• Published 7th Feb 2014
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Pinkie Personalities - Drebom



Pinkie Pie isn't alone in her head- she has multiple personalities. The three of them have kept this fact secret for a very long time. Now, however, Twilight's overheard them arguing....

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Escape

Tonight was the night. Soon, he would be free. The plan was foolproof, he was thoroughly prepared. All that remained was the execution.
It had taken him years to reach this point. He had been working towards it ever since the moon had remained in the sky that fateful day. When the newspapers had begun talking of a group of mares, he had instantly recognised the element of laughter. How ironic he thought, the most miserable filly he'd ever known becoming the embodiment of laughter. That was, assuming she had resurfaced. He had long since decided that it was far more likely that the more energetic one, 'Surprise', had assumed Ms Pie's identity. He had seen no sign of the original personality after that last experiment, not even all those weeks later at the trial. Who knows, he might have even erased her by accident. Not that it really mattered, of course. It was the brain he was interested in.

Nevertheless, when he had seen her smiling face on the front page, his blood had begun to boil again. How dare she smile, whilst he had been left to rot in this stinking prison!? It was an outrage. He had been so close to a breakthrough. If only he'd had a few more sessions with the little brat. He had easily identified the areas of her brain which were crucial to her ability to form new personalities. Indeed, he had proven that to be the case with the third personality's creation. He had been hoping that her strong negative emotions such as fear would have divulged to form the new personality, but instead he had created some form of protection-driven personality. His mistake had cost him dearly- a fear-based personality would have never gotten him into this situation. A few more sessions and he would have been able to find out where he had gone wrong. See what conditions were needed for specific personality traits to emerge.

It would have been an incredible advancement in the science behind personalities, and the creation of split personalities. He had, of course, artificially created the extreme brain activity via electricity, but that was merely the first step. The next would have been to create a similar response via replication of the circumstances surrounding the creation of 'Surprise'. Something must have happened in her brain to trigger the formation of a split personality, after all. And, clearly, it was repeatable. Of course, that was only in regards to Pinkamena's brain. Its abnormalities obviously contributed greatly to her condition. Another sufferer of DID would have allowed him to cross-reference the details and find common links. From there, reliable treatments would have been easier to create. And that was only the start. Imagine if you could influence the development of specific personality traits in a regular pony? Or any other sentient creature, for that matter. The infamous griffon military would likely pay dearly for the ability to give their soldiers a perfect mind-set for combat. Psychiatric treatment for a range of issues could be enhanced. The possibilities were endless! He would have been a celebrity in the world of psychology, a world-famous pioneer. If only he had a little more time with Pinkamena...

That had been the thought to motivate him. He'd dedicated all of his free time to formulate a plan to escape. He needed to find, or otherwise create a reliable escape route. He needed to stave off discovery for as long as possible. With the regular guard patrols, that meant some kind of trick or diversion. Naturally, the middle of the night would be the ideal time to escape. The darkness would provide excellent cover, and his black coat would blend in excellently.

Tricking the night guard had proven to be almost painfully simple. All it had taken was a crude, improvised form of paper-mache made from newspaper and soap to make a convincing enough model of his head. Furnished with fur scrounged from the prison barber, the likeness was decent enough. In the dark, the guards wouldn't look twice. He had tested the system of course, hiding under his bed and leaving the fake head in his place. His thin frame allowed him to just about squeeze under the bed, and the guard didn't even spare a second glance. This demonstrated not only that the fake head worked, but also that the guards weren't very observant. His coat wasn't exactly the brightest of colours, true, but surely even a foal would notice a hoof sticking out from under a bed? Still, he wasn't about to complain about the effectiveness of the guards. The stupider they were, the better off he would be.

The most arduous part of the plan, of course, had been creating his escape route. He had been forced to slowly carve his way through the cell wall, without the aid of his magic- prolonged telekinesis was not only prevented by the inhibition rings all imprisoned unicorns wore, it was recorded by them. There was no way even the most simple-minded of guards would fail to realise the significance of late-night telekinesis- digging an escape tunnel was unfortunately a classic cliché. No, he had had to use his clumsy hooves (how did Pegasi and Earth Ponies manage?) to dig with a spoon, slowly scraping the cement from around a usefully (and foolishly) placed air vent in the wall. Then, over the course of several night-time excursions, he had mapped out the best route through the ventilation system. He would be able to reach a relatively quiet hallway on the top floor, and from there the roof. Then, he would have to climb down the exterior fire escape, cross the courtyard and scale the perimeter fence- which of course incorporated barbed wire in it's structure. Fortunately, the gloves and small pair of wire cutters he had managed to obtain from the carpentry workshop should prevent most of the potential damage. The only major concern was the spotlights which scanned the grounds at night. Unfortunately, he had no way sure-fire way of avoiding them. He would just have to hope for the best.

Then, of course, there was the issue of where to go. The prison was bordered by the Everfree forest, for crying out loud. The only side that wasn't surrounded by deadly flora and fauna was the single entrance and exit, which was heavily guarded. Equestria's premier prison was a fortress, using the world around it to form an impenetrable defence. You may as well have stuck it on a rock in the middle of the ocean, it would have gotten on just as well. Unfortunately, he had been forced to concede the easiest escape route was over the southern wall, into the heart of the forest. The prison library had enough books for him to have a basic understanding of how to survive inside Everfree, but he was still going to get out of that forest the first chance he got.

With that thought in mind, doctor Neuron Probe settled down to await his opportunity.


He sprinted across the courtyard, cursing his luck. His plan had gone wrong almost instantly. Some fool down the hallway had done something to rile up the guards, mere hours before he had scheduled his own escape to begin. That had meant an increased guard that night, someone checking his cell practically every few minutes. It had destroyed his chances of slipping into his tunnel unnoticed. What was worse, they had started to check the cells in a thorough search that morning. His tunnel would have been discovered, and the last years-worth of labour rendered obsolete. He himself would likely be moved to somewhere with higher security. Out of desperation, he had been forced to take advantage of the guard's momentary distraction by a particularly rowdy inmate, flee into his tunnel, and hope for the best.

The alarm had gone off almost instantly. Now, as he reached the perimeter fence, he could hear the shouts of the guards growing louder.

'They're right behind me!' he realised. He practically threw himself onto the fence and began to climb. There were no second chances here. He wouldn't have another chance to escape. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up to the top of the fence and made a space to climb through the wire barrier with the wire cutters. He roughly pushed the vicious spiked metal aside with a gloved hoof and practically dove through the gap. In his reckless haste, he slammed a hind leg into the barbed wire and screamed out in pain. The pain overwhelmed his mind for a moment, and he fell to the floor outside the prison in a heap. A fresh spike of pain, this time from both of his forelegs. As his daze receded, he struggled to his feet. He didn't seem to have broken anything. He started to half run, half limp towards the forest. There were trees. Trees meant shelter.

He struggled along in pain along the clearest path through the forest he could see. The relentless noise of pursuing guards drove him on. He was running on desperation, adrenaline, and little else. Eventually, lungs heaving and legs burning, he looked around once more, desperate for a decent hiding spot. A large bush was growing a few meters away, dark green with red berries. Hoping that it wasn't poisonous, he practically toppled into it, wincing at the protest of his bleeding leg. A few minutes later, the first group of guards galloped past. In their haste, they had failed to see the blood trail. The next wave of guards still sounded a little way off. However, now the barking of dogs had joined in the din emanating from one of Equestria's few prisons. He couldn't stay here, the dogs would smell him instantly. He had to move. He dragged himself out of the bush, hissing in pain, and slowly headed deeper into the forest, crossing every stream he found to confuse the scent-tracking hounds.

After what seemed like hours of limping through water, doubling back and hiding from search parties, the yells and barks finally faded away, the search now heading in the opposite direction. He knew that he was lost, but that didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was finding shelter. A broad-leaved plant and a vine had allowed him to create a makeshift bandage for his leg. It seemed the wound had finally clotted, because no more blood was seeping out from underneath. He closed his eyes for a moment, and allowed himself to relax. He took some much needed deep breaths.

'I'm free.'

The thought echoed through the stallion's mind. He revelled in the knowledge. The escape hadn't gone as well as planned, but that was irrelevant now. He was free.

He would have to lie low for a while, of course. No point in breaking out if the first thing he did was get himself arrested again. No, he would lie low. Not for too long, though. He had work to do. His hypothesis needed finalising. Investigation. Testing. That would be the hardest part. But then, he already knew where she was. The newspapers had been very helpful with that. Retrieving his little research subject shouldn't be too difficult. He would find her, and prove his theory. This would be ground-breaking, a revelation in the world of psychology. And after he had no more use for her, he would of course take his revenge. It would be slow, he decided. And painful. Just what she deserved.

He opened his eyes. Smiling, the doctor limped on into the dark forest.


Scowling, the prison warden looked over the file of the escaped convict from that morning. First they found some guy was selling drugs during a surprise inspection, and then this. What a morning. What a headache. The search parties had been given the slip in Everfree, and the escapee was now at large.

Neuron Probe, former shrink and psychologist. The guy had apparently been obsessed with one of his patients, and had performed some pretty nasty experiments on her. His eyes widened in horror as he read the details. That poor filly...he frowned. The name was bugging him. He had read it before, he was sure of it...Hmm. In any case, he had sent a bulletin out, and sent a message to the ex-patient's local police force. It was possible that Probe would try to contact his ex-patient...or worse. Revenge was a clear possibility, and a rather likely one at that. Especially considering that this Pinkamena Pie had single-hoofedly destroyed his life, sending him from promising psychologist to hated criminal.

What sort of a name was Pinkamena, anyway? It sounded like a pretty big mouthful. Poor girl must have been teased like crazy at school. If she was anything like his daughter, she would have probably shortened it at some point. Pink Pie? Pinkie Pie? Yeah, that sounde- Oh. OH.

"Oh, horseapples." he swore, and reached for the telephone. He dialled a number, and waited impatiently for somepony to pick up.

"Canterlot guard? I think I've got a national security issue here..."

Author's Note:

The doctor finally has a name! I'm not completely happy with it, but it's the best I could come up with. At least I won't think of Doctor Who every time I mention him now.

I don't know how much of Neuron Probes's ideas/theories are scientifically accurate. I'm guessing not a lot. Sorry if that bothers people, I know that there are plenty who like how accurate I've been to reality so far. To be honest, I don't really know a whole lot about psychology, mainly just little bits and pieces from casual research on DID/MPD. Probe is a bit obsessed with Pinkie and her brain though, so I guess I can say he isn't thinking straight if it proves to be too unrealistic. In any case, he REALLY hates Pinkie, so he's going to want revenge no matter what.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome. Next time: Pinkie gets the bad news.