Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
The rhythmic clickety-clack of the wheels as they sped along the tracks gave Trixie some amount of comfort in her otherwise bad situation. She was hunched down in the corner of a boxcar whose door had been carelessly left open.
From up front, the soothing noise of the train’s horn sounded as it sped through a railroad crossing. The scenery outside was nothing but desert--a bleak landscape of rusted stone mesas complemented by a beautifully painted sky.
Trixie leaned back and let the rocking of the train lull her to sleep...
She awakened to the harsh squeal of the train’s air brakes engaging. From the looks of it, they had arrived in Appleloosa.
Finding a tattered grease rag nearby, Trixie pulled it over herself to hide just in case somepony entered the car.
Soon enough, large wooden crates of what smelled like apples were loaded into the car, and the doors shut, though not before an aged brown mule stallion with a weathered face could enter and plop down in the corner opposite Trixie.
“Hello, fellow traveler,” he creaked, holding a magical lighter underneath a small can of stew.
“Um...hi?” Trixie offered, her eyes peeping out of two well-placed holes in the rag.
“Where are you headed?”
“Las Pegasus.”
“Oh! Same here. You foals these days...always trying to strike it rich.”
Trixie chuckled. “You bet.”
“Alright. I can’t stop you from blowing all your bits, but,” he said, leaning forward. “I’ve been there too many times to count. It’s a world of glitz and pomp on the outside, but inside--it’s a haven for vile, deceptive scum who like to prey on every last sucker to come to town...so take my advice, foal...watch your back.”
He banged the can against the wall of the car, causing the top to pop off. He then lifted the can to his mouth and began to greedily work the hearty vegetable and bean mixture out.
The succulent smell of the stew made Trixie’s stomach growl.
“That smells good...uh, what’s your name?”
“Call me Cranky. Cranky Doodle Donkey. And no, you can’t have my supper--first meal I’ve had in a week--but,” he said, raising a hoof and motioning at the crates--how do you like them apples?”
“Thanks, Cranky. Sounds like a really interesting story you got there!” Trixie said as she and the mule hopped out of the boxcar after the train had come to a stop in the Las Pegasus railyards at about midnight.
“Yep. I’ve looked everywhere for her. After this, it’ll just be off to somewhere quiet--maybe Ponyville--to settle down and enjoy my years as an old mule. After all, no use looking anymore for somepony who’s obviously just gone, eh?”
The two crunched through the gravel under-hoof in silence until they reached the broken chain-link fence at the edge of the yards. After a few minutes of searching they found a suitable hole to slip through.
“Well, this is where I’ll be going,” Cranky said, turning left and making his way towards a dimly-lit shanty town on the outskirts of Las Pegasus.
“Good luck, then!” Trixie called, turning right and heading in the direction of the bright lights of the famed Las Pegasus strip.
A few minutes of walking later, Trixie found herself surrounded by glittering, tall emporia of everypony’s rags-to-riches dreams.
“The MLP Grand...the Mareage...the Coltagio...” she whispered under her breath, building-gawking. She came to a stop in front of the Coltagio's large fountains, which were putting on quite an elaborate water show.
‘This looks good,’ Trixie decided. She made sure her bag of bits was safe, then pushed open the casino's large glass doors and entered.
Her breath was taken away as her eyes fell upon the enormous room below. There were large green tables at which ponies were playing cards, odd-looking machines with levers, upright spinning wheels...
Trixie was snapped out of her trance by the desk clerk.
“May I help you?”
‘Right,' Trixie remembered. ‘I’m underage.’
“Uh...my mother is, um...here. I’m supposed to, uh...meet...her?”
The clerk lowered her red butterfly glasses and narrowed her eyes. “Sure,” she said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Father?” Trixie tried.
“I see,” the clerk said, picking up a gossip magazine and opening it.
A stallion dressed in grungy street attire entered behind her. He carried a large bunch of balloons.
“Balloon delivery,” he announced.
“Go on down,” the clerk replied absentmindedly. Trixie saw her opportunity, ducked her head, and slipped down the stairs to the casino floor hidden by the larger stallion.
At the bottom, he turned and made his way to a service entrance. Trixie went up to the nearest machine, which as labeled “SLOTS.”
She dug out her purse of bits and dropped a coin into the machine. It beeped, and the handle lit up. Trixie noticed that it was labeled “PULL.”
She pulled it.
Immediately, three wheels on the screen began turning. After a while, they stopped, each displaying a different picture--a cherry, a cowbell, and the number seven.
Nothing came out of the tray at the machine’s base.
‘I guess that means I didn’t win. Oh, well, I still have 999 left.’
Trixie gave the slot machine another bit and pulled the handle.
After just three minutes of feeding the accursed machine, Trixie had only 100 bits left.
‘Must be rigged,’ Trixie decided dejectedly as she stood and looked for some other game that might be a little more forgiving. She turned a corner and bumped into the balloon delivery stallion. He released the balloons, and they drifted up towards the ceiling.
“Watch it, bud!” she yelped.
“Who you callin’ bud, pal?” the stallion retorted.
“Who you callin’ pal, friend?”
“Who you callin’ friend, mule?”
“Don’t call me a mule!”
“I just did call you a mule!
“Alright, you two. Break it up,” came the gruff voice of a security guard.
“Fine. I have a very important client expecting these balloons. I don’t have time to deal with you...circus animals,” the stallion said, retrieving his load and trotting off.
“Balloon colt! He’s a balloon colt!” Trixie shouted after him.
“As for you, filly, I don’t know how you get down here, but you’re leaving. Right now.”
“Hmph.”
Out on the streets, a chilly wind began to set in, the height of the buildings turning the strip into an enormous wind tunnel. The ponies out and about pulled up the collars of their coats and began to shuffle at a faster clip towards their destinations.
It was then that Trixie realized that she had no place to go for the night. The hotels were all way too expensive, and the dark crevices here and there didn’t look too inviting.
A peculiar sound caught her ears.
“Come one, come all! Come and witness the amazing magic of Swirlstar the Mustachioed!” cried the voice of a street hawker.
Trixie, intrigued, entered the small crowd that had formed around the cardboard soap box that a unicorn stallion was standing on. He conjured a bouquet of flowers and gave it to a mare standing in the audience.
“Ooh!” the ponies chorused, as “Swirlstar the Mustachioed” set off a pyrotechnic display of swirling fireworks around himself.
“That’ll be ten bits each, now,” the stallion said as some of the “audience members” standing in the back moved to block the exit and collect payment from the few, now-intimidated ponies who were legitimate watchers.
‘Such a con scheme,’ Trixie mentally laughed as she teleported away just outside of the assistants’ reach and ran off down a side alleyway nearby. She soon came across an empty wagon, which, thankfully, had a small interior cabin. Desperate for shelter, Trixie climbed in and shut the creaky door behind her.
All alone, Trixie had some time for private thought.
‘But wait, Trixie! You could perform! You’re great at parlor tricks! You’ve got a wagon! All you need now is a stage name...’
“That’s it!” she cried joyously after a few moments of thought. “The Great and Powerful Trixie!”
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Trixie is unlucky when it comes to gambling.
2275475
I'd say that luck isn't usually by her side at all.
2275475
Indeed.
2275593 You know, when I first read this, I thought it was a story where we were suppose to hate Trixie. But now I see that we have to feel sorry for her, and I feel sorry for Twilight too.
Just think about it, Trixie was given a chance to become Celestia's student, but was kicked out because of the fact that she is not the Element of Magic, now she lives on the road trying to make a living.
For Twilight, I feel sorry for her because she never asked for any of this, all she wanted was to be friends with Trixie and study, but now because of Celestia, Trixie now hates Twilight.
But for Celestia, all we want to do is to punch her where the sun don't shine, even though she could easily banish us to the sun.
2275792
Yeah, I wanted people to be torn between Trixie and Twilight while at the same time hating Celestia. She's so much fun to write for as a well-meaning bitch.
2276385 At least she means well. unlike some antagonists.
I can't wait to see what our two protagonists go through next!
(I also hope that eventually Trixie and Twilight will form a true friendship.)
Hmmmm.... Is it me or Celestia can troll without even try?
Okay, maybe it's just me, but wouldn't it be much smarter of Celestia to give Trixie to Luna as a student? Luna gets a new (and a much needed!) friend and Trixie gets to stay in Canterlot and learns something new from a different perspective (I always had it in my headcanon that Luna should be good with different illusion magics, which is also Trixie's talent). That would be a win-win for everypony! But no, Celestia just had to be a bitch...
I think the movie reference is from Oceans Eleven or Twelve or possibly Thirteen... Do I win the cookies?
2275475
Bad Luck? Trixie does not know the concept of bad luck. That implies she has good luck at all.