//------------------------------// // Madness, as you know, is like gravity... // Story: Smile Wide // by AtrenGraves //------------------------------// “You know...you would think...that I'd...ugh...learn.” There wasn't any response, as he slogged his way up to the riverbank, wringing the water from his hair with one hand and trying to keep his coat from getting dragged away by the current with the other. All he actually managed to do was send himself stumbling face-first into the mud. After some spluttered cursing and more than a little flailing, he caught hold of solid ground and pulled himself almost completely out of the water. For a few moments he just laid there, splayed out, his head turned to one side so he wouldn't just suffocate in the muck... “Because that would just be sad.” He grunted, tossing the coat haphazardly toward the treeline before pushing himself up and regaining his feet. “All that...that work? The...mob and the Bat and the...coppers...ha! Done in by mud! What does that say about you, Gotham? Hmm?” Back to the water, now that he had his balance. The mud was a mess...he dropped to his knees dunked his head a few times and did some scrubbing. All of which took care of the mud. And the makeup. “Hmm...” That wasn't ideal. No...not ideal. That was something to...fix. “Heheh...and who's the one with a patron...Dragon? Don't see the Bat with a...a great big dragon of Justice and Order looking out for him...” Bushes rustled. And that was a strange sound, wasn't it? Bushes. Nature. Very different, when it wasn't on fire. Oh, and if it wasn't another pony. Not one of the coppers, no, no...too many sequins for a copper. And too much panic, definitely. He grinned, and clicked his teeth together. “Boo.” The way its legs locked up before it passed out was so hilarious that he spent...quite a bit of time, laughing. Oh, but then it was time to do something...something different. And, well...a pers-pony out in the woods, that had to mean that there was at least a camp nearby. “And I guess I am hungry...” Well then. There was a Plan. The Great and... 'Oh, ponyfeathers, it's too early for that.' With a minor effort, Trixie pushed herself upright...and, much to her relief, found that she was not outside on the river's bank. No, she was quite comfortably ensconced in her caravan, just as she must have been since...the evening before. Of course. And the dream had been exactly that; a dream. A perfectly ordinary, long, exhausting, slightly terrifying...dream. Yes, absolutely nothing more than that. A bad dream, brought about by her foalish decision to go to sleep angry after that disastrous show in that little hayseed town. And, well, perhaps she'd been a bit peeved at her own very slightly flawed decision to follow the rail-line, as it seemed news spread rather faster along those routes, which meant that the simpletons in...oh, whatever it had been called. Something 'clever' involving the town's trade in gems and ore...they had had the utter gall to... Well...it wasn't important. The only thing that was important was that the dream had been...a dream. Yes. Trixie nodded decisively, content with that completely logical reassurance. With a casual and practiced flair, she stepped from the little alcove that housed her bed...and paused, as her cape tugged uncomfortably at her neck. 'Trixie doesn't remember wearing her cape to bed...' It was simply embarrassing to imagine what sort of state of mind she must have been in to do such a...silly...thing... 'Why are Trixie's hooves muddy?' She didn't have more than a few moments to consider that, because her Caravan shifted, first to one side, then the other. The door opened wide, sunlight pouring in and leaving her blinking away spots... “Well now...awake already?” Trixie squinted, cold settling in her stomach as she got a very good look at the hulking...thing that was hunched in her doorway. “And here I was, worrying I'd have to...” She didn't hear the rest, being much too busy blacking out for the second time that morning. The rabbit was better with greens. He wasn't entirely sure what the greens were, but they were...well, green. And while there was an alarming lack of proper knives in the unicorn's...'kitchen'...he was able to get by with his favorite little switchblade. Switchy-twitchy little knife that had al-ways served him well... “Ugh...” Oh, and she was awake! That was good. “Y'know...” He tore another strip of meat from a...haunches, they were called...with his teeth, chewed thoughtfully as the unicorn pulled herself up. Again. “You know...it really is rude, passing out like that.” “Wh...what?” Oh, the wide eyes, and the shaking, and none of it was new. At least this time she was staying awake. “Passing out.” He glowered, gesticulating wildly for a moment with the leg in his hand. “You know I had to carry you aaall the way up from the river? Hmm? And you hit your head, the second time. I was worried you'd die. Then what would I do? Dump you in the river? For the fishes?” An arched brow, and he dropped his plate on the nearby counter with a sharp crack. “Yoouu... are a terrible host.” She jumped, pressed herself back as far as she could...which wasn't really all that far, considering how cramped it was in the caravan. “You...you what? Host? You...carried...” Her eyes were drawn to his food, and, somehow, she managed to pale. “A-and w-w-what are you eat-t-t....eating?” “Uh...rabbit.” He gnawed on the bare end of the bone, smacked his lips appreciatively. “Actually, kind've tasty...once you get rid of the fur. of course. And the skin. The, uh...the organs, too.” “...of course.” Her ears laid back, the fear turning to disgust...then anger? “Of course! It's only Trixie's new luck, after all! Five – five, if you'll believe it – failed shows! In a row! Oh, and it's not enough that they're failures, because suddenly everypony is a comedian, and just mean besides! Being heckled, oh, Trixie can handle, but being laughed off her own stage!?” He actually rocked back as she got to her hooves and started pacing. “The indignaty of it! I haven't been able to afford my favorite sparkling cider for weeks! I've had to repair my own wagon wheel twice now! And the hauling...Trixie used to be able to hire ponies to pull her home for her! Strapping young stallions, more than willing to assist a showmare of my calliber! Do you know what traveling this way does to a hooficure!?” “And now!” She whirled on him with a stormy expression, stomping hard enough to rattle the floorboards. “Now Trixie is...is assaulted in her own home by a...a rabbit eating, rumpled...shaved diamond dog!?” The Joker blinked, twice, sucked his cheek for a moment before waving toward the vanity with the rabbit-leg. “I, uh...also used your stage makeup.” “And it's using my expensive makeup! Poorly!” She slumped, then, the anger draining out entirely. “And my head hurts, and Celestia I think I'm going to be sick, and it's all the dratted Sparkle's fault. Every last bit of it. Well, I hope she's very happy with herself, ruining a simple showpony like she did.” Her tail flicked, ears drooping as she glared at the floor. “I hope she'll feel awful when she finds out what horrible fate she sent me to...me! The Great and Powerful Trixie! Why, I bet she'll never recover after she hears about Trixie's ignoble demise at the claws of such a terrible and ill-mannered brute...” “Y'know...you talk a lot.” And what a pretty speech that had been. “Do you always do that? 'Cause if you do...well, I don't think our little partnership is going to work out.” Heheh...oops. Somebody made a mistake. And the way the gears turned in her head, watching the assumptions twist on themselves, oh...that was icing on the cake. “What?” “Well...” He grinned, and tossed the half-eaten rabbit back on the plate, wiping his fingers on his slacks. “I happen to be in need of a...well, a place to lie low, as it were.” A vague gesture, a twist of the wrist. “And, uh...well, this? This is just the sort've thing the doctor ordered, hmm?” Oh, and she wasn't completely stupid. No, no, vain and a blowhard, sure, but there was that suspicion, there was that uncertainty. “And what does this have to do with Trixie's difficulties and impending doom?” “Hmph...first of all...look, you're a little slow on the uptake? So, uh, I'll put it in layman's terms. I'm not going to kill you.” Maybe. Yet. “Aaand...you were just complaining about the...what was it...” He scowled, snapping his fingers impatiently as if it would spark a memory. “Pulling! That was it, thaaat was...it. Yes. Pulling your eh-hever so lovely home around?” “Yes...” The unicorn answered slowly, because she was obviously a moron. Or maybe she had hit her head harder than he thought? “Is Trixie to take it, then, that you wish to offer your services as a draft...thing?” That earned her an irritated huff, another dark chuckle when she jumped at the sound. “Actually, I thought we would, uh...trade off on that bit. Y'see...I'm feeling generous but that sort of thing only goes so far, doesn't it? Hmm?” “So you wish to hide in Trixie's home and occasionally assist her.” Well, that didn't seem to impress...no, not at all. “Does Trixie truly have a choice?” “Oh, there's always a choice...where would the fun be if there wasn't, hmm? Nowhere, that's where...” He pulled an exaggeratedly thoughtful frown, tapping his chin. “Buuut...I think I could make myself useful. After all, ehehha...what sort of guest would I be if I didn't help out?” “Rather...rude, I would think...” “Perfect!” He grinned, reached out to grab her hoof and shake it vigorously. Her indignant yelp and panicked flailing went entirely ignored. So did the crash and clatter as she pulled free, only to tumble backwards into a cabinet. “Tell you what...I'll even chip in on your next show. I'm something of a performer myself...y'know...” “Wha-” “For nowww, though...for now...” He looked thoughtful, again, standing (carefully, there were pots and pans everywhere, sloppy, sloppy...) and making his way to the door. “I need a couple things that I left behind. Back in a few! Partner!” That expression...that 'deal with the devil' expression...well, that just kept him feeling all warm and fuzzy all the way to the bank. River bank. “Ha!” The Great and Powerful Trixie was most certainly not crying. No, that wasn't it at all. It was the tomato juice that had gotten in her eyes, and left them stinging since before she'd even packed up. Combined with the hot, dry weather (surely the work of some lazy pegasus), it had her eyes watering terribly. Yes, that was it. She would have stopped to take care of it, except she wanted nothing more than to put Dodge Junction as far behind her as possible, as quickly as possible, and until that was done, well, she could suffer with dignity. “Well don't you look a little...worse for wear.” She skidded to a halt...not because she had been moving particularly fast to begin with, but because her caravan wound up rolling for several feet despite her best efforts. The clumsy move left her feeling even more annoyed, and she flushed with embarrasment and anger as she faced the...the... “You.” The big brute had the gall to look confused, pointing at itself as if there could be any doubt who...or what...she was talking to. “Where were you!? Two days of putting up with your company, and the moment we get into town, you...you told Trixie that you would help with the show!” “I'm, ah...certain I said 'might'. 'Might' help.” It winced, but it was such an exaggerated, insincere expression that she was certain anypony would see through it. Let alone a fam...skilled, a skilled showmare such as herself. “It didn't go well?” “No.” She seethed, trodding angrily at the ground. “It did not 'go well'. They threw fruit at me. Ponies do not throw fruit at actual shows! Plants in the audience of a satire do that! That is not acceptable behavior in any real setting!” “Must've been a...aha...a pretty bad act.” He was...he was laughing at her!? And insulting her act!? “It would have been better...” She hissed, practically shaking, “if some poorly dressed clown hadn't stolen all of my fireworks!” “...well, I did do that...” “Why...where are they?” “Mmmm...a few places, ack-shu-ally.” He grinned (that ugly, frightening grin), before gesturing toward the back of the Caravan. “C'mere.” “Where do you think...” He was already out of eye-shot, and she gaped at the...the audacity. But then she shrugged herself free of the yoke, and trotted after him. The sun had been starting to set, and so the horizon in the direction of Dodge was already growing dark. She could still see the dark shape of the town...stupid, backwater little place that it was. “I got to thinking...” She looked back at the stupid thing, as it started rolling up its sleeves. “With all your, uh...'complaining'...about that student of the...heheh, the Big 'C'...” “What about it?” She flinched at the glare it shot her, but felt even more uneasy when it smiled again. “Well...I realized that she sounds like a gen-u-ine hero!” If Trixie had been walking, she would have tripped over her own hooves. “You...that...that purple upstart isn't a hero! She's...she's just a...an annoying librarian with friends in h-high places!” Her eyes were stinging again. “And Trixie has decided that she hates tomatoes!” “Well that's the most reasonable thing you've said all day.” She glared, but he just kept smiling. “I know a thing or two about...about heroes, y'see...and the thing about heroes, the thing that I think you should know...is that they're hypocrites.” “...what?” He sighed, and rubbed at his arms, and did that creepy thing where he sucked on his cheeks and made that smacking sound. “They don't do what they do because...because they actually care. Oh, that's what they tell themselves, sure...but really, they just do it because they like it. They get to point, and smile, and say 'look at what I did oh isn't that great'.” Trixie frowned, because that sounded quite a bit like what she did. Or had done. “Actual heroes help ponies...” “Ha!” She flinched, again, at the sharp sound. “Heroes love helping people! Helping people is the only thing that gives them purpose and meaning.” Her ears laid back as he shot her another grin. “But, uh...y'see, here's the thing...'cause you can't help someone unless they need help...see? Heroes...they need to save pe-ponies” He clicked his teeth. “Ponies...and that means that they need them to be in danger.” He laughed, and the sound sent shivers down her spine, and it only got worse as he continued in that wheedling, sing-song voice that was starting to grate on her nerves. “Deeeeep down, every hero wants others to be in danger. To be dangerous.” His eyes flashed. “That's where we come in.” It took her a second to find her voice, and she was appalled when it squeaked. “'We'?” “Well, you're certainly not friends with that 'purple librarian'.” He shrugged, made another, sweeping gesture. “Sooo...you are her enemy.” He nodded, decisively. “And what's a hero...without a villain?” Trixie realized (and she was kicking herself for not coming to the realization earlier), that this 'Joker' was completely and utterly insane. “And really, what good are you without her?” He continued, and she bristled at the speculative look. “I mean, uh...look at yourself...sad little pony with a cheap act...d'ya wanna know what I think?” “I don't.” “Hrrm.” He pouted, but there was a glint in his eyes...cruel. That was it. That was the thing that she'd been missing the whole time. Everything he did was mocking and cruel, and she hated it being directed at her... “I think...that you need to face the facts.” He spread his arms wide, as if reaching out to grab hold of the horizon. “And I think you know...” A pause, and he shook his head, dropped his arms. “Look, yooouu...you're just turning in circles...like a rat in a maze. Sooo...break out. Live a little! And if you happen to get back at the pony that ruined your show...well...” It was quiet, for a long moment. “None of that explained where my fireworks went.” His 'confusion' was annoying, and no doubt he found it amusing. But then he snapped his fingers, and smiled, and pulled something from his vest pocket, bouncing it off his palm... “Is that my remote lighter?” “I would've called it a detonator.” He grumbled, flipping it over twice more before holding it out. “A little...consolation, for your latest...bad day...uhp!” He snatched it back with a frown, when she tried to take it with her telekinesis, and she huffed in annoyance. “And...a little taste of revenge. I think you might just like it.” He held it out again, and this time let her take it. It was a simple little thing, just plastic and wire and a tiny crystal at the end of a rod. A single button. She used it all the time, when she had to get the timing on her pyrotechnics just right. And...she had a sneaking suspicion of what it would do. She thought of the boring little ponies. The ones who lived in that boring little town in the middle of nowhere, who did nothing but get dusty and sweaty and live their boring little lives. She thought of how she had tried to entertain, to brighten up the dull humdrum, going out of her way to...to make their lives just a little bit brighter with her presence. And she thought of that blasted, spoiled tomato in her mane, and the juice that was making her eyes water again. The button clicked down. “Hey, Brightside...” “Hmm...mmmggnn...” “Hee~eey...you hearin' me, sleepy-head?” “Hrrrmzzzz...” “Well then...WAKE UP!” “Grk-” Brightside hit the floor in an undignified sprawl, and he was left blinking in confusion at the cackling mare in the aisle. “...Haywire?” “Well hey there, Mr. Snoozles.” She leaned down to look him in the eye, tilting her head back and forth. “Have a nice nap?” “It was restful.” He grunted, regaining his hooves with as much grace as he could muster...the others were looking everywhere but at him, so he was certain that each of them had seen the whole thing. “Emphasis on...was.” It was harder than he would have liked to glare at the smiling unicorn, but he managed, all the same. “Do I need to remind you...” “That you're my boss? Nope.” She turned, flicking her tail as she trotted back to her seat, on the other end of the empty car. “Because you're not my boss right now, are you?” He opened his mouth to respond to that, but Cross Stitch cleared his throat and drew his attention. The medic looked more stoic than usual, obviously to avoid showing his own amusement...if he was going to be perfectly honest with himself, Brightside had to admit that it had been funny. But it really wasn't the time... “We're ten minutes from Dodge Junction, sir.” A folded map was passed his way, wrapped in mint-green light. “Ironhoof had a talk with the conductor, and we were referred to an inn, which should prove sufficient for our needs during our stay.” That was good to know. Brightside nodded, once, as he took the map, unfolding it carefully on his seat. “You've made some changes to our route?” “Options, more than anything else. Since our previous assumptions were based on its need to maintain a 'low profile', I added likely paths in the case that it acquires another cart or wagon.” “'Fool me once', huh?” Another nod. “Smart. We'll check with the Sheriff, make sure to keep a lookout for anything that turns up missing...Ironhoof, you spoke to the conductor?” “Uh, yeah boss?” The big earth pony straightened in his seat. “Wanted to know a little more about the Junction, and I figured he'd know.” “And you got some good information.” Brightside turned to glance out the window, scanning the barren terrain as it passed by outside. “But was there any word of something strange along the line, the past few days? This thing likes to make a mess, and a train wouldn't be too hard to sabotage if you knew what you were doing...” “...you think this thing does?” “Are we really going to risk assuming it doesn't?” He perked up, slightly, at Haywire's tone. A quick glance her way showed that, no, she wasn't happy anymore. “Now I'm worried about that. What's the word, big guy?” “He didn't say anything about weird stuff...” Ironhoof frowned, stood up and edged into the aisle. “But I didn't ask...I'll go do that now.” Brightside watched him go, climbed back into his seat to continue going over the map. There wasn't much in the way of conversation, and the persistent clatter of the rails was welcome to prevent an awkward silence... The rattle of the door opening – the door that led toward the rear of the train – drew him from his thoughts, and he turned his attention to it. “Ha! At last, I have found you.” The griffin squeezed his way through the narrow door, spreading his wings for a moment as he entered the car. “And only on the third car I have checked. That is good!” “What.” Brightside glanced Haywire's way as he slid off his seat again, taking some vindictive pleasure at her confusion. “Grendel. I certainly wasn't expecting you to arrive so quickly.” “Bah. I bet Brass pony three bits that I couldt catch this train before it reaches the junction. And I never lose a bet to that one, or he will never let me forget it.” “He can be like that.” He smiled, as he moved down the aisle, reaching out to offer a hoof once he'd closed the distance. “How are you doing, Grendel? You look a little...ruffled.” And he did, his dark jacket slightly askew, fur and feathers sticking up at odd angles. The griffin, for his part, looked embarrassed, sweeping a paw over his chest to pluck one that was particularly bad before taking the proffered hoof in his claws and giving it a shake. “Eh...I may have misjudged the speed of the train, Corporal. It was small crash. Nothing to be concerned for, yes?” “'Any crash you can walk away from' is how my flight specialists tend to put it.” Brightside held his smile for another few seconds, then sighed and gestured toward one of the empty seats. “Thank you, though, for coming to help us with this. We're not too far from our stop, and the brief can wait until we've settled in for the night.” “Ah, yes, your work. Of course, Corporal, I understand.” Grendel clicked his beak, slipping past him to examine the bench seat. “This is sad, though. I wouldt like to join the festivities, yes?” “Festivities?” Brightside frowned, looking to Cross Stitch...the unicorn shook his head, just as confused. “What 'festivities'?” “Tch. You ponies, you have so many celebration days, I cannot keep track of them. But it looks to be a big thing, yes? The fireworks were very, ah...pretty!” “Sounds like a blast.” Haywire deadpanned. “We could be lucky, right? They're just having a big party, everyone's having a good time. I mean, what are the chances that-” The train lurched, and Brightside barely kept his balance, scrambling as he skidded forward. Grendel caught him before he could slam his head into the floor, sharp claws digging into the cheap carpet for traction. The screech of the brakes was far louder than it should have been... “Oh come on!” “Not an emergency stop.” Cross Stitch spoke up, voice raised to be heard over the noise. “But certainly urgent.” Brightside just nodded, giving Grendel a tight, grateful smile as he braced himself more carefully. The train stilled, not long after, and the silence was heavy enough that he almost had to cringe. The heavy hoof-steps could be heard two cars down, and Brightside steeled himself as they all waited for news... Ironhoof shouldered his way in, finally, and nothing about his expression was comforting. “Um, boss? I think we need to get our things together. I'm pretty sure it's been here.” “Well don't keep us in suspense, big guy.” Haywire snapped, pulling her window open with a flicker of magic in order to stick her head out. “What's going on?” “The, uh...the train station's on fire.” In another life, if he were a different pony, Brightside might have just gone back to sleep and given it all up as a bad job. As it stood, it looked like they weren't going to have the rest time that they'd hoped for. “You heard him, everypony. Get your gear and offload.” He looked up at the griffin in front of him. “Grendel? Looks like I'll be explaining on the move.” “It is no trouble, Corporal.” The mirth was gone, replaced by a professionalism that he definitely appreciated. “Lead the way.” Yep...wonderful way to spend those vacation days...