I am Pinkie Pie

by jp523

Full Story (Revised)

I am Pinkie Pie

The floor is oddly still beneath my hooves as my eyes scan the backs of several rows of Pinkie Pies. Our ample numbers engulf the hard floor of the grand chestnut hall in the center of town.

At the head of the room, an orderly purple unicorn mare stands before a wall covered in damp paint. She tells us that we are to watch this paint dry.

A collective gasp of fear erupts from the front of the crowd.

Not missing a beat, the unicorn motions enthusiastically with her right fore-hoof as she gives her final announcement.

“On your marks, get set, go!”

I face the wall. My eyes bore into its surface, absorbing every detail they find.

It's blue.

Blue and drippy.

It's blue and drippy, and the unicorn mare is standing beside it.

What was her name? Twinkleshine? Yeah, that seems right. Anyways this Twinkleshine, she seems really pumped about this. Even the dragon - Spine, I think - seems really into it. He even brought popcorn. He doesn't seem to be eating much of it though.

The Pinkie Pie in front of me doesn't seem excited though. She's been all mopey today. Poking at the ground? That's almost less fun than watching paint dry. I guess she could probably do this all day. I don't think she can tell the difference.

The wall is still blue. It is slightly less drippy.

Some of the other Pinkies have stopped staring. At least not intently. They shift around restlessly. They probably don't know why we are here either.

The damp odor of perspiration seeps into the stale smell of wet paint and the fresh pine of the polished floor.

I survey the wall. There isn’t much to see. The wet patches of paint each form pools, which travel down the wall at a painfully slow speed. They feel like tiny ripples in a great pool of blue.

I make a game of following their path. I start at the bottom right corner, follow the path around the perimeter until I have reached the center. My eyes quickly trace out the proper path.

I try it again. The path feels the same. After two more tries, there is little change. My eyes start to wander.

Twinkleshine is less excited. Expressing little emotion, she lazily surveys the crowd. Her eyes seem to shift across the crowd in separate rows, and four distinct columns within each row. It seems to help her maintain focus.

Spine has fallen asleep covered in uneaten popcorn.

My head begins to dip. My body is sore from the picnic. Juggling tortoises is harder than it looks. Especially when they try to fight back. After I had finished, most whom had struggled did not walk. Many tried, only to stumble.

One of them had immediately retreated into his shell. When I set him down, he didn’t come out, or move in any way. The yellow pegasus, Blustershy, approached him. She talked to him in low, soothing tones. Slowly, he came out of his shell and walked, as the others continued to stumble.

He must have had a good nap.

My eyes droop. The hard wooden floor is suddenly very inviting. Before my eyes close, they linger on the wall. There is little change. I bid the wall a good night.

“Hey look, it's a birdie!”

My eyes instantly widen, and my body springs back into attention. A beam of bright crimson magic erupts from Twinkleshine’s horn. The beam lances across my vision, and I am momentarily blinded. There are a series of otherworldly sounds, and a small pop.

The silence is deafening. I dare not blink. My eyes are completely fixated on Twinkleshine’s horn. My hooves shake and my vision is unsteady, as though affected by the slightest of ripples.

I blink. My vision is still.

Twinkleshine’s mouth is set in a tight grimace. Her eyes are intense and her brows severe as she scans the room.

The wall is still blue. It’s still not very drippy. I try to trace the path in a different direction. My glance diverts abruptly as Twinkleshine shakes her head, moving a strand of violet hair from her eyes.

I scold myself silently. My eyes return to the wall.

My forehooves are still sore. They are stiff now from supporting my weight. I shift about uncomfortably.

I silence my hooves, and settle my attention on the wall.

The silence starts to recede. Many quiet sounds fill the hall. The twitch of nervous ears, swiveling in all directions. The slight clops as hooves are rearranged. The rhythmic breaths of the crowd.

“Watch me bounce and touch the ceiling!” I hear an excited squeal and a very loud clop before Twinkleshine sends two more beams in the direction of the disruption.

Her face is neutral, her eyes impassive. My eyes are pinned to her horn.

For a moment, it seems as though her eyes meet my own. I avert my gaze to the wall once more.

In the following minutes, she lights up the room. I try to draw patterns in the wet paint, but the constant flashes pull my eyes away. After the flash, another outburst is always soon to follow. Each is silenced the moment it erupts with a cruel sort of efficiency. When she is done, her horn is glowing red and smoking. She is wearing a predatory grin as she surveys the three survivors.

The hall seems to expand at the edge of my vision. At our backs there is a great mass of dull brown, lit by the light from a lonely window.

At our front, the wall lays flat, as we lean over the barren precipice to sustain our glance.

My legs barely hold me. They are sore, yet they tremble horribly. My eyes frantically veer between the wall and Twinkleshine’s eyes, which mercilessly scan all three of us.

The wall is nearly dry.

Twinkleshine doesn’t seem to notice.

We stand there. The mopey Pinkie survived. Her breathing is steady.

I am gasping for air. I am wet with perspiration; my hooves feel clammy on the floor. I try to focus, but my eyes are constantly drawn to Twinkleshine’s horn.

With a slight grunt, I bare my teeth. Slowly, I trace the ripples of still-wet paint. They move at an agonizing pace. For a time, I forget to blink. When I do, I hesitate to reopen them.

It is dark and I am a pebble. I am falling into the wall. The surface comes alive with fresh ripples, and I fall through. A pink hoof reaches out and I take hold. It pulls me out, through the surface of the wall.

I reopen my eyes. The wall is unchanged. The tremble in my eyes is the only movement I see.

The ripples have hardened. There is nothing to look at, but I don’t stop.

My unblinking eyes carve the ripples into my mind. Again. And again. And again.

A rough voice yells something behind me. I hardly hear it. Another blast.

In the silence, I still hear Mopey’s steady breath.

My breath is a whisper, almost forgotten.

The wall looms above me. My eyes trace the solid ripples. I dare not blink.

My eyes grow sluggish. They settle in the center of the wall.

The edges of my corneas are becoming dry. My eyes hurt when I move them.

My perspiration is drying. My hooves stick to the wooden tiles.

The rough voice returns. “Uh, there's fun outside, just, look. Ya know, outside; away from the wall.”

Mopey’s steady breaths are the only response.

“C’mon, look in another direction. We can't do this all day.”

Twinkleshine sighs, “Rainbow, I don't think that’s going to work.”

“Well we can’t just leave them here all night!”

A pause. Twinkleshine’s voice returns, “Applejack, I need you to watch over the Pinkies after sunrise.”

“Uh, sure Twi.”

“I will keep guard till then. If anything happens while I am asleep be sure to tell me right away.”

“Ah promise I won’t let you down. Good luck.”

The hoofbeats fade quickly.

My eyes don’t move. They can’t.

I don’t try to move my legs. Their joints have locked.

My vision is fading. My eyes grow dry. I can only see a calm surface of endless blue.

The pool is still. It has always been still. Occasionally some small part of the cave ceiling would fall, and there would be ripples, but only for a moment.

When I was Pinkie Pie the water was never still.

I guess that too, was only a moment.

Many moments pass. The pool has darkened to a dull blue.

I hear the rough voice again. It seems as though it is speaking from a mile away.

“Stop. This is insane.”

Twinkleshine’s taut voice returns. “Rainbow, you can’t just barge in here and dem-”

“I’m serious, you can’t keep them here all night.”

“What else would I do? Do you want there to be two Pinkies in town? We have to find the real one, and this is the test that we chose, we have to carry it through to the end.”

“But -”

There is a long silence. Twinkleshine’s speaks up first, her tone terse.

“Rainbow -”

“Don’t you see what this is doing to her! Pinkie Pie shouldn’t have to be like this, and you know it.”

“There’s no other way -”

“Horseapples! Of course there is, you’re smart. I’m sure you have some trick to figure this out. Right?”

A pause. Ragged, angry breaths fill the silence.

Twinkleshine’s voice returns; silent, but firm.

“No, there isn’t. I don’t know any other way."

Terse breaths fill the air. Then the rough voice returns in a reasoning tone.

"Then we don't need a way, there are only two of them. What's the harm of letting both live?"

Twinkleshine's tone grows heavy.

"Trust is powerful. Too powerful to risk for anypony's sake."

The rough voice replies, its tone irate.

"How can you say that? Don't you care about-"

"Thousands of Ponies nearly died because nopony believed that Cadence could ever be evil!"

The silence is deafening. Twinkleshine continues in a soft tone.

"Then those thousands of ponies survived because I knew, and Shining Armor knew that Cadence - the real Cadence - was not evil."

There is a defeated sigh.

"But, look at what we have done. How can Pinkie ever trust us again?"

"She will. Even if she does not at first, we will find a way to earn her trust once more."

"What if she fails?"

Twinkleshine's voice is reassuring.

"Pinkie would never let us down. She may mess up from time to time, and she is hard to understand, but I know that Pinkie Pie is the best friend a pony could hope for."

The rough voice responds tonelessly.

"Well, I don't think we have been the best friends she could hope for."

There is a slight sniffle. It is nearly inaudible in the silence.

For the longest time, there is no speaking. Soft, irregular breathing from the space in front of me fills the silence.

The dull blue grows darker with time, until there is no color.

I try to remember its hue, but all I can think of are the letters that form "blue" and "pink."

The breathing grows labored, choking audibly on each breath.

My muscles no longer ache to keep me standing. I could not move if I tried.

There is a soft trembling in the floor. It crawls up through my hooves, which shudder under the assault.

The fibers of the wooden floor reach up through my legs, following the vibrations. Slowly, the thick chords climb up my torso; wrapping around my neck; smothering my muzzle.

I hear a brittle voice emerge from the despondent gasps. “Sorry.” The voice grows louder, but the chords reach my ears and I stop hearing words. There are wails, but my ears are filled with timber.

The vibrations in the floor are all that remain.

There is a chorus of many vibrations followed by complete stillness.

For a time, there is nothing.

After nearly an eternity, I feel a hoof poke me in the shoulder.

I attempt to reorient myself and fall lazily to the floor in a pile of limp hooves.

I blink several times, and see a purple blob with Twinkleshine’s voice. “Its alright, you can look away now.”

Realization returns. My eyes clear. Twinkleshine's face looms above me, with a thin smile and worried eyes. My eyes dart instantly towards the purple ringed horn atop her head. My hooves flail about limply, as if they are trying to flee. Twilight's smile falters, and she lets out her words in a gasp, "Pinkie, are you hurt?" She looks to me, her eyes begging for a response.

It hurts to speak, and the my raspy voice hurts my ears. “I passed?” I look up, my expression hopeful.

“Yes, you were the only Pinkie Pie that never looked away from the wall.” She extends a hoof to me. I grab the hoof and she pulls me from the floor. I look back towards the wall one last time. It is gone. I turn towards Twinkleshine. Silence reigns as she looks at me with trepidation.

I embrace her with all of my might.

Twinkleshine complains that I am choking her, but she returns the embrace. The fur on her cheek is damp with fresh tears.

I rest my muzzle next to her ear, and whisper. “Thank you Twinkleshine.”

Comments

[Somebody]

Dat ending.
I can just see Twilight's face after she hears those words.

magnetinspirado.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/beaker-oh-shit.jpeg

[TrevorLaneRay]

BRILLIANT!
Insta fav & +1

[FeatherFighter]

SEQUEL!!!

[Duplex Fields]

An excellent dark take. Superbly done alternate universe. It's chillingly efficient at what it does.

I wonder if we could wrangle thirty-eight other writers to write all forty Pies, all canonical in their outcomes (unlike this excellent tale), each selecting one of the Pies who fell and the one who remained. "An unprecedented and massive undertaking!" indeed...

[jp523]

2324860
Thank you very much! I was very interested in looking at a more undefined clone, and letting survival instincts take their course.

Also, that sounds like a wonderful idea. It would be particularly marvelous to see what the first Pinkies to be blasted were thinking.

Oh no! That unicorn up there is zapping us out of existence. What if I am next?
This changes everything. If I don't exist then I won't be able to gargle water in the lake, or toss tortoises, or even bounce about. I guess I will just have to sit my rump down and watch this stupid wall of pai-
Watch me bounce and touch the ceiling!
OMG, bouncing!
U both dead!

[FashionablyHospitable]

Oh my wizard god! Sequel? Please? I really want to see the reactions to this. My imagination is not being itself.

[nightwalker]

Nice kick at the end. Terribly underrated story.