Alternate BONUS CHAPTER: Pinkamena Diane Pie
Sunset Shimmer sat Indian-style on her bed in her tiny room, her back against the wall for support, as she picked out a tune on her guitar, Mayfair. It was a melancholy song about a man who lived in a shed. For once, she decided to sing along, a different sensation – she could sing and she could play, but doing both took some getting used to. Still, it helped to pass the time as she waited for her potential friend to show up.
Who was it today? Sunset could not remember.
She winced as a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, still healing from her abortive attempt at self-inflicted death, nearly causing her to drop Mayfair. Of course there were so many dirty clothes piled on the carpeted floor that no harm would have come to her beloved guitar, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Still?” Sunset asked the scars. “They weren’t that deep. No stitches. But I guess quantity can be almost as bad as quality in this case, huh? Or is it psychosomatic? Maybe one of these years I’ll go see a doctor about it… What am I saying? I know I won’t. Just like I’ll probably never go down to the coin laundry and wash this pile of clothes.”
As a precaution, she put Mayfair down in its privileged spot at the foot of the bed next to her overstuffed bookshelf. She contemplated the titles on the lower tiers, wondering if she might want to consider reading. Maybe the one about the rich guy who hosts all the parties yet has no friends, or the one about the guy who goes to space and the ship’s computer tries to kill him. Or the one about…
A sudden knock at the door knocked Sunset out of her daze. It was a fast knock, a few decibels louder than one might consider appropriate, and had a distinct beat to it, as if sounding out the rhythm part of a tune. Of the girls she might consider calling her friends, she knew only one who would knock like that. Quickly she stood up and moved as fast as she could to her apartment’s door – locked for once – but slipped on a dirty shirt and came just two inches from smacking into the frame of her bedroom door.
Once she regained her balance, she stepped into the just-as-tiny living area, fully prepared to sprint the dozen or so steps to the door, when she found her visitor already inside, standing in front of her sofa.
It was a girl with pink skin and darker pink hair that included a front cowlick that seemed to defy physics, all framing big blue eyes. Her ensemble was a perfect complement to her personality, which was a near-perfect incarnation of the concept of ‘bubbly’ – white mini-T with a big heart on the front covered with a blue overshirt, pink skirt (emblazoned with a sewn-on balloon patch) cinched around her waist with a purple ribbon tied in a bow at the back. On her face was plastered a smile so intense it could probably blow up a bridge.
As soon as the girl saw Sunset, she beelined for her, practically leaping as she wrapped her in a massive bear-hug that would have knocked a lesser mortal off her feet. Sunset, for her part, endured the display with an unseen frown and eye-roll, quickly getting over her shock. After about a minute – sixty seconds too long – she began to extricate herself from her visitor.
“Pinkie. How did you get in here?” Sunset asked the intruder as she placed her a foot back.
“Through the door, silly!” Pinkie replied with a giggle.
Sunset stared at her, befuddled, as the security chain on said door was still engaged, as was the deadbolt.
“You know what? No. I’m not even going to ask,” Sunset said as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
She need not have asked, or said much of anything, as Pinkie was more than prepared to do all of the talking.
“I am so so so glad to see you, Sunset!” Pinkie bubbled at a speed and volume both a few ticks on the knob greater than pleasant.
“Uh-huh,” replied Sunset with little conviction as she smacked her upper arms to get the blood flowing again.
Completely undaunted, Pinkie kept going. “Or Sunny. Can I call you Sunny? How are you feeling? Are you still sick? Not sick? Kinda sick? Better? Worse? Same? Lobster?”
“I, uh…?”
“I mean, it’s been so long since you’ve come to school, we were wondering if you were ever coming back! Well, I was wondering if you were ever coming back. Maybe everyone else was too but were just too busy or upset to say anything. Or maybe they weren’t. Well, Rarity sure was! After about a week, she was so worried she was practically beside herself! So I said to both Raritys ‘We should pay Sunset a visit! Check on her! I bet she’ll love that!’ But then I remembered I didn’t know where you live… also there was only one Rarity. That day after school she went to her job at the fashion store place and pulled her store’s files to find your address because you bought a jacket there or something? Did you give it a name? I would! And then she headed out to see you… but of course you already know that since you were here!” Pinkie babbled.
“Pinkie?” Sunset tried to get a word in edgewise. It did not work.
“So anyway,” Pinkie continued without missing a beat, “She skipped school the next day! I don’t know if you knew that! Well, that made us worried that if you were sick with that stomach bug going around that she caught it from you. I almost reconsidered throwing you a Get Well party! BUT, Rarity was back the day after that and told us you just needed time to get better! The other three said that was okay, but I didn’t!”
“Pinkie…” said Sunset in yet another failed interjection.
“Because I’ve dealt with sick people before! After all, I used to volunteer at the pediatric ward in the hospital! The kids loved it, and so did the bosses because they said I’m cheaper than hiring a real clown… but the nurses said I was too much and told me never to come back without taking… what’s that pill? But that’s another story!”
Sunset’s patience was fraying by the second. She tried again: “Pinkie.”
“So you can imagine how over-the-moon I was when Rarity told us at lunch the other day that we could finally come see you!” rambled Pinkie, the words cascading inexorably, like an avalanche. “Now of course I wanted us all to head over first thing after school, because who wouldn’t be cheered up by seeing all her best friends? But, our free times just didn’t match up, and that made me so sad! Rarity said something about you not being able to ‘handle’ all of us at one time… and given how super-duper small this apartment is, she’s got a point! Still, I figured I’d make it my mission to spread enough joy for all of our other friends who can’t be here right now! I even brought a mini version of my confetti cannon! It’s parked right outside, so all I need to do is—”
“Pinkie! Stop!!” Sunset near-screamed, foisting her left hand palm-forward one inch in front of her friend’s face.
This was finally enough to get Pinkie to stop speaking. She contemplated Sunset’s palm, making note of the various lines, wondering if it might be a good idea to reconsider that fortune-telling gig – she did have a >90% success rate the last time she tried. Then her eyes wandered down to Sunset’s wrist, easily visible at that angle even if Sunset had been wearing her jacket. She saw the multiple tracks of raised skin, most parallel but some perpendicular, long thin scabbed lines standing in stark contrast, running down the middle of each.
Pinkie blinked. “Sunset? Did you hurt yourself while cooking?” she asked innocently, though an unpleasant feeling began trying to force its way into her mind.
Sunset vocalized a questioning grunt, then realized where Pinkie’s eyes had focused. After five seconds of a look that practically screamed Oh Crap!!, she lowered her arm and decided to fudge an answer.
“No. It’s nothing. Just…”
“But,” Pinkie interrupted, “Cuts like that can only be made with a blade, and those hurt and can be dirty. I’d hate for you to end up in the hospital over an accident!”
“They… weren’t an accident,” Sunset said, barely audible, no longer willing to look her friend in the eye.
“You mean someone attacked you? Even so, it’s crazy not to see a doctor unless…” Pinkie said before the thoughts poking at her brain breached her upbeat defenses. “…You wanted to hurt yourself,” she correctly concluded, her voice dropping in volume and pitch.
Sunset nodded.
Pinkie’s happy demeanour instantly turned crestfallen. “Why?” she asked in a tone not unlike a cat dunked in a bathtub would use if it could talk.
With a forlorn sigh, Sunset decided to give a direct answer. “Because I didn’t see the point in living anymore. I just… figured the world would be better off without me.”
As Pinkie stared at Sunset with a mix of shock, horror, and sadness, her curly hair began to go progressively limp. Sunset could have sworn she heard a balloon deflating. After less than thirty seconds, Pinkie’s hair had become perfectly straight (incidentally also showing off its incredible length – past her rear). Her normally ever-present smile was completely absent, to the point one would never have been able to tell it had existed in the first place, replaced by a despondent frown. Her eyes were the same baby blue as ever, but seemed to have a different kind of spark behind them than her usual joy and excitement – one of greater intelligence but also much greater sadness. Her lower lip quivered involuntarily.
Pinkie turned away from Sunset and made her way to the nearby sofa, where she sat down on the far end, turned away, fighting back sobs.
Sunset stood in the middle of the room, not sure what to do. Her brain worked feverishly, juggling and judging multiple possible responses. She wondered if this was how Rarity felt that awful afternoon when she encountered Sunset at her lowest.
Cautiously, Sunset approached the sullen girl, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch, leaving a person’s worth of space in between them. “Pinkie, I… I’m… sorry. I didn’t want you to have to see…”
“Did it have to come to that?” Pinkie asked in a tone Sunset had never heard before – noticeably deeper, quieter, and absolutely calm.
“Huh?” This threw Sunset off guard. “What do you mean?”
Pinkie turned to look at Sunset. Her eyes had become bloodshot from the tears still on her cheeks, expression a mix of annoyed disappointment and just plain sad. “Well, I guess I can’t blame you for feeling that way. All that guilt plus the way all the other kids treated you, it makes sense you’d want to take the easy way out.”
“Excuse me,” Sunset interrupted. “Who are you and what have you done with Pinkie Pie?”
“Still,” continued Pinkie, ignoring her, “Even if you don’t value your own life, what about your friends? Did you really think we wouldn’t care?? That we wouldn’t be sad about you being gone?”
“…No,” said Sunset with an air of finality, causing Pinkie to flinch.
“I see,” Pinkie said, despondent. “Guess we failed at friendship, then. What hurts the most, though, is you couldn’t see what was right in front of you. Maybe you still can’t.”
Sunset raised her eyebrows slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Pinkie – or whoever this blob of sadness currently possessing her body was – placed her hands on Sunset’s upper arms, rooting her in place, staring directly at her with those big, sorrowful blue eyes.
“Sunset, you’re a wonderful person,” said Pinkie, her voice wavering. “It may not mean much from me since you’d expect me to say that about anyone, but… I’m serious. You may be the smartest, most interesting person I’ve ever met. I’ve loved getting to know you, learning more about you. Life’s a lot more fun with you around. I’m sure the others feel the same. If you died… your dying… I’d m…”
Unable to finish her sentence, Pinkie collapsed into a bawling mess. Sunset had seen her cry before, but it was usually happy-tears or had a vaguely comical effect. This was different. The girl had lifted her legs onto the couch and sat curled into a ball, her long straight hair draped over her back and the furniture like a brilliant pink shawl or perhaps a fancy cape.
Hesitantly, Sunset eased closer to Pinkie. Once in position, she gently wrapped her arms around the girl.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said softly. “If it means anything, I’m feeling better now.”
Pinkie turned her head to Sunset, which had the effect of making her look like the classic picked-on kid in one of those cartoons. She nodded, making a tiny squeak. “You are?” she asked, clearly unsure if Sunset meant it.
“I am,” Sunset insisted. “Well, I’m not at a hundred percent yet, but these scars are from a couple weeks ago. I don’t think I’ll be doing it again anytime soon. After all, I’ve leaned I’m not alone anymore. Thank you for caring.”
Pinkie smiled warmly. Her hair began to recurl, but stopped before it reached even lightly wavy. She looked to each side of her head, confused, grabbing a lock in her hand as she scrutinized it.
“Something wrong?” Sunset asked, utterly baffled at Pinkie’s behaviour (unusual even by Pinkie standards).
“I guess it’s going to take a little longer than usual to get back to normal,” Pinkie said. Her smile was still there, but thin, and her voice still had a tinge of sadness.
“Usual?” asked Sunset, still unsure of anything. “You mean this… deflation… has happened before?”
Pinkie sighed. “Yeah. You’ve never seen it because I keep it out of public view. It’s my way of coping with negative feelings. A bit less destructive than slitting your wrists, I’d imagine.”
“True,” said Sunset with a snort of disgust at herself.
“Maud says I was sad a lot as a kid, when I still went by my full name. So whenever I get like this, she uses it,” Pinkie casually explained.
“It?”
“My real name: Pinkamena Diane Pie.”
“Ah. Still… I find it hard to believe I’m worth getting so sad over,” Sunset said.
Pinkamena levelled a serious stare at Sunset. “And that is why we’re friends: because you deserve to see the you that I see. I came here because I wanted to tell you we’re planning a ‘Welcome Back To The World’ party as soon as you’re ready. We can host it at the Sugarplum Corner Bakery – since I work there, I can wrangle a big discount. I know you’re not big on get-togethers and like your solitude, but… do you think you could humour us? You might even enjoy yourself.”
Sunset rubbed her chin for a moment in mock-contemplation, causing Pinkamena to shift uncomfortably in her seat, before responding. “I’d be honoured. Just… not too loud, please.”
Pinkamena shrugged. “I understand, but I can’t promise I’ll be able to hold back once I’m the me everyone knows. After all, I’ll be so ecstatic to see you again.”
“I guess I can live with that,” Sunset said as she helped Pinkamena off of the sofa. “So when will this party be?”
“I’ll need at least a week to plan and make arrangements,” said Pinkamena in a businesslike tone Sunset rarely heard from her. “Inquire about everyone’s schedules before setting a time. Of course you’ll need to be emotionally up to it as well, but I’ll assume that’s a given.”
“I guess you’d better get to work then,” Sunset said.
“Exactly,” Pinkamena confirmed, her hair slowly curling as she juggled thoughts and numbers in her head. “I’ve got to go. Will I see you at school tomorrow?”
“Maybe not tomorrow. But within the week, certainly,” Sunset corrected.
“Whenever you’re ready. We’ll be waiting,” Pinkamena said with an understanding smile. Then her eyes went wide as sudden *poof!* sound heralded her hair resuming its standard curly mess. When she spoke again, her voice was back to its usual higher pitch and fast speed. “Okie-dokie-lokie! Oooh, this is gonna be so fun! I can’t wait!! See ya!” Pinkie chirped as a goodbye.
With that, Pinkie bounded out the door and down the hall toward the stairs, making sure to greet the brass umbrella stand next to the busted elevator.
Sunset locked her door and sprawled out on her couch, sighing as if a large weight had been lifted off her shoulders… but only by a couple of inches, meaning its presence was still there but not the pressure. Scratching a phantom itch on her chest, she mulled over the preceding encounter in her head, wondering about the girl who was simultaneously Pinkie Pie yet not. Then a sudden thought occurred to her.
“What the hay did I just agree to?”
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Probably a good thing the other girls don't really have a way of contacting Princess Twilight, unless they stea... borrow Sunset's journal. Twilight would probably read a half gross of mental health books, consult with several doctors and likely Princess Celestia, who would tell her to calm down.
From there my mind just jumps to Celestia meeting with Sunset and acting motherly to her.
A fascinating take on the dichotomy of Pie. Not two separate people, but closer to it than the average person, by quite a ways.
7815667 - Pinkamena is a character concept I love exploring. I'm so happy I finally got to write her into a story, even if it's not "canon" to Sunset's Recovery Arc. Hopefully it worked.
I could write a LOT about Pinkamena and what she is (in fact, I have). But I won't bore anyone with it here.
I liked this chapter way more than the official Pinkie Pie chapter. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing out of character for the Pinkie Pie in that chapter, but it seemed too goofy for such a heavy subject. This chapter actually addressed it directly, which I liked more.
Yeah I actually liked this one a lot more than the original chapter too.
Ditto. I like this pinkamena and this was a great addition to the story. In fact, I wilm see it as Canon even if you don't.
7960745 - As far as I'm concerned at this point, both Pinkie chapters can be canon for "Recovery", as they both successfully touch on different aspects of her personality. If you prefer the Pinkamena chapter -- as many readers seem to -- then by all means accept that one instead.
As to my mythical Pinkamena fic… Trust me, you wouldn't want to see it, at least not now.
I wrote it in 2013 before the Pie family got canon names and personalities (actually back before Maud was even known to exist). After Maud happened, I tried to rewrite parts to mention her, but the differences with the canon got to be too much even for an AU fic and I gave up. Plus, I wasn't 100% sure how to work the climax. And, thanks to Sunset, my interests in MLP shifted elsewhere.
I wouldn't mind posting the occasional explanation and maybe even passages in my blogposts, though.
7960909 - Fair enough. My apologies. If you really want it, you'll get it.
I'm still not going to publish it in story form on the site. That would take way too much reworking -- I wrote instalments in single chunks of over 15k words apiece; 'Mena's backstory alone is nearly 30k -- and I simply don't have the time now with everything else on my plate.
Watch my blog. I promise I will start to reveal things there soon.
Wow, I shouldn't have put off reading this for so long. (Not really intentionally, just kept not getting to it.) I can understand the comments about wanting this to be canon versus the other one, as it's really strong. It would also open up possibilities to write about Sunset and Pinkie together in a way somewhat similar to Sunset and Rarity.
With that said, I still think the original suits the story better for the most part. It allows the focus to stay on Sunset, whereas here Pinkie steals the show and Sunset ends up comforting her instead. Maybe the "ideal" Pinkie chapter would be mostly like the first one, but with her mask slipping a little when she makes her suggestion that it would be silly of Sunset to try killing herself. But I think having both versions present and this one labeled a "bonus" gives you the best of both worlds, as the reader can make their own decision.
I'll also echo the calls for more info about your old Pinkamena story. I know you tend not to use pre-readers, but who knows, maybe having someone take a look at it (with the understanding that it's in a very rough state) would help determine if there's a way to bring it back?
I love PDP as a realistic character (i.e. NOT "Cupcakes" version
), and having her sometimes peek thru when Pinkie's edges start to fray helps prevent Ponk from easily becoming a one-dimensional caricature 
Being a one-dimensional caricature myself, i can appreciate that
Pinkamena Diana pie is really hard to write for. I am having a chapter in a story where pinkie sees Sunset hurts herself and she gets stuck in pinkamena persona because she thinks it's her fault. And I'm struggling to write her. It's a good thing she doesn't show up much in the show. Starlight Glimmer has yet to see that side. Now I would watch that episode.
I liked this one better.
This interation really makes me think if the Pinkie from this chapter, if not from this story universe, is not just putting a front, she really loves her friends and to be with them and everything but she is aways fellings like Sunset but behaving the way she does to not worry her family and friends or even so she can pretend to herself that she is not depressed.
This iteration of Pinkamena is decidedly less... murdery... than the most popular version. I speak, of course, of the Grim Dark Pinkamena Diane Pie and "Cupcakes". It was honestly good to see a dark side to the usually bubbly persona that is Pinkie Pie. If she was one of those perpetually happy preppy kids, I wouldn't like her. No one can be THAT happy all the time. NO ONE. Not even Pinkie.
This is one of the best depictions of Pinkamena I've seen. Though, I can't help but wonder how that physical dichotomy works in a world without magic. Hair is dead, so it can't be purely physiological. Maybe...
Inhale. Exhale. It's Pinkie Pie. Don't question it.
That now-me, then-me, later-me. I know that, like, personally. Mostly, there's
-Dead-Me, who doesn't care (passive is best simple word I can think of to decribe)
-Friend-Me, who only wants to be the best friend physically possible, and constantly fails because of ridiculous self-made demands (happy/humour)
-Past-Me, who gets so caught up in the past, it's all there is (sad)
-Student-Me, who just wants to know, about self, mind, the world, everything (introspective/curious/awkward/anal about correctness except where prefixes and suffixes are concerned)
it's all me, but the mood, or lack there-of in Dead-Me's case, is such a solid state, the transition barely perceived, that I sometimes feel like there's multiple "MEs". I will say that some are frequent, like Friend and Past, and some are rare, like Dead. Student is just everywhere. Maybe that means that Student-Me is the real ME, but how would I know?
They each have their own humour, except Dead.
As Friend, I prefer to tailor my speech to fit my audience, the humour, equally for other's enjoyment
As Past, I'm mostly laughing at myself, putting myself down any way I can
As Student, what humour isn't centered on butching the english language, is about the reactions of others, usually only really funny to me. I've got some nasty/gory/weird/factoid stuff I might choose to say.
Some aspects of Student aren't very nice, as Student couldn't care less about privacy or decency, law or morality. I once stole $300 in books from a library because the check-out limit was 2 books. I would do it again.
Despite all this, there are people in my life who consider me the "nicest person I've ever met".
I'm a depressed, fanfiction-obsessed theif who will manipulate almost anybody to get what she wants. I feel no guilt when I steal, when I lie. I've contemplated most forms of killing, some seriously. I probably need proffessional help, but I won't because I don't want to see the error of my ways. I can't imagie walking into a store and not considering the five-finger-discount. People say that once you're better, you can't understand your former self, and I'm not sure I want that. I don't see how it would do me any good. The waty I feel on it, I'll likely end up in prison either for attempted murder, petty theft, or some form of fraud. Unless I die first, because I don't really practice much safety.
tl;dr I'm a weirdo, if you meet me, I'm either a freak of some kind, or really nice with a low self-esteem.
Good night, it's midnight, and I have classes tomorrow. Sorry this got away from me, but I'm not deleting it because my hand/wrist/forearm is cramping, and I am too stubborn to have nothing to show for it.
You probably will eventually.
Sometimes it's best not to question pinkie pie. She's both crazy and unknown at times.
Great, look what you've done now Sunset.
Huh, didn't know that.
Something that'll make you happy.
I... much prefer this to its preceeding chapter. i like it when pinkie can get serious.