Day Two: Showtime
No, I'm not using the author's note box, dun like it.
As always a huge thanks to my usual editor Piedol, go check his stuff out, it's very good. Now however I have to mention another very talented editor who is helping me out, Alpha151.
Both of these guys are full of awesome.
That's enough talk. TO THE SHOW!
P.S. I hate to sound needy, but would I be able to get some art for this? I mean, actual art? The cover image at the moment is just one that I found...
Hoofsteps. Pounding. Getting closer every second, every heartbeat. She couldn't escape. Couldn't run fast enough.
A wall? nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. She whipped around to stare into the face of-
“AHHHHH!”
The sound of her yelling threw her out of sleep almost immediately. Fuzzy images flew through her mind, indistinct in the haze of sleep that hung around her head. The sheets were damp around her and sweat clung to her slender frame. All around her sheets were flung about carelessly, supposedly while she was sleeping. She herself was scrunched up in a ball in the middle of the huge bed, nestled in the middle of the carcass of ‘pristine’ blankets.
Her joints popped loudly as she stretched out, uncurling from her position, bringing a grimace to her face. The early-morning sun blazed through the windows, completely ignoring the curtains by finding the tiny gaps and penetrating them with ease. She tried to roll over and get back to sleep, but these tiny rays held more heat than they let on, and in a few minutes she was forced to flee. That or coat the bed in more sweat.
She had the feeling that Fancy Pants wouldn’t find that very nice. Or for that matter, Polished Mantle.
With that in mind she leaped out of the bed, shaking her head violently to clear the sleepiness that was left over. A few images from her dreams shot through her head again, but they escaped before she could make sense of them. She knew that they had some importance, or some meaning, anything. They seemed a little familiar too.
Oh well. Gone now.
She tried to push all of the bad thoughts away. They didn’t matter. Soon she would be going into Canterlot for the second time, bringing her closer to her goal of meeting the fabled Princess of Equestria and clearing her name of... whatever it was that they wanted her for, apart from being a...
Clone. That was it.
It took her a few seconds to realise that she had just been staring at the floor, gazing into the bottomless carpet that clung to the ground. It all looked the same, the carpet that is. Why couldn’t life be like that? But she knew it wasn’t that simple, or at least she guessed. Nothing had been simple for the duration of her...
Existence.
Life.
...Creation.
Stop it. Thinking about it’s doing nothing. Gotta get moving, anything!
She half-stumbled into around the room. The door to the ensuite was open, beckoning her with its bathroom-y goodness. The drowsy pony straightened up and walked in, not bothering to close the door behind her.
There was a sink, and she quickly walked over to it, checking her reflection in the mirror hanging above. There seemed to be something strange about it, but she couldn’t be exactly sure what it was. She quickly shook the thought out of her head.
She took a few moments to stand in front of the mirror, before grabbing a comb that was lying on the sink. She lost herself in the repetition of simply brushing her mane, getting the tangles out, making herself look presentable.
It was all too soon that she was reminded of her appearance when she took the comb away, leaving just a completely smooth, straight mane of dark pink hair, the same as she had had for the last few days. No frizz there. At least there was some difference between her and the other.
But something was still different, what exactly? She’d removed all of the tangles, she’d fixed the gnarls, the whorls, what was wrong?
She was looking awfully pale today, why? Was she sick? Indeed, her coat was a different pink to what she was used to, lighter, diluted, missing. She turned around, trying to find something...
She slowed. Something was wrong. It was a nag in the back of her mind, but there was something different with her appearance. She couldn’t quite think of what it was, but is was there. Come to think of it, she wasn’t feeling too well either. Maybe just a bug. That must be it, she was getting sick, or something along those lines.
With one last dubious look towards the mirror she turned tail and walked out of the bathroom and departed her room, seeking the perfect thing to distract her: food. She passed Polished Mantle not even a few steps out of her room. The caretaker was slowly making his way along the corridor, shining all of the small treasures that littered the long walk.
He gave her a small smile as she walked by, waving his hoof quickly before returning it to its work. “Good morning miss, I trust that you had a good rest?”
She smiled back at him. It was infectious. “Oh yeah, it was great.” She shuddered in spite of the warmth of the morning. She was feeling a little off. She hoped that the caretaker wouldn’t notice.
He did. “Are you feeling quite all right today?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “Too cold? Anything?”
“Just nervous,” she said cautiously, “I’ll be fine soon.”
He chuckled. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous my dear. You’re not used to Canterlot, and you’re about to have an audience with the Princess in a few days. That would have any sane pony practically quaking in their hooves.” He chuckled good naturedly. “Maybe that’s why Fancy never has any problem with seeing the Royal Sisters...”
He noticed the look that she was giving him. “Oh don’t mind me miss Pie,” he waved her off with a hoof, “just rambling a bit. Go on downstairs, there should be something for you to eat. I’d better get on with my work, these things won’t stay clean by themselves...”
She walked off, but she could still hear him talking quietly to himself. “I wonder if I could make something that did make them clean themselves...” he said, just before she was out of earshot.
Shaking her head, she continued through the house. It was huge, yes. It was beautiful, yes. Confusing? Not really. There wasn’t really much of a trick to not getting lost. She hadn’t really gone anywhere though, so she couldn’t really be sure. For all she knew there was a giant maze somewhere, and Fancy would kidnap ponies and put them in it, and put cheese, no, CAKE somewhere in it, and then he would make them go through a bunch of test chambers in the maze to get the cake, and there would be a giant robot and some boxes with hear-
...Or maybe not, maybe it is just a really big house...
She walked down the stairs at the end of the long corridor and proceeded through into the ‘breakfast chamber’, or so Fancy called it. He had a habit of naming some of the rooms.
His own bedroom was the ‘lair’, or maybe that was Polished’s name for it...
Suddenly the thoughts of cake and mazes seemed a little more believable.
She found her generous host waiting for her, a veritable banquet already strewn across the table top. Her mouth watered at the sight of it, and Fancy’s grin - which was always there - only grew wider at the sight of her excitement. if he was at all revolted, disgusted, or in any way unnerved at the way she unhinged her mouth to swallow a whole platter of muffins whole, he didn’t show it, which was in a feat in itself.
While she was eating... everything, Fancy called out to her, “Slow down Pinkie dear, you’re going to make yourself sick!” He paused for a moment, “Although I have seen you in action at a party before...”
He shook his head slightly, clearing his mind to think. “Anyway, forget that. I trust that you had a good sleep? Feeling refreshed?” Without waiting for an answer - not like she could have with that much oatmeal in her mouth - he kept talking. “Now, I saw how much fun you had yesterday, so I’ve decided to keep going with the theme of showing you around Canterlot. We’re not going back to the Musician’s District today,” he nodded to acknowledge the faint groan of disappointment coming from the pink vacuum cleaner, “now now, don’t be like that. Today, we’re going to someplace that I think can sometimes be even better. Believe me, you will have a great time.”
Fancy looked like he was about to say something else, but paused. “Say, Pinkie,’ he queried, “are you sure that you’re feeling alright?”
She nodded vigorously around the food that surrounded her. “Yup, feeling... fullerific!” Yep, no influences that might have altered her answer there...
“Huh,” Fancy mumbled, “I thought that you were looking a little pale to-” He abruptly caught himself mid sentence and Polished Mantle, who had only just walked in, gave him an annoyed stare.
“Fancy,” he started, “you really have absolutely no sense of how to talk to a mare, do you?”
“Oh come now,” Fancy replied, “Fleur seems to like the way I speak!”
“Indeed Fancy.” He leaned next to her ear discreetly. “Celestia only knows that that stallion has about as much social tact as a brick.”
**
“This way, come along now!”
“She said WHAT?!”
“I know right?’
“I couldn’t believe it either!”
“Wait, what’s that on the ground? Is that...”
“She’s dead!”
The ring of ponies froze, mouths open in shock at the corpse in front of them. It was an old pink coloured thing, matted fur with dried blood clinging to it. Its mouth was open in an expression of shock, glassy eyes that rolled around aimlessly as one of the ponies around it poked it tentatively.
And then one of the arms fell off, and all of the ponies around the ‘corpse’ let out a loud moan of annoyance before picking up the corpse, and the arm, and taking them away from their small sheltered gazebo.
Fancy was watching them with a slight grimace. “Shame,” he said, “I would have liked to see where that was going, I quite liked it so far.”
“YEAH!” she shouted from her spot on the bench next to him, “it was pretty cool n’ all.”
Fancy chuckled. “I guess you’re right, it was pretty... cool as you say. Although I am disappointed about that prop that they were using, I do hate to see them stop midway through an act. However, I think that was just a practice for a later performance, so it works out in the end anyway, no harm done to the actors, or us for that matter.” He finished with a slight chuckle before turning to face her. “Come along then, much more to see.”
Fancy hopped off the bench, trotting away from the gazebo where the actors had been. They were in a moderately large park, other gazebos littered around on the grass. Some were in use, other not, but the only ponies that were inside would always be making extravagant gestures, talking loudly, or becoming extremely emotional.
It was the Actor’s District, the most expressive part of Canterlot. Physically at least. Fancy had summed it up for her when that had arrived, walking beneath a banner strung between the buildings on either side, drama masks painted on it.
“Here,” he had said. “is a bit of a refuge you might say. Well, that doesn’t do it justice.” He had paused, bringing a hoof to his chin in thought. “It’s strange really. It’s like a place that is both the home and the set for actors. And yes, that is the case. I’ve seen a pony walk through here with her shopping, only to have it ‘stolen’, and handed back to her a second later as the exciting chase scene finished. The best part? The mare didn’t even mind! She was an actor too! Sure, she wasn’t a part of the scene, but she appreciated the thought that another group was rehearsing and just... took her into their performance.”
She could sure see that now. She had walked out of the part, following Fancy,who seemed to know where he was going at all times. Even amongst the buildings however, away from the park, she could still feel the undercurrent of emotion that surged through the streets. Fancy had been completely right with his description.
The acting was everywhere. it was in the streets, the ponies, the objects. She would see something happening. Maybe a couple arguing fiercely, almost at each other’s throats, only for them to have a dramatic make-up scene and kiss, while an audience awww’d and applauded the talents of the pair.
A chase scene? Covered. Love scenes? Four of them, at least. Maybe a comedy act. She could tell where those were. The areas around a comedian was filled with laughter as every single pony that was listening was clutching their sides in an effort to contain their mirth.
And she just couldn’t contain the grin that slowly slid onto her face at watching all of the ponies smiling and applauding. There was an undercurrent of goodwill, a thought of general excitement, like at any point something could just happen, and then there would be a flurry of impromptu activity and it would repeat again.
But for her, the best point on the day was when she met the mime...
**
She chuckled to herself, trying to let out the leftover giggles that watching another comedian had left in her. They really were incredibly funny. Fancy was giggling himself, if not a little less then she.
“That was GREAT Fancy, I didn’t know that I could laugh that hard! I mean, seriously, that guy was just putting the fu- AAHHHHH!”
She was cut off as something jumped out at her without warning. It was a pony, and it looked more than a bit strange. It was a pure, deep white, with a mane of the deepest blacks. Strangely, the stallion also had something that looked like red paint on his muzzle and more black eyeshadow around his... well, eyes.
And he was copying her, perfectly. Fancy was watching her with an amused expression as she tried to figure out just what the stallion was doing. He was just standing in front of her. Every movement she did he would copy without pause. It was unnerving how quickly he reacted to whatever she did. She jumped up and down, he did the same thing, she spun around and poked her tongue out, he did the same thing. She leaped up into the air and froze, hovering for some reason...
And the other pony didn’t sadly, he smacked back onto the ground, smiling ruefully. Fancy was laughing truly at this point, thoroughly amused at the sight of her trying to puzzle out the pony that WOULDN’T STOP COPYING HER! The moment she was back on the ground he was at it again, mimicking her every move with complete precision, only sometimes adding a little flourish, a small clumsy movement left in there on purpose. He was making an art out of ‘perfectly’ copying her, and being very funny at the same time.
Not funny for me. STOP COPYING!
Eventually Fancy stepped in to stop her. “Pinkie,” he said, “calm down a little. I’m surprised that you don’t know what he’s doing.” He stood next to the strange stallion. “This kind pony is actually a friend of mine. His name is Copy Cat, and he’s a mime,” he paused to put a hoof on Copy’s shoulder, “and a very good one at that. I think that you would be hard pressed to find one better than this fine fellow right here.” He turned to the stallion. “So what are you up to Copy? I don’t usually see you in this area. Aren’t you normally over at the main walk?”
Copy made a bunch of movements. They seemed strange, but Fancy took the meaning behind them in an instant. “Ahhh, well Copy,” Fancy said, “this is Pinkie Pie, she’s staying with me for a few days. She’s just visiting Canterlot to talk to the Princesses,” Copy’s eyebrows shot up at this, “and now I’m taking her on a bit of a tour. Actually it was very nice bumping into yo...”
She watched as the two stallions talked. Throughout the whole ‘conversation’ Copy didn’t say anything, not even when Fancy had a little trouble with deciphering his meanings, not that he did that often. Fancy was right, Copy was an amazing mime. She would hate to play charades with him, unless she was on his team...
Eventually they had moved on, and she was asking Fancy about what it was that Copy did.
“Well,” Fancy began, “it’s a little difficult to explain. He’s a mime like I said, and he’s very good at what he does.” He held up a hoof before she could say anything. “Be patient, I’ll get to that. Anyhow, as I was saying. As a mime it’s his performance to be extremely... outspoken, only without any actual words. He can have a whole argument without saying a thing. It’s not like he has a choice...” he gave a rueful look back down the streets to where Copy had been.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Fancy sighed. “Copy Cat is mute. He’s never said a word in his life. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at what he does. He lives it at all times. And he found a way to adapt to his... situation. Hence, mime. And like I said, you would be hard pressed to find anypony better at miming than he.”
He stopped thoughtfully. “Like what he did to you my dear. Any normal pony can copy well, sometimes perfectly, but he can put that spin on it, change it just enough that it’s the same, but different at the same time. He makes an art out of it. It’s like his own personal way of saying ‘I’m different, and I can be like you, but I choose to change your actions slightly, so I’m different.’”
He rubbed a hoof against his neck. “Or at least that’s how I like to look at it. He’s a very nice pony regardless, and-
“Are you feeling well?”
His words slid into her mind, and she jolted out of her thoughts with a start. “Hmmm? Oh, no, I’m fine, just... thinking is all.” In truth his words had kindled a small flame of thought. Copy Cat? Was it possible for her to be different? If a mime could completely mimic her, but still be different at the same time, then maybe...
No, just overthinking it, nothing really...
Fancy nodded and turned around,making his way along the street. Most of the ponies had already filed off a while ago, and the sun was beginning to make its way down towards the horizon. “Well then Pinkie, we had better be off home then, hmm?”
She didn’t hesitate to fall into step behind him. “Sure, let’s go...”
**
She found herself once more in the bathroom in Fancy’s mansion. They had already eaten their dinner, Polished joking around with her and making wise cracks at Fancy’s expense. Not that either of them seemed to mind, there was an undercurrent of respect that flowed between the two stallions, and they got along well.
And then she had finished and walked up to her room alone, and now she was staring at her reflection.
She shuddered. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Nor was it necessarily ugly.
She was fading. No doubt about it. In just the span of a day her coat had faded. It was maybe half as bright as it had been earlier that morning, when the paling had just been a distant thought. But now?
She flinched slightly and turned. Her cutie mark was doing the same, the three balloons that looked so alien were now a sore spot. Anything was better than nothing, and she was hoping that she could at least hold onto them. But even so, the balloons were fading. Less so than her coat, but fading nonetheless.
She turned a full circle and leaned in closer to the mirror, looking deep into her eyes. The once vibrant cerulean irises were darkening, darkening. Not too noticeable, but definitely happening.
She backed away from the mirror and turned back into the room proper, shoving any bad thoughts to the back of her mind. They didn’t matter, the only thing that did was her seeing the Princess in a few days, and no paling coat would stop her from achieving her goal, no matter how long it took.
She grabbed some sheets from the bed before walking to the balcony and laying down, curled up in her small nest of sheets. The moon was waning tonight, the barest sliver of what it used to be at one point, but it was still bright.
She curled up deeper in the pile of blankets to escape the chill breeze that was starting to rise, and felt the welcome blackness of sleep rise to greet her.
And as with every night, her demons arrived with it.
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Yay it updated.
Like a second ago!
*reads*
1961009 Literally a second, I'm still on the page...
*coughs* and I already made a small change...
Hmm. I'm expecting that we're in for a Surprise...
I'm thinking that the pool has som type of time cap on its clones....
But I don't know why her eyes would be getting darker....
Maybe she is turning into Surprise, the original form Pinkie was going to be ....
I dunno.
...wow...
...please tell me she'll make it out of this alive...
Is possibly fading away into a gray pony sort of like a blank slate where she will then change into a different pony that is truly her?
Or she just fades away into nothing
Nnnnoooo why would the cookies crumble so.
:(
1961240 Because Anchorman.
That is all.
I guess the Mirror Poll just doesn't make them to last...
Here's hoping Celestia can fix it.
I think she's fading from existence
Aww, poor, er, Pinkie. I hope she's just fading because she is depressed, and not because she is dying D=
Ciao darling
Story about ponys picking on (fake) pinkie? "LEAVE PINKIE ALONE" o and instant fave.
1961142
i1.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/010/390/pC8jf5t4eWCDKcMu.jpg
This updated right as I clicked. Good work as always.
1961164 Have you looked at the title? She's turning into "Her Own Pony"
Either she is fading out of existance or due to her internal sadness is turning into
I really hope her fading is what I think it is and not what everyone ELSE thinks it is..... OR YOU HAVE TO FACE
Oh Pinkie clone...
Also someone get on making an art for this story, it really deserves one.
Is Pinkie Clone gonna die?
1961298Anchorman!!
Why u no gud cookie killer.
How did you know that defeating
and a cookie will only make it tasteyer. (Who is Anchorman?) Goodnight 
When the cookie crumbles, how come no one asks what type of cookie? What type of cookie is it? Also, poor gal. She's still got some fight in 'er though, I'll give her that.
We can hope...
Author's note: *your.
It's fun to be a grammar nazi when it's your job.
Also, the small little details you added since my first read really did the trick. Knowing what the nightmare was adds so much to the story as it exposes Clinkie's true fears. Great job!
Loving the story so far, very excited to see her meeting with the Princess! I've enjoyed seeing how different she is from Pinkie already, and how she keeps changing and growing.
Fading, that can't be good. I wonder if the girls know about that.
Hope she can hold out.
This I like where this is headed.
Whoa, I hope the poor copy okay. As for the story, I have to say, it seems the only thing a mime can't copy is Pinkie-related activities. Which got me a few laughs out of it. There was a few spelling mistakes, but nevertheless, you did a good job with this.
Have all my likes
I hope that she isnt gonna die.
But I'm glad to see I'm not the only one thinking she is turning into Surprise.
Cant wait for next update
1961142
[youtube=www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YMPAH67f4o]
dont forget your sunglasses
I sorta expect her to turn into Surprise, or simply turn into a new "her" entirely since she's being less and less a copy of Pinky and more her own pony. Hopefully it will disrupt any attempted spell from Twi to "dispose" of her, since she wont be a copy anymore.
Good story so far. Love her psychological roller-coaster. Very gripping and interesting.
Upvote + fav.
Oh fuck, she better not have to deal with the problems most clones go through. Namely the shortened life span, considering she was created magically and not in a test tube.
Please let the clone live.
my gosh. she's going to get into the audience with celestia, the other girls will be there, and then she's going to end up colapsing on the floor and dying, and then i'm gonna cry...
Just my two cents on what I think is happening with the whole fading away or becoming a blank slate; I noticed that while her coat is fading it said her eyes were darkening, seems to indicate that she's not simply disappearing.
Welp, I'm looking forward to the next chapter quite a bit. Maybe when I'm not stuck on mobile, I'll say something more insightful.
Princess hoooooo!
Okay, I'm starting to get worried for Pinkie2. The ponds mirror magic must be running out. I just hope she is able too keep up till she meets the princesses.
I think some people will be in for a surprise.
I feel sad now
I want copy Pinkie to live
1963018
Please let Pinnkie2 see the Princess before she fades from existence
fight on little sister! fight on until you earn your own life!
Nuuuu! Dun die, Pinks! We luv you!
"He’s lives it at all times" should be "He lives it at all times".
That said, I really enjoyed this update. Copy Cat was especially cool and I'm looking forward to what you do with Pinkie's fading.
And one more thing. Thank you. Thank you so much for creating this, for free. We all enjoy it, and I can't thank you enough,
1968008 Thanks man, that means a lot to hear it from someone who likes the story.
1961142
Ahhhhhhhhhahhhhhh. I see what you did there XD very clever
either clone pinkie is dying or you have some sort of Surprise for us
First of all. Cover image fits story. Ask author of picture permission to keep it.
After reading.
Wow... That was sad.
But I think she is being Discorded. Fading colors and all that.
1961142
That Rapier Wit of yours...
Damn, I too seriously hope she's not dying. Changing, okay. But dying?