The Cloning Blues

by Swordslinger

Rating: everyone
Tags: Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Pinkie Pie
Length: 3222

A wayward clone shares her thoughts with herself, and her visitor.

Reception is just your average pony, she works for a pretty big newspaper as a reporter, she has a colt-friend she's falling in love with, likes to spend her weekends dancing and loves to wear her snazzy hat. There is nothing special about her.

Oh yeah, she's also a clone of Pinkie Pie that managed to avoid being ballooned. But other then that, nothing special about her.

Nothing special at all....

Published 2016-05-28 23:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-28 23:50:02 UTC

After party.

After party.

Well, this is certainly something.

No, no, I just wasn’t….expecting this, that’s all. It’s not everyday somepony like me gets to talk to somepony like you.

….Okay, yeah, I’ve talked to a few famous ponies, but I prefer to keep local, you know, the common folk. Keeps me grounded, ya know. Reminds me that I’m still me.

About myself? Why would you want to know about me? I’m nopony special.

…..Well, you’re not wrong there….. But, where should I start?

The beginning huh? Well, about that….For somepony like me, there’s no “beginning,” just a middle, but I see your point.

First things first then, I’m a magical clone of Pinkie Pie….though I take it you’ve already gathered that. Anyway, I was “born” so to speak, in a magical mirror pool when Pinkie, that is, the original one decided that the world needed more of her and used the pool to duplicate herself. I’m one of those duplicates, number 13, to be exact. How do I know? I counted the Pinkies in front of me when I was born and made a few math hurdles in my head. As you can probably tell by now, I’m...a bit smarter than the other Pinkies that came out of the pool, most of the Pinkies were just copied and pasted from the original, her personality, her looks, but not a lot of her brains.

Add into that, none of us really had her “memories” except for me, I have a few...nothing major, really. Don’t ask me why, I honestly don’t know myself, but all I have are few glimpses of birthday parties, some of the preparation that went into them, but that’s my saving grace. See, believe it or not, it actually takes a lot of mental prowess to calculate how exactly much confetti you need to throw a party, and don’t even get me started on streamers.

No, streamers are serious business. Don’t you ever suggest otherwise.

….I’m sorry, I just haven’t gotten a lot of sleep lately.

Anyway, when we were lead into the town hall by Rainbow Dash, I was a little bit suspicious, as it turns out, having a bit more brains than the average clone can lead to you having doubts as to why a purple unicorn was having you watch paint dry.

At first, I was confused, why was she having us do that? Being a bit of a worry wort and all, I figured something was up and I kinda sorta...hid in the shadows where nopony would see me when I got the chance.

What can I say? I’m the second best hide and seeker in Equestria.

Anyway, when one of the Pinkies….my sister...got bored and did something to entertain herself….the unicorn….Twilight….murdered her….and then another….and another….another...

I….I…..just….

I need a minute….

……

…..Yeah, no….It’s just….Thanks.

It’s…hard to explain, the other clones….they weren’t really….alive in the same sense of you or me. It’s like….well, they were constructs that were made to fit one purpose, and that was to be like Pinkie Pie. I sorta compare them to those robots you’d see in the movies….Yeah, I liked that one too. I don’t think Sweetie Bell did though….Unless...do you think she’s a robot?

No? You don’t think so?

….I suppose you of all ponies would know.

Back to the paint...and back to her.

No, I don’t hate Twilight, I….I….Oh, who am I fooling? It’s not that I hate her, it’s that I fear her, especially now that she’s an Alicorn. I know it’s foolish, but sometimes, I expect her to burst through my apartment door and melt me.

You don’t think she would? You say potato, I say murderous unicorn.

…..I suppose we both have a bit of a bias on that subject.

When she was melting my sisters...the other clones, I was horrified. Can you imagine what it’s like, to see yourself being killed again, again, and again? All because they couldn’t sit still for two minutes?

I can.

Sometimes I have nightmares from that day.

When there was about three Pinkies left, I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to get out. The town hall has a lot of windows, it was easy to slip through the cracks….literally.

Hey, brains aren’t the only thing I inherited.

Yeah, I’m not as...bouncy as the other Pinkie, I mean, I was, at first. But after that day….I sorta sombered up, seeing yourself get turned into balloons does that to a pony.

When I escaped from the hall, first chance I got I slip away on a train heading towards Manehattan.

Yeah, I suppose in hindsight it was illegal to board without a ticket, but I was in a lot of stress and….

Alright, first chance I get I’ll buy a ticket to ponyville, but I’m not getting on, ya hear?

….Good.

Anyway, when I got to the city, I just sorta...stumbled around for a bit. Trying to get my head clear, ya know? Of course, it wasn’t long before the police caught me, what, with me looking just like Pinkie Pie and the Changeling invasion at Canterlot. In hindsight, it was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to me.

After Celestia knows how many tests to determine whether or not I was a Changeling, all of which failed because...well, I’m a clone, not a bug. The police let me go, but inquired about who I was.

I told them as much as I could without giving myself away as a clone.

Granted, most of it was that I have no home, no records of being born, and no previous contacts with anypony. When asked where I was born, I merely told them “Ponyville’s outskirts.” That one was actually pretty truthful. The police then on assumed that I was just born in a travelling party caravan and just assumed I was unlucky enough to be born looking like Pinkie Pie, hence my lack of official records. From there, they went about the standard process of assigning me an identity, and I had no reason to say no. So, that’s how I got my name, Reception.

Yeah, I know it’s not the most...original name, but it’s all I could think of at the moment. I was under a lot of pressure.

So, that’s how the pony called Reception was named, and how I spent the next few weeks as a wandering vagrant.

It wasn’t….easy, I spent more than one night in a box because I couldn’t reach a homeless shelter fast enough. But I wasn’t about to give up, I got work where I could, saved up my Bits as I did. Sometimes that meant doing public performances in the park, sometimes that meant working at the docks, loading fish into boats for the fish market.

Ugh, I can still smell the salmon.

But after a month or two of just working my flank off, I managed to save up enough to get an apartment. It wasn’t the best, kinda grimy, but it had running water, and a roof over my head. It was enough for the time being.

I managed along the way to get a job at a local newspaper. It was nothing important, just sort the mail, figure out which went where and file things away, it was just so boring that sometimes I just wanted to scream. But it put food on the table and paid my rent, so I can’t complain. (And I sorta had a nice outlet at a local club where I could dance my heart out. Heh, everypony likes the pigtails I wear, not sure why though.)

Then I met him, my soon to be coltfriend.

Yeeehee….stop giving me that look, I’m already embarrassed enough as is.

His name is Blitzcrieg, fancy name, I know. His parents are from Germane, and apparently his father served in the military. Wanted his son to join too, but he despite being a pretty fast pegasus, he just didn’t have the aptitude for it.

Just like I don’t have the aptitude to be Pinkie anymore, so I guess that’s why we’re attracted to each other.

He just sorta came along one day at the post office when I was sorting mail and files, he was working higher up in the journalism business then I was. He was an editor for some wayward reporter. He wanted to know where he had gotten to and needed help tracking him down.

Now, I may not be Pinkie Pie, but I still wanted to make ponies laugh where I could, and let me tell ya, Blitz needed a laugh here and there. He looked ready to scream because, apparently, this pony was about to cost him his job and he was at his limit.

So, I did what Pinkie did, I made him laugh.

How? Easy, I pulled out all the files he needed from behind his ear. It’s a cliche, but he wasn’t expecting that, and it was enough to get him to laugh. After that, he kept coming down to the office to see me, sometimes he came back with lunch (More than once I had to skip my lunch break so I could get some overtime in).

Of course, I didn’t realize that he….you know, liked me, until one of the other office mares told me point blank.

What can I say? I don’t have a lot of romantic experience.

Anyway, one day, he finally asked me out, and….well, of course I said yes.

….You can wipe that grin off your face now.

Heheee, yeah, I am pretty happy. He’s been so nice to me, even when I’m being really annoying, apparently he’s got such a large threshold for being annoyed that actually enjoys my antics. I know it’s cheesy and doesn’t make any sense, but it means a lot to me. We’ve been seeing each other for about two and a half years now, I’ve even moved into his apartment now...and we’ve even….kissed.

I….I think I might be in love with him.

….Why are you staring at me like that? You look really disappointed for some reason…..wait, what’s with that grin?

W-wedding?! Do….No….It’s too soon!

I….I….breathe….breathe….ahem, yeah. So, moving on from my love life, I’ve gotten an actual job as a reporter. The pay’s good, really good. But the best part is, I get to meet ponies, I get to ask them all sorts of questions, and for the most part, I’m really good at my job. Ponies like talking to me, maybe it’s because I’m really, uh, “bubbly.” Or maybe just easy to talk to, I’ve even gotten A.K Yearling to open up to me, she’s actually pretty energetic once you get to know her, a lot stronger than she looks too. I swear she does pull ups or something.

Oh, I’ve even gotten Countess Coloratura's number!

No, it’s Col-or-a-tu-ra. Why does everypony have a hard time saying her name?

No, Remuneration is a hard word, Worcestershire is harder. Coloratura is easy.

….Thanks, I’m pretty well read, I’ve picked up a few books to help with me with...you know, whether or not I have a soul. What, with being a clone and all.

“I think, therefore, I am.” Yeah, that’s a pretty common one, but it helps.

Anyway…..Oh, thanks. It is a snazzy hat, Blitz got it for me for my birthday.

Oh, it’s November 17th. Don’t ask me why I choose it, it just sorta….fits.

Anyway, back to your original question; the other day, I saw….her. In the diner.

I saw myself.

I saw Pinkie Pie.

She didn’t see me, at least, I think she didn’t. She was talking to some other reporter….I didn’t catch the name, I just got out of there as quick as I could. I didn’t have my usual disguise on, I was just coming back to the apartment from a long shift, I didn’t think that...that...that she would be there.

Ever since, I keep looking over my shoulder, thinking she’s around the corner with Twilight in tow. Or any of her other friends, ready to capture me and...disintegrate me.

….What makes me think they would? Truth be told, I don’t have a lot to go on. Remember what I said about memories? Well, I only vaguely remember those ponies. It’s like looking at somepony’s face you recognize, but you can’t remember their names. I mean, I know their names now because of how famous they are.

….Maybe you’re right, maybe I am being foolish...but...It’s just...It’s hard to describe.

But are you done?

Is this what you wanted, Princess Luna?

The princess of the night calmly took a slip from her coffee, and looked down at the so called “clone” in front of her.

It was, in a way, uncanny the way the mare in front of her resembled Pinkie, but didn’t. For one, while they had the same face, they wore it completely differently. Pinkie was always smiling, laughing, moving from expression to expression in the blink of an eye. Reception kept her’s neutral, calm, consistent, only shifting when the topic became particularly tough for her.

“Well, I have to admit, this is not what I was expecting.” Luna said, “When I felt your nightmares in the dreamscape, I thought it was a child experiencing a recurring nightmare. Not….”

“Me.” Reception said, “So….are you going to….”

Luna raised an eyebrow, “Going to….What?”

“You know….tell Twilight?”

“What makes you think that?” Luna tilted her head, “Do you want me to?”

“No! I don’t...I don’t want to go.” Reception slumped into her seat, “I like my life….I don’t want to leave…”

“Then your secret shall remain safe with me.” Luna said promptly, “It is a….what’s the term nowadays...Doctor-patient confidentiality?”

“Yeah,” Reception sighed, “That’s it.”

“Then your secret will remain safe with me!” Luna replied.

“Oh...good.” Reception said, slinking even further back into her seat.

“....Hm, though you may have her face, I sense you lack her energy.” Luna observed, “Tell me, what’s bothering you? If you are still worried about Miss Pie finding out then I assure you that-”

“It’s not that.” Reception cut in with a wave of her hoof, “It’s just….I haven’t told him.”

“Him? You mean your lover?” Luna asked.

Meekly, Reception nodded, “Yeah.”

Pursing her lip, Luna rubbed the underside of her chin in thought, “Well, I can certainly understand why you wish to keep your past a secret from him. Though, if I may ask, why haven’t you?”

Reception opened her mouth, but no words came out, instead, all she did was bury her face on the table, covering herself with her hooves as she did, “I don’t know.” She muttered, her voice barely audible.

“If I may offer a observation; it is because you’re afraid he’ll reject you.” Luna proposed.

“Who wouldn’t be? I’m a clone, after all. Not even a real pony.”

Luna frowned, “....Tell me, do you care for him?”

Raising her head, Reception raised an eyebrow, “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”

“And, does he care for you?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, he wouldn’t be with me otherwise...so…”

“Then does it matter?”

Reception blinked, before sputtering out a confused response, “What...I don’t….”

“If you care for him, and he cares for you, does it matter if you’re a clone of miss Pie?”

“...I…I don’t…”

“...I must profess, I am no expert on these things.” Luna admitted, “And I am hardly an expert in love like my niece, Cadance. But it seems to me it’s not simply your lover’s ignorance is what troubles you.”

Reception didn’t respond, she merely looked at her drink. At that, Luna pushed forward, “It is also miss Pie that vexes you. You want to talk to her, but you’re afraid she’ll reject you as well.”

“....Is it so wrong to wanted to be accepted for what I am?” Reception asked, “I’ve kept myself hidden for so long I….”

“If I may offer some advice?” Luna asked, to which Reception nodded slowly, “Write a letter to her, tell her who you are, and what you want. You don’t have to send it, put it under your pillow or wherever you decide to put it. Be it the deepest depths of tartarus or the space under your bed. All that matters is that you write it.”

“Then what’s the point if I don’t?” Reception rebuffed, “I’d just be wasting ink then.”

Luna smiled, “That, my friend, is for you to decide.” Standing up and shuffling out of the booth, the princess of the night turned, but took one last glance at the pink clone, “Farewell, Reception. I do hope fortune you finds well.”

“....The next time you’re in town, can I get an interview? I’d figure my boss will love to see a one on one interview with a princess.” Reception asked meekly.

Luna merely smiled in reply, and the dreamscape washed away.

In the warm bed of a Manehattan apartment, a single pink pony woke from her sleep. Nested in the warm arms of her lover, she turned slightly in the covers so she was looking at the ceiling of her room. She stayed that way for a while, before letting out a breath even she didn’t know she was holding.

“.....Well, what I going to do?” She asked herself, then slowly closed her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

The Letter.

Hello, uh, miss Pie. You don’t know me, but I know you. That is to say I….I….Oh, to hay with this. I’m you, or rather, I was you….It’s hard to explain.

You remember the mirror pool? Yeah, I’m one of the clones that you made, I managed to slip away while everypony else was watching paint dry.

I won’t mince words with you, I still have memories of that day. It’s...still something that’s been hanging over me for these past two years...But it’s not all bad! I have a good job, a place to live, I’ve even got a colt-friend! His name is Blitzcrieg, he’s a pegasus like Rainbow Dash (We’ve even kissed once or twice….)

But, uh, anyway, I’m writing to you because I want to just get it off my chest. See, you remember that reporter you were talking to? I was in the same diner when you were being interviewed, in the booth right behind yours, actually.

By the way, the pancakes there are overpriced.

(The Manny’s across the street is way better!)

But uh, yeah. Anyway, that’s the gist of it, I’m a clone of you, and I wanna talk to you….Uh, without Twilight.

Or any of her friends.

I don’t want to be turned into a balloon!

….So….Um, if you want to talk things over, uh, I’ll be visiting Ponyville in a week for the upcoming Apple Harvest. My boss wants an article about the wonders of country farming, yeah, I don’t know what’s up with him either. (I’m a reporter, by the way. I get to visit a lot of fancy parties!)

Anyway, friends, or at least I hope to be.

Your clone,

Reception.

Author's Note

So, what do you all think? Send it? Don't send it? Let me know in the comments bellow.