It had been five years since she had run away from Ponyville. The incident with the Ursa Major- no, Ursa Minor had been a blow to Trixie's reputation. She was frightened at first, afraid she would fade into obscurity because her image had been tarnished. She wanted to be remembered; to become a legend. That was why she ran away.
She had to contain the damage before it had spread too much. She normally wouldn't call herself a doctor, but she feels she successfully curbed any and all rumors that she was The Weak and Powerless Trixie. But... it was hard and she felt extremely lucky. She couldn't have done it without her charisma, magical skill, and showmareship either. She was stubborn. She probably still is.
Sure, it was temporarily halted by her time in a rock farm and her time as the despot of Ponyville, not to mention that it had taken her months to scrounge up enough money to buy a new cart, but it was worth it. Everything she did was worth it. She was back on track to greatness, and soon everypony would remember her. ...Eventually.
In a way, she would have to thank that one purple unicorn who showed her up and, a few years later, tricked her into taking off the amulet. Trixie was taught a very important lesson the day the Ursa came: To be more careful. But if she couldn't tell stories of herself anymore, what stories could she tell? She had thought about it long and hard when she was digging up rocks at the rock farm.
A knock on her cart door, or her home door, snapped her out of her nostalgic thoughts. "Trix, you're on in three!"
Trixie stopped admiring herself in her mirror and cantered over to the door, her pink magic grasping it and opening it. There, she saw a silver pegasus with an unkempt mane and orange eyes. His name was Foot Note, he was the ticket to her success. His cutie mark was a piece of paper with a magnifying glass over it, signifying his occupation as a lawyer.
But with all cutie marks, there was leeway. Just because his cutie mark meant that he was good at finding inconsistencies doesn't mean he can only use those skills in court. Whenever Trixie weaved a story, Foot Note was always there to make it more believable. That's why she didn't run into any more trouble. That's why she never bothered to change the type of stories she told.
"The Great and Powerful Trixie is thankful for your generous warning, Foot Note," she responded.
"Anytime," Foot Note responded back. Trixie decided to mentally prepare herself. She mentally went over what story he would tell and what magic would accompany it.
She had decided to tell her Marecago crowd the tale of herself saving her family from a group of manticore. Sure, it wasn't as grandiose as she wanted it to be, but it was till believable. Trixie worried it might be a bit boring, so she had to be sure that she peppered her story with as many enticing and dazzling illusions as possible.
She put on her cape and hat. They weren't exactly the same as the ones she had left in Ponyville. She lost her original ones, but that didn't mean she couldn't buy any more. The hat and cape had always been an essential part of her shows. For her first shows after the incident in that backwater town, she felt like something was missing when performing. Of course, she knew what she was missing as the hat and cape were the first things she had bought when she had enough money.
Five years, and she was back to where she had been before. Just as long as absolutely nothing went wrong with her career ever again, she estimated it'd be as little as twenty years before she could ever hope to perform in Canterlot. That's the future she hoped to attain, but now was time to face the crowd. Her crowd! Showtime!
It had been five years since she had run away from Ponyville. The incident with the Ursa Major- no, Ursa Minor had been a blow to Trixie's reputation. No... It was a blow to her life. She had been embarrassed and cast out of Ponyville forever. She had run away, leaving everything behind her: Her cape and hat, her cart, her home, her reputation, her pride, everything that had meant something to her.
She had nothing else but her own body and voice now. Every day was a struggle to her. She was lucky to even eat a decent meal. Most days, she had to steal in order to eat, and even then, it wasn't even that much. Besides, stealing felt like it was beginning to become impossible for her.
She had lived in the alleyways of Hoofington now. News of her lies had spread everywhere by now. There was no hope for her anymore. Her lifelong dream of becoming famous was no longer attainable. Laying down in the grungy backstreets, she looked up at the sky. The stars shone brightly. They were taunting her.
You will never become one of us, they seemed to say.
She glared up at the stars in a jealous fit. "Stop it..." No one responded. She continued glaring as her eyes squinted, hoping she could intimidate the night sky into disappearing. She breathed in deeply and suppressed a whimper from escaping. "I said stop it!" Her voice was strained, trying to hold in everything.
But what was the point? She failed. She truly believed that she was the best and had hope of making it through life satisfied and forever remembered. What she got was just a hard, cruel dose of reality. She was neither great nor powerful. Looking back, all she was was a washed-up annoying bragger with a few cheap tricks. She never deserved anything. Even her parents would be ashamed.
Trixie made some sort of choking noise as everything she tried holding in burst loose as tears made the world go fuzzy for her. The broken unicorn let herself cry under the clear, night sky. No one was waiting for her.
It had been five years since she had run away from Ponyville. The incident with the Ursa Major- no, Ursa Minor had been a blow to Trixie's reputation. No... It was a blow to her life. She had been embarrassed and cast out of Ponyville forever. She had run away, leaving everything behind her: Her cape and hat, her cart, her home, her reputation, her pride, everything that had meant something to her.
Ha! It was to laugh! They ate it all up. Poor Trixie was wandering around homeless, broken, and weak. Pathetic Trixie! Sympathetic Trixie! She who lost it all! The only thing really pathetic about her is the image she wanted for herself.
If Trixie learned anything the day that Ursa came rampaging around, it's that something bad can always be made into something that works. Years after her home was destroyed? She knew her reputation would never recover. She just settled for the next best thing. She had the skills for faking to be pathetic, too. Just because her career as a showmare ended didn't mean she lost her ability to lie and be charismatic and manipulative. Ponies were just as much putty around her hooves back then as they are now.
She smirked as she wormed her way out of her cardboard box. It was very uncomfortable, but it had to do. She had enough money now to buy at least two mansions, but doing so would be bad for her image. She also had to endure soup kitchens and people giving out various items of leftover food. It was still all worth it.
She shook her head as to why she didn't think of this sooner. Back as a showmare, she barely got enough money as she wanted. She had just expected everyone to just believe she was the best on the planet. Arrogance always gets unrewarded while sympathy and pity get far, far more.
So she chose to be weak and pathetic. Trixie floated up a piece of mirror she found a few years back when she first fled to Manehattan. It was cracked and grimy, perfect for such a "broken" mare as herself. Through the grime and crack, she saw herself staring back. Her hair was trimmed to the length of how she always had it, yet it was dirty and messy, as was her coat. She had too much of a belly for somepony who was supposedly starving, but a quick illusion spell rendered her appearance emaciated.
After she was done looking over her appearance, she put the mirror back and levitated out a bag of popcorn, which she got while disguising herself as another pony, which she was able to do thanks to those disguise kits she bought, which she got by, you guessed it, begging until she had enough money. The popcorn was buttery, perfect for her liking. With her daily popcorn munching finished, she hid it away and took on a tired appearance. It was time to trick everyone into giving her food and money yet again.