Tale II: I'm Always Right, Part II
~BlackRoseRaven
Everything felt wrong. He knew it should all feel right, but instead, everything felt wrong.
Torque was having a hard time convincing himself that it wasn't the fact that Charm and Pickle weren't arguing with him that was so wrong, it was everything else. The carnival was too nice, and the ringmaster and the other leaders of this demented little circus were nowhere to be found. All he saw were cheap seasonal hires working booths and stalls and rides, none of who seemed to know anything about what was going on.
The small stallion bit his lip as he looked back and forth nervously: it was getting dark. They were going to have to leave the carnival soon, whether he liked it or not. The carnival did close at night, didn't it? Yes, that was why they were going to have to leave, because the carnival was closing, not because he wanted to, not because he was exhausted, not because he was afraid of what this place might become after dark.
“The... the carnival is shutting down.” Torque said as he came to a stop outside the food tents: tents that were busy serving ponies, brightly-lit and happy. The whole place was warm with gaiety, as a matter of fact, and ponies still passed constantly by in knots and groups.
“Oh, okay.” Charm nodded in agreement. “If you say so.”
“Okay! I'm ready to leave when you are!” Pickle added, and for a moment Torque looked back at her with hope: was that a hint of disappointment in her voice?
“We don't have to if you don't want to!” he blurted, before he could stop himself.
But Pickle only smiled at him, erasing any hopes he had when she chirped: “Whatever you think is best, Torque, because you know best!”
“Oh.” Torque mumbled, then he sighed and said, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm: “Well, let's... let's go then. We... there's no point in lingering here.”
They agreed: Torque didn't even have to look at them to know they agreed. They had stopped arguing with him, stopped advising him, stopped telling him he was overreacting... stopped being Pickle and Charm, because all Pickle and Charm had ever done was fight with him and ruin his ideas and... balanced him out, for lack of a better phrase.
He felt miserable. He didn't even know why he did, but he did. He hated it: he hated the way he felt, he hated how tired he was, he hated how they had run all over this stupid circus and hadn't found the ringmaster and it was getting dark and he was afraid and everything was wrong. He hated the fact that he had told Pickle to go get him a drink and she had, without spilling a drop, without a complaint. He hated the fact that he'd complained about them being useless, and Charm just apologized.
Being right hurt. Being in complete control made him feel... guilty. And when he looked at Charm and Pickle and saw them just droning on, doing whatever he told them to, he felt awful. He felt awful because he wanted to yell at them to do things, and frightened of the fact he knew they would. Without question, they would.
He was no leader. Maybe he'd always been aware of that: sure, every now and then he got something right, but it wasn't like that was even saying all that much. He only ever figured things out because he had Charm and Pickle to argue with him, to moderate him, and... to give him motivation, really. Because he always wanted to prove he wasn't wrong or that he knew what he was doing or he could figure things out himself.
Now he didn't have any of that. They just agreed with him, no matter what he said or did. It made him feel sick to his stomach.
So what else could be possibly do? This was all his fault, wasn't it? He had dragged them here in the first place. And maybe some part of him had wanted this: well, he had gotten what he desired most, hadn't he? Pickle and Charm, listening to him.
His heart's desire. Really, was that what this was?
But then again, he did always have to be right. And he did wish they would just listen to him... but not like this. He hadn't wanted it to be like this.
They headed back to the carnival gates, Torque subdued, Charm and Pickle almost their usual selves: almost, but they never got loud enough to bother him, they never went wandering off on their own, they never said or did... anything on their own. They were just there.
That made it feel like they weren't really Pickle and Charm at all.
Torque scowled as he lingered in front of the gates: there were more ponies leaving than coming in, but there was still more than a trickle entering through the gates, he noted. Maybe the carnival wasn't going to shut down in the evening. Maybe it would just keep going all night long...
The last thing he wanted to do was stick around into the night, though. This place was weird enough during the day. He didn't want to think about what kind of freaks might come out here at night.
He couldn't help but look at the ticket taker's gate, and he scowled as he saw that the green unicorn was gone: there was some other pony there now, taking bits and giving tickets. He thought briefly about trying to interrogate this new pony, or going back into the carnival to find the weird stallion he wanted to blame for this entire mess...
But it wasn't his fault at all, was it? Everything was all his fault, for coming here. But that horse had known something! Maybe if he could find him again...
How long was the carnival in town? Weren't they supposed to pack up and leave soon? What if they left before he had a chance to fix things, to solve this mystery?
But he didn't think he could stay here much longer tonight. That was just asking too much. It was bad enough being here as it was, and all he wanted to do was go home and give up.
Pickle would refuse to leave. Charm would encourage him. But even though he knew that and what they would say, somehow it just made the pain of the fact that those two were basically being the opposite of who they were supposed to be, of the ponies he had always known, who had always driven him and... just made him a better pony in general... it made all that worse. So much worse, and so much harder to overcome.
Torque bit his lip, then he looked back at them and blurted: “Why can't things just go back to the way they were before?”
“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” Charm apologized. “Did we upset you?”
“Sorry Torque! I don't know what for, but I really am!” Pickle added ,with a smile and such honesty that it nearly broke Torque's heart.
But he only grimaced and looked sharply away, scowling even as he rubbed roughly at his eyes and muttered: “You're... you're such idiots.”
Charm and Pickle only agreed with him, with smiles, with nods. He hated that. Pickle should be laughing and Charm should be gently chastising him, and it just all felt wrong.
“Let's go.” Torque mumbled, stalking his way out of the exit gates. It was the wrong thing to do, and he knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he felt beaten. He was afraid. He wasn't strong enough to handle this on his own, an all he could do was run away.
No, he was... he was just going to get his bearings, that was all. He would figure things out tonight, and once he had more answers and some sleep – because oh, it had been a long, exhausting trek all around the Carnival today, learning all its ins and outs! – then tomorrow he would return and fix everything. He just needed to get away.
He couldn't stand looking at Pickle and Charm anymore.
He bit his lip, looking back at them as they stood with the lights of the carnival at their back, how they seemed so large and alien with their faces in shadow, the light glowing around their profile. He studied them silently for a few moments, then said finally: “Go... go home. I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay Torque! See you tomorrow.” Charm said brightly.
“Yep! Talk to you then!” chirped Pickle.
And without another word, without so much as a glance at him, the two left him, heading off down the beaten path back towards Canterlot. Torque watched them go before he bit his lip, and then he forced himself to take a breath before he turned away and headed in the direction of his own house.
It was a lonely walk: he wasn't used to walking alone. He always insisted he was fine, but Pickle would bounce along at his side and Charm would follow behind, reasoning that he liked walking with his friends, and Pickle would probably need somepony to walk her home anyway. And they'd have the same argument they always did: why didn't Pickle just walk home then?
Well, she wanted to walk with him.
But they lived in opposite directions!
She liked to walk, though.
She was wasting Charm's time!
Charm would butt in that he was fine and happy to spend some extra time with them.
Blah, blah, blah.
But now here Torque was, walking home alone, just like he'd always wanted.
It just felt so wrong.
It wasn't that he was afraid of the dark or anything. But it was eerie to walk alone in this deepening twilight when he was so used to having other voices around him. Pickle and Charm were just always there, always... telling him what to do or correcting him or just...
Not arguing, no. He always took it like they were arguing with him, but they really did just want to help, didn't they? It wasn't that they thought their way was better: sometimes they were just right. Sometimes he breezed right past what the right thing was.
Sometimes he was just an idiot.
Torque spent the entire walk home trying to ignore himself and the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was strange how he barely recognized the old house at night: lights gleamed in the windows, but it seemed the furthest thing from welcoming. He lived far away from anyone else, from Canterlot or Ponyville, stuck with his mother. Stuck: that was the story of his life, wasn't it?
He sighed as he pushed the creaky gate open, making his way to the door and biting his lip before he steeled himself and pushed inside. His mother could be so difficult sometimes and he hated the way she talked to him and having to explain every little thing-
“Is that you Torque?” she called.
Who else would it be? He wanted to snap back, but he withheld it and replied glumly: “Yes, mother.”
Now she would start with the- “Alright, Torque, I just wanted to be sure.”
And then silence.
Torque stood uneasily in the entrance, fear nibbling at him as his whole body tensed up: was she okay? Had something happened? That wasn't like her at all. No questions, no ribbing, no chastising for forgetting to oil the gate for the hundredth time or skipping out on his chores...
Torque nervously made his way inward, heading to that living room: it was the inner sanctum of his house, where his mother had always ruled from. And there she was on her throne, the cushions of the couch long shaped to her body, her knitting needles clicking together as she crocheted or purled or ribbed or whatever it was that she did.
The old mare looked at him with those wise old eyes of hers: those eyes had always pierced him right down to the soul. It had always frustrated him: she always knew just how to push him and just where, and it drove him mad.
And for the first time, those eyes didn't seem to dig right through him as he looked uncomfortably at her, before he blurted: “Are you alright?”
“Fine, dear.” she said, and he waited for her to laugh or tease him, but she only smiled and said no more.
He lingered, waiting, waiting, like it would make something happen. But she calmly went back to knitting, and he bit his lip, shifting back and forth on his hooves before he asked in spite of himself: “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Torque. Are you well? Do you need something?” she asked.
“I... fine. I just... need a glass of water.” Torque mumbled, rubbing at his head before he grimaced, waiting for her to say, just like always, well go and get it yourself.
She looked up at him, then smiled, and for a moment he felt a weird stinging hope, as if he wanted-
She stood up and left the room, and Torque stared after her. He heard a clink of glassware, and a hiss of water, and then the tap-tap-tap of hooves before she returned and offered it to him.
Torque shakily took it in his hooves, not trusting his concentration right now as he swallowed thickly, staring back at his mother as she smiled at him. “You look a little peakish, Torque. You should get some rest.”
“Y-Yes. Yes. I suppose I should.” Torque muttered, looking down at his glass of water. He squeezed it slowly in his hooves, then forced himself to steady enough that he could lift it with telekinesis, almost stumbling out of the room.
He looked back, hoping to catch a grin, a smirk, even a glare, but all he saw was a smile.
He supposed this was how he'd always imagined other mothers acted. How he'd always wanted her to act. And oh, it made him afraid and feel sick to his stomach, as he hurried his way through the house to his room, slamming the door with a gasp and clenching his eyes shut as he anticipated the yelling to be careful, but that yelling never came.
He nearly dropped the glass of water on his table, then he shook himself out before he stumbled over to his bed, lowering his head and muttering: “It's fine, it's fine. It's all fine. I should be happy. This is better, right?”
Torque dropped his flank on his bed, looking around his room: a room that still looked almost like a foal's room, with the tattered, colorful wallpaper and the never-updated furniture, some of it still plastered with crayon from when he had been an overactive foal. The walls were layered with drawings and schematics and vague ideas that he promised he would finish one day, but he knew in some part of himself he never would.
He rubbed at his face, then looked at the door, and he tried his hardest to think of all the things he'd always wanted. Maybe his mother would answer all the questions he had instead of just deflecting; maybe she would actually respect him now, treat him like more than just some servant.
But somehow, that thought made him feel sick to his stomach.
Pickle, Charm, and his mother... what about other ponies? Had they been affected too? Could this be the world he wanted, the world where he was respected, where people recognized that he knew what was best, that he was always right?
Torque smiled queasily, looking down at his hooves and shivering a little. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, then simply dropped back in his bed, closing his eyes and covering his face.
He'd figure it all out in the morning. That was what he'd do. Delay everything until the morning. That was best.
He knew what was best, right?
Right?
Torque woke up in the morning and convinced himself that everything was going to be okay. If everyone thought he was always right, then he'd just his his rightness to make everything... right. It was that simple, wasn't it?
And he could use it to get answers!
And anything else he wanted, really...
But the last thought made him feel uneasy. There was something about it that made him feel sick, like it would be crossing a line that he wouldn't be able to come back from.
Besides, it wasn't worth thinking about. He was going to fix this. This wasn't what he wanted, anyway, he wasn't really being acknowledged as right, they were just... babying him, and the last thing he wanted was to be babied!
Torque mumbled and nodded to himself as he left his room, biting his lip and almost creeping down the hallway before he winced as he heard his mother call from the kitchen: “Is that you, dear?”
“Uh, yes, mother! I'm just... going out.” Torque blurted, preparing the usual litany of excuses for why he couldn't-
“Alright dear. Take care.” his mother said.
Torque winced and bit his lip, then he scrambled towards the exit. He slammed through the door and shoved it closed behind him, not knowing why it bothered him so much that his mother wasn't being loud and annoying and obnoxious...
He didn't like it. He didn't know why he didn't like it. He hated it when she argued with him and annoyed him and teased him... didn't he? Yes, of course he did, it didn't make sense otherwise. Did it?
What kind of idiot enjoyed arguing all the time?
Torque shook his head, then he brushed himself off and made himself take a breath before he headed out to the road. He lingered, however, looking away from everything he'd known and out into the distance.
He could run away. Especially if it was more than Pickle and Charm and his mother who were going to treat him like he was always right. He could run away and start a new life somewhere, being or doing whatever he wanted.
And yet the thought barely made his hooves shift. Sure, part of him wanted that, thought it would be a grand adventure, but... it would also be running away, and he knew he'd miss this place, miss his friends, and as much as he wanted to be right, he was afraid that if the wrong people started thinking he was right all the time...
He talked tough, sure, but he didn't really want to hurt anypony. He just wanted...
Torque grumbled under his breath, then he scowled as he looked up at the carnival as he drew nearer to it. Yes, the source of all his sorrows: the carnival that had likely ruined thousands of lives, just like they had ruined his!
Torque marched towards the gates, not looking where he was going as he glowered through the cheap fencing, and then he squawked when he accidentally ran right into a mare, nearly knocking himself over and making her wince as she stumbled and snapped: “Do you mind?”
“You bumped into me!” Torque immediately blurted in defense.
“Oh.” the mare said, and then she apologized: “I'm sorry.”
Torque stared at her, and she looked uncomfortably back before he said disbelievingly: “You too?”
“I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean.” the mare said awkwardly. “Are you... okay?”
“Oh, fine. Fine, yes, fine.” Torque looked at her lamely, and then he asked: “How do you know who I am?”
“Everyone knows you, Torque.” she answered, sounding surprised. “You're the... always right pony, isn't that right?”
“What if I said no?” Torque couldn't help but retort.
But the mare only laughed at this, smiling and gushing: “You're so funny!”
“Hey, what's going on?” asked a grouchy-looking stallion, who approached and scowled at Torque. Torque winced a bit as the stallion asked: “Is this guy bothering you?”
“You're... bothering ponies!” Torque snapped, then he winced back, fully expecting to get stomped into the ground.
But instead, the stallion blinked and then looked awkwardly away as the mare chastised: “Stop bothering ponies!”
“I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was. I don't want to screw today up.” the stallion said honestly.
“Well, you did.” huffed the mare. “I don't get why you have to be such a jerk all the time!”
Torque winced as the mare continued to scold the stallion, and he awkwardly slipped away, hurrying towards the gates of the carnival. Without thinking, he ran past the line, then he leapt in front of several ponies, who shouted at him before he snapped: “It's... it's an emergency!”
And they all backed off, just like that, nodding and whispering amongst themselves, and it almost made Torque's heart leap up into his mouth. It all just felt so wrong, and he hated the way they looked at him.
On the rare occasion he won an argument, they looked at him with a grudging, honest respect: it was something he had earned, something he could feel proud of, and he relished that.
This was... fake. This felt patronizing, agonizing. Did he really have anything at all if he could have anything in the world with a word?
“That's a retarded thought.” commented a voice, and Torque glared up at the ticket taker, who looked back at him grouchily with his eerie eyes.
“You're retarded!” Torque blurted out, before his eyes widened and he added in horror: “Can you see into my mind?”
“Yeah. You like stallions.” the ticket taker retorted, and Torque stared for a few moments before the unicorn said tiredly: “Foal tickets are four bits.”
“I'm... I'm not a foal” snapped Torque, glaring at the unicorn before he grabbed at himself, then he blushed as he realized he'd forgotten his saddlebags, his tracking device, his bits... everything Charm reminds me to get. Where are they, anyway?
He looked lamely back over his shoulder, and the ticket taker droned: “Please don't hold up the line, sir.”
“I'm not!” Torque snapped.
“You are.” the ticket taker replied patiently. “Four bits.”
“I'm... I'm not! You are! I'm not a foal, either!”
“You are. Yes, sir, I understand, you're a very big boy. Four bits.”
“You... you...” Torque spluttered to a stop, then stared up at the sour-looking ticket taker before he clawed his way almost on top of the counter and grabbed the stallion, making him wince as he was jerked down against the tabletop, then nearly dragged out of the booth. “You're arguing with me!”
“Carnival rules.” droned the ticket taker., before he winced when the little stallion furiously shook him, making the ticket taker's head and body rap against the tabletop as Torque glared up at him angrily.
“You did this! I was right all along! You're the evil behind all this!” Torque snapped as he feebly swung a hoof against the green unicorn's head, to no avail: it only made the larger stallion snort and roll his eyes.
“I am not. I don't have that kind of power. Again, not even supposed to be here.” retorted the ticket taker, before he sighed and gestured grumpily towards the carnival. “Go find Veritas and whine to him. You can go inside on me.”
“I... I don't need your charity!” snapped Torque as he shoved the ticket taker back into the booth, even though he clearly did. He looked awkwardly back and forth, and then he huffed and added crankily: “You... let these other ponies in too!”
“No.” the ticket taker said shortly.
“Please?” whined Torque.
The ticket taker rolled his eyes, then refocused his eerie gaze on Torque, saying dryly: “For someone who doesn't like his new reality, you sure seem intent on abusing it with all the wrong people.”
“That's why I don't like it!” Torque shouted out, stomping his hooves angrily, and the ticket taker cocked an eyebrow. “It's not... I keep screwing things up! I get it! I'm a screwup! I screw everything up! Is that what you want to hear?”
The ticket taker studied him for a few moments, and then a smile quirked at his mouth as he said mildly: “This isn't a moral lesson. This is you, getting your heart's desire. It's not my fault that most ponies have stupid, selfish desires, that they want band-aids and pats on the head instead of real help. You got what you paid for.”
Torque glared at the ticket taker, and then he snapped: “Well, I want to give it up! I... let someone else have their heart's desire or whatever that is! I don't want this anymore!”
“You can't just do that.” the ticket taker said pettishly, before he winced in surprise as a grinning earth pony in a top hat popped up in the booth next to him and lightly tapped the green unicorn's nose with his cane.
“Ah, but why not?” Veritas extolled, winking at the ticket taker as he threw a companionable foreleg around him, and the ticket taker scowled horribly, leaning as far away as he possibly could even with that iron grip keeping him uncomfortably close. “What could be more generous than giving up your one true desire to some other pony?”
“It is not my true-” Torque clamped down on those words, and then he ground his teeth together before he nodded and said grumpily: “Yes.”
“Yes!” declared Veritas cheerfully, before he winked and asked, as his cane floated out to lightly bop Torque on the nose: “But are you sure you want to give this up?”
Veritas leaned forwards: he smiled, but the way the shadow of his hat fell over his face made him almost sinister, transformed those friendly features into something intimidating and devilish. His eyes gleamed, his teeth bared in a grin that was too large, his voice scintillating and seductive as he whispered: “You could have anything and everything, you know. No one to ever bother you again. It's what you dream of, so why not make those dreams real? The world is your oyster... or rather, your servant. You could be a king. You could have pretty – the prettiest! – of playthings, all to yourself. Sir, we don't scrimp or judge or hold back when we give you what you want. We give you what you want, sir, and what we have to offer is everything.”
Torque shrank away, trembling a little, eyes wide as he stared up at the ringmaster, who looked back down at him, grinning, predatory, expectant. His legs shook, and he wanted to run away: that would be easier. He could run away, and live out a life of luxury, always being right, winning every argument, proving he was the mastermind he had always believed himself to be...
But would he ever be able to look at Pickle and Charm again? Would he ever be able to live with himself?
This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't what he wanted at all.
“I don't... want this. Please take it back. Please.” Torque whispered.
Veritas narrowed his eyes, and Torque whimpered before the ringmaster suddenly leaned back with a cheery smile and a wink, tapping Torque's nose again with his cane as he said kindly: “Don't look so frightened, young stallion! Very well, for today, and today only, we'll set things back to the way they were. Normally, of course, that's quite impossible, but since you so generously want to give your gift to another, well, I think that counts as a charitable enough act.”
Torque smiled awkwardly, and then Veritas hopped away, the ticket taker sighing in relief and shaking himself out. Torque looked expectantly back and forth, but then he blinked as he realized Veritas had simply vanished, before looking up as the ticket taker said: “Go inside.”
“Uh... yes.” Torque said, deciding not to argue. He turned towards the gates, took a deep breath, and walked through.
He clenched his eyes shut expectantly, then scowled as he looked back and forth uneasily. Nothing had happened. He hadn't felt anything at all. What was going on?
“Hey! Hey!” Torque began to turn, then he yelped when a hoof grabbed his shoulder.
“Hi, Torque!” Pickle greeted, and the stallion dumbly spun around to see Charm and Pickle. “I mean, we already said hi, but hi again!”
“Hi.” Torque said lamely.
“Hello, Torque!” greeted Charm.
“What... what are you doing here?” Torque asked dumbly.
“Well, you asked us to meet you here.” Charm said reasonably.
Torque felt his stomach clench, before he blurted out: “No I didn't! I mean... I didn't mean to! I didn't want you to!”
Charm slowly tilted his head, and then he asked gently: “Are you okay, Torque? Not to argue with you, but you did the other day, remember? You wanted to check out this carnival.”
Torque stared at Charm.
Pickle slowly leaned in and peered at Torque, then slowly leaned over to Charm and whispered: “I think he's gone crazy.”
Charm began to open his mouth, then winced in surprise when Torque leapt forwards and hugged him, staring down at his friend as Pickle confirmed: “Yep. He's gone loopy.”
“Shut up.” Torque mumbled, before he shoved himself away and cleared his throat, saying firmly: “The sky is green.”
“You're silly.” Pickle said cheerfully, craning her head up to stare directly into the sun. “It's hurty, duh!”
Charm reached over and gently covered Pickle's eyes before he asked, honestly concerned: “Are you okay, Torque?”
“Yes. Yes, I'm fine, Charm, I'm fine. I think... I think I'm fine.” Torque stammered out, giving a wide smile of relief, before he cleared his throat and asked: “What would you like to do?”
“Well, I'm happy to do what you want, Torque. But it's a carnival, so maybe we could enjoy ourselves.” Charm suggested.
“Rides! Candy! Puking!” blurted Pickle excitedly. “I want to go on a ride and then eat ten tons of cotton candy and then go on the teacups and vomit!”
“That's disgusting.” Charm said almost tenderly.
“I hate you both.” Torque said, before he mumbled under his breath. “I'm glad you're my friends.”
Both Pickle and Charm looked at him curiously, and then Torque cleared his throat before he shoved his way past them. Pickle hopped happily after him, and Charm came last, humming cheerfully, before he winced a bit as a mare bumped into him, dropping the book she had been reading.
“Oh, sorry!' she exclaimed.
“Oh, that's fine, no harm done.” Charm replied with a smile, scooping up her book before he offered it to the purple mare, and then his eyes went wide with excitement and he bounced a little on his hooves as he squeaked out a name.
The mare smiled awkwardly at him, then took her book and mumbled something before she scampered away
Veritas chuckled, watching from a perch high and far away on the top of the ferris wheel, grinning his bright and cryptic grin as he looked out into the distance, then remarked, seemingly to no one at all: “No matter how great or small, we see to it that you get your heart's desire fulfilled here at the Cirque du Noir.”
Veritas winked, and then, with a click of his heels, he turned sharply and vanished from sight, as the ferris wheel began to turn, and the music of the carnival blared, and the revelers came and went, bathing in both the light and darkness of the carnival that promised to fulfill your deepest desires...
As long as you were willing to pay the price.