circumstance, it was also a time of thought. She now had grasped a slightly better understanding of what her family was agitated at her for. One sister was upset because Pinkie had left, and her sister took it rather personally, and the other had been mad because all Pinkie did when it came to sharing time was party. Her sister didn’t want to party, she wanted…well Pinkie actually never asked what she wanted to do. That would most likely come back around at some point, but when it did she would be ready to embrace it in a loving manner that would end peacefully and with shared happiness. Hopefully. From the surface of a vertical, grassy cliff, she lay down and pondered about what to do next. The maze had been straightforward, in a really non-straightforward type of way, and had led her here. Surely there must be a sign of some sort, but there wasn’t and her name wasn’t Shirley. It was Pinkie, Pinkie Pie for short. The name her friends called her, and she responded to. That was the other thing, why hadn’t her friends heard her? For that matter, how could she hear them? It made some amount of sense that immediate outside influences could make a direct impact, perhaps even an auditory one. A cupcake had conveniently appeared in front of her. It was small, round, covered in pink frosting, and had small pieces of what looked to be peppermint but more likely tasted like butterscotch. Pinkie sniffed the small cake. It smelled like spring rain. Another one, this time blue, appeared next to the pink one. It was a bit flatter than the other, and consisted of heavier bread than the light, fluffy bread of the pink one. The rims of each crest of blue frosting were capped in a soft caramel and this one smelled of apple cider. It was no surprise, although she had left it up to chance. “Where am I, Dashie?” she asked the cupcake. “What makes you scared?” Rainbow Dash wasn’t frightened easily, and there were few places in Equestria that could scare the resistant Pegasus. That number shrunk once she took into account whether the blue pony would ever even get near them. Ok...add one, Rainbow had been to the spa at least once. Ever voice that wafted towards her during her path through Dusk she had recognized, save one: the odd voice her friends consulted. The one who talked about “the events of last week” and other random things. They said she was random? Last week had been fine, thanks. What had she done last week? Hmm…that was a mystery for another time. Actually, no it wasn’t. Last week she hadn’t done much of anything important. Several days she helped out the cakes, had laughs with her friends, watched Twilight work some new magic, helped Fluttershy with feeding the animals, and stayed out of Applejack’s way while they worked on their silo. Yeah, that stallion, whoever it was, didn’t know what he was talking about. “Even so…what were they talking to him about anyway? Giving medicine and Dashie was saying something about helping me out.” She glanced at the blue cupcake. “What if they’ve replaced me? Oh, I’ve been in here too long and now I’ve lost them as friends? They’ve found some other pony to host their parties and make them laugh. I wasn’t fast enough.” Pinkie already knew being sad wasn’t an option here, but eating was. She munched down the blue cupcake and thought about her friends. Had they really abandoned her that soon? Maybe time moved differently here. Perhaps she had been out for months, or even years. Perhaps they had simply moved on with their lives. “Why would they visit me? Or talk about me if I wasn’t important to them anymore?” She pondered aloud. The warm air comforted her and a sweet-smelling breeze tickled her senses. “Unless…they want to remember me. What if…I’m dead?” The other cupcake was left uneaten as Pinkie walked towards the sheer face of grass in front of her; she crossed onto it and stepped on some sort of pastry, but paid it no heed. Was she dead? How else could she be within her own mind? Why would that scare Rainbow, though? Rainbow may be sad at her untimely demise, by whatever means, but it would scare her. Unless… “Maybe I’m in one of those places where ponies go before they are about to be buried…oh, what’s it called…a museum! No, not a museum…monastery? I bet Twilight could tell me. Either way, I hope they found my will in Sugarcube Corner. I plainly stated that I was to be turned into a delicious batter and served to my friends so I could be with them forever. On second though, I hope they don’t find that. I hope I don’t find whatever possessed me to make that my will here in my mind. Maybe just bury me somewhere where I can see the sunrise. That sounds good. But how will they know to do that? Surely they know me well enough that they wouldn’t actually eat me. Would they?” Upon the realization that Pinkie may actually be, in fact, rather dead, it dawned on her that she no longer had to hurry through her mind. It was, all things considered, not too shabby a place to be. Spend eternity eating cupcakes and candy while she played on upside-down hills and platforms. Maybe she could find Rocky again, or find the nicer versions of her family once she had freed them all. That seemed like a good plan. “But what if I’m not fully dead yet?” Pinkie scrunched her forehead and released. This felt good, and was repeated several more times. “What if I’m just partially dead and they are trying to get me back? They really are good friends.” Partially dead, with the chance of somehow reviving, this was a good plan as far as Pinkie was concerned. True, she had no proof of anything yet, but when was proof needed anyways? “By looking for clues?” The memory of Twilight’s voice came forth in her mind. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Twilight. I should have some sort of proof.” “Proof of what, Pinkie.” Pinkie’s view shot left, from where the voice had come. “Mom.”