//------------------------------// // CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Carnies are the Worst (AKA Runaway Train, Never Coming Back) // Story: The What and Whatiful Who // by cosby7 //------------------------------// “Okay, Trixie did not like amusement parks before, but this place is just eight hundred kinds of creepy.” “Mm. I counted nine hundred forty seven, myself.” Trixie and the Doctor’s immediate entry into the fun park styled prison had been largely uneventful. A blinding flash at one point suggested that their picture had been taken, no doubt for some insidious purpose, but that was about it. There were no other inmates, there were no employees, no music, no sound of any kind. Even the buildings that looked promising, when they get there they know that the stores are all closed. Prison or park, this place was far less than heaven. And so they resumed their production of “Walking Until Something Happens: A Doctor Hooves and Trixie Adventure.” Of course, they found the surroundings this time in stark contrast to the inviting fields of Equestria’s past. While there may have been unseen dangers outside Cantaerloth, the scenery had a natural beauty and was almost relaxing to the point of boredom. These surroundings were a far different beast. The unseen dangers were undoubtedly there, but the fact that they were so obvious, yet restraining themselves, made the wait for their attack all the more agonizing. It quickly became apparent that an empty amusement park was not a great deal different from a dead city. Of course, dead cities didn’t have gaudy decorations that made the whole thing even more surreal. So, with little other choice, Trixie and Doctor Hooves allowed themselves to be herded along the paved path through the facade of businesses, buildings, candy shops, and boutiques, each one locked and abandoned. Trixie almost found herself missing the ghastly hologram, if only for the sound of her voice. Then she touched the collar around her neck. There were some things worse than silence. “So, Doctor, tell Trixie about yourself,” Trixie piped up, doing all she could think of to banish the creeping emptiness. “What’s it like being a pony alien?” “Oh, not so much to tell, really. I’m rather boring, honestly.” Obviously he was dodging the question, but Trixie would not allow herself to give up so easily. “Come on, Trixie is sure you have some wonderful stories. How you got here, where you’re from, where you got your TARDIS, where have you traveled, all sorts of things.” “Well, I—” “Trixie has always loved stories.” Really? I know this pony can’t stop talking about herself, but I barely even needed to dodge the question. That was pathetic. It really was. “Oh, is that right?” “Absolutely! You know, Trixie’s father was a storyteller,” Trixie began excitedly in an unintentional mimic of the Doctor’s own lecturing tone. She felt like there was something else she was supposed to be focusing on, but it hardly seemed to matter now. Somepony had asked about her, more or less. It would be rude not to indulge him. “We used to travel all over Equestria, putting on shows. There were many acts in our troupe, but my father’s stories were always what the crowds came for, from young foals to full grown ponies. Trixie inherited all her stage presence from him,” she said, beaming proudly. Even so, Doctor Hooves could not help but feel her smile grew a little sadder the more she spoke. He had been to a lot of places and talked to inhabitants of every one. Talking about the past always seemed to bring that sadness out. Of course, whether they were sad about the past or the present was rarely quite so clear. “It sounds like you love your father very much.” “I miss him sometimes,” Trixie admitted, to herself as much as anypony, “but a mare cannot live in her family’s shadow forever.” She looked even more somber now. “At some point she has to find her own destiny. Chase the things that are important to her.” This time she looked at him dead on, her eyes growing moist at the memories. It didn’t seem like he remembered, but she couldn’t wait any more. The time was right. She had to know. “Doctor Hooves, do you—” “Shh!” Only then did Trixie notice the Doctor had stopped purposefully in the center of the street. He was concentrating on something. Listening maybe? “Did you hear something?” she whispered warily, eyes searching among the alleys and window of the buildings dotting the street. “What? No,” Doctor Hooves finally replied, shaking himself out of the self-inflicted stupor. “I just realized, does that make you a carnie?” “WHAT?” Trixie balked, flustered and angry. “How rude! I—” WOOOO! WOOOOOOO! “Oh, right, did hear that, actually.” Stunned to silence, Trixie turned to look back the way they had come. Sure enough, a massive trolley train, somehow moving without being pulled by anypony, was barreling along the street, headed straight for them. How was that less important than me being a carnie? Wait! No, I’m not! “Trixie!” “I’m not a carnie!” “Perfect! We’re going to jump on the train, alright?” Um, no. “Trixie says no!” “Perfect! Get ready!” he yelled over the sound of the ever closer metal death machine. That sounded like probably the worst idea in the world. And this world seemed to be made of literally nothing but terrible ideas. On reflex, Trixie began casting a spell. She didn’t think she would be able to stop it at this distance and speed, but maybe she could slow it, steady it— “Eaugh!” Sharp pain lanced through her body, starting at the collar around her neck and spreading outward like a web. The more she tried to use magic, the more it became clear: The necklace was not just shocking her when she tried to cast a spell, it was canceling the magic out. Like it was absorbing the magical energy and converting it into pain. So, that wasn’t going to work. “One!” Doctor Hooves backed up, pushing himself into the buildings lining his side of the street. He faced the train, watching it closely, unblinking. Trixie mimicked his movements, save for a bit more of the blinking. “Two!” He crouched, all four legs tensing like coiled springs. The Doctor stayed like that, not moving a muscle. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but he remained still as a statue for what felt like an eternity. “THREE!” The springs released in one powerful move, just as the train careened close enough to smash into the building the Doctor had just moments before stood against. Trixie had less than an instant to realize that was probably the signal to make her own move. Her hooves beat against the paved ground. Since the train had slammed to Doctor Hooves’s side, she would have to make a running start to get close enough to jump. She just barely caught herself focusing on her horn, reflexively using magic to help her. Using her magic, the thing about herself she prided above all else, and she took pride in just about everything about herself, would only do her harm now. The admission sparked her to anger, fueling her. She leaped. Again, the mere moments she spent in the air seemed as though they could have been dragging on for days. Finally, she felt the shock of metal against her chest. She had missed the step, but had managed to grab hold of one of the side railings of the trolley. Her back legs kicked at the air, instinctively searching for any footing that might boost her onto solid ground. It couldn’t be helped though: She was slipping. This is it. I’m going to fall and get crushed under this horrible thing. I bucking hate amusement parks, so much! Then, like a miracle, a hoof grabbed hers. In the next moment, the Doctor was pulling Trixie over the railing and aboard the train. Her torso found itself taut against the railing, allowing her back hooves to find a solid surface in the side of the train. They kicked off, suspending her precariously in the air once more. This time, the brown stallion was there to reel her in safely. In a flash, they were both on board, piled on top of one another, rubbing at their heads in the aftermath of collision. It was all Trixie could do to lament her soreness, but the Doctor wasted little time in moving to action. Pulling himself up, all four hooves hit the floor of the trolly running, moving as quickly as he could in the cramped aisle. As quickly as possible, he made his way to the control console of the train. Once more, he found hooves surprisingly dextrous, taking hold of the controls. Coasting it to a steady stop was a simple matter. “Trixie, are you okay?” he called, making sure the worst of this particular debacle was behind them. When his eyes, bleary with fatigue, found her, she did not look okay at all. Without another word he was at her side. “What is it? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” She looked up at him, her eyes thick with tears. The Great and Powerful Trixie sobbed loudly. “I lost my hat.”