• Published 30th Jul 2013
  • 5,096 Views, 685 Comments

Trixie vs. Equestria - PaulAsaran

Oh look, Trixie's life has come crashing down. Again. Is there any way she can get out of her cycle of success and failure? A certain Princess of the Night might have the answer, but first Trixie must catch her attention.

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Once Upon a Dream

Trixie Lulamoon dropped to her haunches in the dirt and watched her life roll away. “Did Trixie really just do this?”

Amethyst Star walked up beside her, sipping on a soda. “Yep. It was trashy anyway.”

The wagon rolled off, the faded sign of her former profession swaying as her old home rocked its way to Ponyville. Ponyville, of all the dumps in Equestria! Trixie looked down at the coin bag before her and seriously considered throwing it all away.

“I’ll be taking that,” Amethyst declared, swiping the bag with her magic.

“Hey!” Trixie turned to follow after her. “That was Trixie’s wagon, so those are Trixie’s bits!”

“And Trixie’s bits are going to help pay for the debt she owes everypony,” Amethyst countered, tossing her empty can backwards so that it was impaled on Trixie’s horn. “The rest goes to the next month’s rent.”

Trixie magically shoved the can from her horn and glowered, but said nothing. The two made their way through the Hoofington streets, Amethyst casually observing the passing mares and Trixie kicking at the dirt in silent frustration. The sky shined a brilliant blue, a testament to the beauty of Celestia’s days. Skies like these annoyed Trixie to no end, especially when her mood was sour. At the moment her mood was very sour.

“Would ya hurry up?” Amethyst called. “I’ve got a date tonight, y’know.”

“You always have a date,” Trixie grumbled.

“Because I’m such a delightful catch!” Amethyst shook her flank playfully.

Trixie raised her head to strike a gallant pose. “Trixie finds your petty ‘dates’ pointless and revolting! If you are going to go romping around with ponies, can’t you at least stick to just one?”

“You’re just jealous ’cause nopony wants a loser like you,” Amethyst declared, not an ounce of sarcasm in her voice.

Trixie turned her head away self-consciously. “Trixie is not a loser.”

“Sure you’re not,” Amethyst replied, pausing to watch lecherously as an orange mare passed in front of her. “You only got shown up by a certain popular unicorn, saw your career ruined, slaved away at a rock farm, took over a wimpy little town, was defeated again by the same unicorn, had your reputation smeared forever, saw your career ruined again, and just sold your home and only means of financial income. No, you’re not a loser at all.”

Trixie sneered. “Thanks for being so comprehensive.”

“That’s what I’m here for, roomie.”

Trixie caught up to Amethyst just as she started moving again. “You can mock Trixie all you want, but Trixie knows she will rise again! This is only a temporary setback, Trixie promises you.”

Amethyst hardly seemed to be paying attention. “Sure, sure. A couple years mopping floors over at Delicious Cup should pay for that.”

Trixie came to an abrupt stop. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will not be reduced to mere janitorial labor!”

“Then I hope the Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t mind being the Penniless and Homeless Trixie,” Amethyst countered, “’cause that’s what you’ll be in about three weeks if ya can’t pay the rent.”

The former showmare sighed and followed after her housemate, head low and ears drooping. “With friends like you, Trixie doesn’t need enemies.”

They took a shortcut through a side alley and soon found themselves on a large street populated by big, fancy-looking houses. Trixie instantly raised her head and tried to appear confident and proper among the wealthier ponies of the area. A block later, they turned to a brick house just slightly smaller than those surrounding it.

“Don’t go anywhere this evening,” Amethyst warned as she unlocked the front door. “If things go well tonight – don’t they always? – I won’t be coming home till tomorrow.”

“Trixie has suggested many times that she be provided a key.” She closed the door behind her and went to slump down on a couch, her frayed cloak flopping over her face and knocking her tall hat to the floor. She didn’t bother correcting the wardrobe malfunction.

“Make sure you take out the trash and get the kitchen cleaned up when you’re done wallowing in self-pity.”

“Why must you always speak of Trixie’s problems like they are minor things?”

Amethyst ascended the stairs to her room. “It’s just a wagon.”

An azure hoof reached up to raise the cloak from Trixie’s eyes, but it was too late to glare. She let the cloak flop back over her face, puffing out an unhappy sigh. The seconds ticked by, the only sound being the running water of the upstairs shower. The old wagon kept appearing in her vision, big and comfy. Had somepony told her a year ago that she’d be selling it to make ends meet, she’d have laughed. Now it had happened, against all her hopes and wishes, and the only thing she could think of was how much she wanted it back.

But she couldn’t afford the maintenance, not anymore. That last broken wheel had done her in. She could still recall the first time she’d performed in that wagon. The crowds had been awed over her first flash of fireworks. Now ponies only went to her shows to laugh and sabotage her act. Even the easiest of crowds didn’t want to watch; the foals were too scared. She cursed that damned alicorn amulet every night since her defeat in Ponyville, and herself for abusing it.

“You’re not crying again, are you?” Amethyst asked as she came downstairs, her mane tied up in a towel. “I knew you sucked, but that’s sad.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, come on.” Amethyst’s tone grew soft as she sat next to the couch and set a hoof on Trixie’s shoulder. “It’s not that bad. All you have to do is set your sights on a goal and go for it. You told me that, remember?”

Trixie sniffed and lifted her cape up just enough to eye her old friend. “Trixie is very wise,” she grumbled.

“Or,” Amethyst countered with a smile, “I just want you to get a life and pay me your rent on time.”

The depressed magician glowered. “It’s the wisdom one, I’m—”

“Gotcha!” Amethyst pressed a hoof against Trixie’s nose with a grin.

“—Trixie is sure!” She swatted Amethyst’s hoof away and shifted so she was facing the back of the couch.

Amethyst snorted. "You just lie there and mope, then. I have a date to prepare for.”

“Trixie does not mope,” she argued half-heartedly. “She just… needs her rest.”

For a long time she lay there, ignoring the sounds of her housemate wandering around. She kept thinking of her wagon… what used to be her wagon. The fact that it was gone was still hard to comprehend. How could this have happened? That moron Turnip Truck was going to ruin her baby, she just knew it! If she ever saw it again it would probably be covered in grease and useless crap, sitting wheel-less and forgotten in some junkyard. It had served her so well all these years; it deserved a better ending than that! It should have been part of some blazing magical finale, shining like the star it was!

Had once been.

Like she had once been.

She grimaced and rubbed fresh tears from her eyes. As she did, something small and light dropped onto her face, blinding her. “You’ll be needing this,” Amethyst told her.

Trixie sat up and shook the thing off her head to discover that it was a newspaper. She looked at where it had landed between her hooves and saw it opened to the classifieds section. “You’re joking.”

“You know me, always a hoot,” Amethyst answered, pulling off her towel and tossing it into Trixie’s face. “Find a job like the rest of us.”

Trixie jerked the towel off and violently threw it at her housemate. She missed by a wide margin. “Trixie is not like normal ponies!”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Amethyst agreed as she ran a brush through her mane, “but even Trixie needs to make ends meet.”

Trixie looked at the newspaper once more, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she considered the not-so-Great possibilities it would hold. She leaned down to read some of the articles, then inched away from the paper, wrinkling her nose at its contents. “Really, Ammy, Trixie is above such… such… mundane chores!”

“You could always go back to the rock farm,” her friend pointed out, not the tiniest hint of mockery in her voice.

“Never!” Trixie kicked the paper off the couch. “I refuse—”

“Gotcha!” Amethyst had cleared the room in an instant, her hoof pressed firmly against Trixie’s muzzle. “Twice in under an hour!”

Trixie shoved her away, but overestimated the force necessary and ended up spilling over the back of the couch. She lay face-first on the floor, hind legs sprawled over the cushions and cape falling softly atop her head. Amethyst could only laugh.

The humiliated pony lurched to her hooves, struggling to keep the tears out of her eyes as she snatched her hat and shoved it onto her head. “Trixie is going to bed. She hopes your date kicks you to the curb!”

Amethyst grinned and returned to her brush. “My date will be too busy looking at my fine flank to think about anything else.” She shook it at Trixie, who stomped upstairs, taking violent pleasure in kicking the door closed with a slam that shook the entire house.

She stood in the dark, shaking with self-loathing. Her hat began to rise off her head in a magenta glow, but after a few seconds the magic fizzled and it plopped back onto her head. Snarling, she jerked the thing off with both hooves and threw it. It hit a poster on the wall that bore her image before flopping to the floor pointlessly.

Was she so miserable she couldn’t even use her magic properly anymore? She absent-mindedly removed her cloak and let it hit the messy floor, which was covered in old fan mail, empty to-go containers and dirty dishes. She made her slow, unhappy way to the poster on the wall and sat before it, gazing at its faded colors. She gazed at her likeness, bedecked in what had been a new cape and hat, rearing back in a magnificent pose before fireworks and stars and…

…and the wagon.

She leaned forward until her horn pressed against the wall, her unbidden tears flowing.

Trixie awoke slowly. She had no interest in getting out of bed, so instead she snuggled up against the soft blankets and just lay there with a smile on her lips. Familiar smells filled her nostrils: rose tea, delicate herbs, fragrant oak, some nearby flowers. The smells brought her closer to awareness, and after a while she rolled over to stare up at the wooden ceiling. Her cloak dangled from a hook just low enough to tickle her nose, but she didn’t try to get rid of it. She would play its little game, as she did every morning, and resist the temptation as long as she could.

At last Trixie couldn’t take it anymore, so she sat up with a long yawn and gently batted the cloak aside. She cast around with droopy eyes, attempting to see past her untamed locks. Her foreleg reached towards the small stove on the wall nearby, but couldn’t quite touch it. She waved her hoof as if expecting her leg to stretch, but finally accepted that she would have to get out of bed to make her morning tea. She let her leg flop to her side and – thinking of her soft sheets – wondered if tea was really worth it.

Yes, it probably was. Trixie grudgingly stood, allowing the comforter to slip off of her with a gentle swish, and plopped herself down by the stove. She pushed a lock away from her face and used her magic to bring a small kettle over, before pressing the starter button. The stove clicked, but nothing happened. Frowning, she pressed the button again: click, nothing. Click, nothing. Click, nothing.

No matter, she could heat the kettle with her magic.

She glanced to one of the cabinets, which opened to reveal assorted ingredients. A thick vase levitated over to her and, as the lid slipped off, turned over the open kettle. Nothing came out. Trixie frowned and tilted the vase a little more; still nothing. Not wanting to make a mess, she brought the vase down to her chest and took a look inside.

A small flame danced within the vase, bright yellow and frail-looking. She stared at it for several long seconds, trying to understand how it could have gotten into her tea vase. Had all her tea leaves been burned?

“If you got rid of Trixie’s favorite tea you will be sorry,” she mumbled, shaking the vase a little. The flame flickered but made no attempt to answer. Having a flame inside wasn’t going to do her much good, so she decided to take the vase outside and try to get rid of it. She didn’t bother grabbing her hat and cloak.

Trixie gaped the moment her door opened, her sleepy eyes taking in an unfamiliar world. The ground was made of sand that was an extremely light shade of blue… almost white. She took a cautious step down the stairs, and when she did another of her locks drifted before her eyes. It matched the sand’s color perfectly. She pushed her hair aside and took her first step onto the sand. Her hoof sank deep into the soft ground. She could still stand, so she walked a few feet out from the wagon.

She turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings. The entire world was sand. The wagon was surrounded by a curious, curved black wall that made a circle some fifty feet in radius. Her eyes traced the wall upwards to find a high, circular opening that allowed light into her world.

What a strange place. She eyed that hole, wondering what lay beyond the walls before remembering the reason she’d come outside. She observed the vase that was still floating next to her and turned it upside down. A strangled cry escaped her lips as her entire world went dark.

“Hey! Trixie demands to know what is going on!” She turned the vase right-side-up, fully intending to set it on the ground, when her world gained light once more.

Blinking, she gazed up at the clear blue sky above. A thought came to her and she slowly tipped the vase over. As it rotated her world gradually grew darker. When it was upside down she could see absolutely nothing. She turned the vase right-side-up again and the light returned.

“How interesting…” She studied the vase for a moment, took another look inside. The tiny flame was still there. “What kind of magic is this?”

It dawned upon her at last. She looked at the walls towering high over her head, taking in their strange curved shape. On impulse, she shook the vase a little and let out a yelp as her entire world rocked, sending her onto her side in the pale sand. She jerked herself to her hooves and rubbed the gritty stuff from her face. The first signs of fear crept into her mind, but she wasn’t finished experimenting.

She turned to the still-floating vase and, as gently as she could, tapped at its side with a hoof. A resounding, dull thunk sounded through the world. She jerked her hoof away in alarm. “Oh no…”

Carefully, so very carefully, she set the vase down in the sand. She had one more test to try, though she was hesitant to do so. Her horn glowing, she warily lifted a small pinch of sand and, holding her breath, let it drop into the vase.

Dust covered her eyes as something dropped with a fwomph nearby. Coughing, she stood and turned in the direction of the sound and let out a gasp – her wagon looked as if it had just been hit by a sandstorm.

“Oh, Trixie is so sorry!” She ran as best she could in the shifting sand until she was able to see the top of the wagon. She concentrated and let her magic softly push the sand off, the tiniest of winds gently removing every inch of it from the wagon’s various crevices.

“There, that’s better,” she noted with a confident nod. “Don’t worry, Trixie won’t be trying that again.”

“Pardon me, but are you really speaking to that wagon?”

Trixie let out a surprised cry and tried to spin around, but her legs got caught in the thick sand and she ended up falling face-first. She came up sputtering and blushing wildly, shaking her head and sending sand flying. “Who dares sneak up on the Great and Powerful Trixie?!” At last her eyes stopped stinging and she was able to open them without blinking… and there she was. “You… you’re…”

Princess Luna stood, her form the very definition of regality. The tall, magnificent alicorn was watching her with a hoof over her lips, clearly trying not to laugh. “Perhaps I should refer to you as the Great and Clumsy Trixie,” she noted amid barely-contained giggles.

Trixie reared her head back, striking as proud a pose as she could manage and wishing she’d brought her cape and hat out. “Trixie takes offense to your mockery!”

At Trixie’s objection Luna sobered, her eyebrows rising as she studied the mere unicorn. “You must be quite brave to address me with such a vulgar tone. Correct me if I am wrong, but is it not customary to bow before your princess?”

Trixie sneered and made no attempt to bow. “Trixie demands to know if you are responsible for Trixie’s current predicament.”

Princess Luna took a step back, eyes flaring. “Such impropriety! I come here thinking you might require some help, and in return you accuse! Do you even know this is a dream?”

Trixie blinked and cast around at her tiny world. “A dream?” She caught Luna’s eye, coughed and regained her stately manner. “Of course! Trixie knew this all along.”

“Then I should presume Trixie does not need help?” Luna leaned forward with a raised eyebrow.

Trixie flicked a lock out of her face and took on a smug smile. “Why? Whatever reason might Trixie have to request your assistance?”

Luna stood tall once more and gestured with a flick of her head over Trixie’s shoulder. “Perhaps to rescue your precious wagon?”

“The wagon?” Trixie turned and let out a horrified cry at the sight of her wagon sinking into the sand. “No, I can’t lose it!”

“Gotcha!” To her complete shock, Amethyst Star burst from under the sand and tapped her on the nose with a hoof.

For a moment she stared at her old friend over the hoof pressed against her muzzle. Amethyst merely grinned back, ignoring the sand falling through her mane. “Ammy? What are you doing in Trixie’s dream?”

“Beats me.” Her friend fell with a playful squeal and landed on her back in the sand, squirming and laughing like a little filly.

Trixie stared at her friend in dumb silence, then she remembered the situation. She looked up to see that her wagon’s wheels had halfway sunk into the sand. “No!” She ran to it, latched herself to the shafts and began to pull. Her hooves sank deep into the sand, but the wagon wouldn’t budge.

“Trixie will not lose you again!” she cried, her horn glowing as she struggled to lift the wagon out of the sand. She focused as best she could and struggled against the its weight, but the tug on her harness made it clear she was failing. “Please, don’t let this happen!”

Luna paced to a spot a few feet ahead of her, watching the action with curiosity. “You should simply let it go. It is only a wagon.”

“It is not just a wagon!” Trixie snapped, sweat beading on her forehead. “It’s Trixie’s life!”

The princess tilted her head with a frown. “A wagon is your life?”

Something shifted. Trixie felt herself dragged backwards nearly a foot. She looked back to find the back of the wagon had tipped into the sand. “Yes!” She pushed her hooves against the soft soil, tears in her eyes as sand rose to her knees. “Everything revolves around it! I need it!”

Amethyst was there instantaneously, a hoof pressed against Trixie’s nose. “Gotcha again!”

“Ammy!” Trixie begged as her friend danced away with a silly grin. “Ammy, help me! Stop acting like you’re five and help me!”

“Why?” Amethyst asked, sitting in the sand and splashing it around with her hooves. “It’s just a dumb wagon. You need to get a life, Trixie.”

“Amethyst!” Trixie was jerked back by the wagon once more. The sand now touching her belly, she looked back and felt her heart stop at the sight of her half-buried home. Ignoring the fresh tears, she cast around for something that might help. Her eyes fell on the vase sitting innocuously where she’d left it. Horn glowing, she brought it forward and turned it upside down. The entire world going dark save for the soft glow of Luna’s mane.

Trixie shook the vase up and down, trying to dump its contents. “Come on, let me out! Come on!” She ground her teeth, the vase jerking violently in the dark, but all she got for her efforts was the feel of sand inching up her body. Furious, she tried shaking the thing in a different direction and was rewarded with sand leaping through the air and into her face.

She coughed up grit and realized she was deeper in the sand than before; she could feel it just touching the bottom of her mane along her neck. Worse, in the sudden shifting she’d lost her concentration, and thus the vase. She searched around frantically, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, that was fun!” Amethyst laughed as her head poked up from the sand nearby. “Do it again!”

“Get out of my dream!” Trixie snarled. To her surprise, Amethyst glowed blue for an instant, then disappeared completely.

Dark sapphire hooves landed gently, just in front of Trixie’s face. She gazed up to see Princess Luna standing tall above her. “Impressive. I have not seen anypony take such control of her own dream in some time.”

Trixie glanced back at her wagon, which was almost completely buried… and about to take her with it! “Help me! Princess, please!”

But Luna shook her head. “You can do it yourself. If you are capable of removing your friend Amethyst, surely you can save the wagon.”

“I don’t know how I did that!” Trixie struggled against the sand, which was steadily creeping up her neck. “Princess, please! I’m sorry for my behavior! Please!”

Luna stood perfectly still, her harsh eyes staring down as Trixie sank lower and lower. The weight of the sand was making it hard to breathe. Tears welling in her eyes yet again, she gazed up at the princess in all her beauty and silently begged for help. She tilted her head back and fought to keep her face out of the ground while wordlessly mouthed her desperation.

At last the princess sighed and, lowering her head, spoke. “So be it.”

Her long sapphire horn glowed brightly, and Trixie’s entire world soon became an all-encompassing shade to match. She felt air rushing into her lungs. She was abruptly on her knees in the sand. She coughed and sucked up air greedily; for just a moment she relished the sheer joy of being alive.

Then she looked up to see the last of her wagon’s red roof disappear under the sand.

“No!” She forced her aching legs to move, churning forward to where her wagon had disappeared. She dug, sand flying wildly, but no matter how hard she tried she could make no headway. The sand just kept rolling back. After an unknown amount of time she finally gave up, sitting and sobbing in the middle of her tiny, barren world.

“I have seen many curious dreams in my time,” Luna admitted, “but I am not sure I have been in a dream where a pony took such stock in a mere wagon. Most ponies dream about threats to themselves, or somepony else. But a wagon?”

Trixie didn’t bother looking back at the princess. “I don’t care what you have to say.”

“Very well,” Luna countered. “I shall leave you to your silly dream.”

“It’s not silly!” Trixie snapped, jumping to her hooves and turning just in time to see the princess lift off. “What, you think Trixie’s dreams are ridiculous? And what do you dream of, huh?!”

The princess was halfway up the height of the wall when she came to an abrupt stop. She hovered in place, great wings flapping loudly in the still air as she gazed down at Trixie with eyes both surprised and thoughtful. “Nopony has asked me that in a long time.”

Trixie whispered a pleased “Gotcha.” She stepped forward, hoping the small motion would show her determination. “Well, Trixie is asking. What does the mighty Princess of the Night dream of?”

Luna stared at her for a quiet moment before she abruptly tucked her wings in. She landed heavily, sand flinging outwards from the impact as she locked Trixie with an icy glare. “You cannot know what I dream of.”

Trixie waited with mouth and eyes firmly closed until the sand settled, but upon opening her eyes she leaned back at the princess’ harsh expression. Even so, her curiosity had been piqued. “Why not? Do you think it too much for Trixie? Trixie can handle anypony’s dreams!”

“Except her own,” Luna noted.

Trixie sneered and stood to her full height, which wasn’t very helpful as Luna still towered over her. “Tell Trixie about your dreams! Show Trixie. Trixie can handle it.”

“You know not what you ask,” Luna answered. “A word of advice, from one who knows: do not ask questions you do not wish to know the answer to.”

In Trixie’s head that sounded almost like a challenge. She stomped her hoof, an ineffective motion against the soft sand. “Trixie demands to know!”

“No.” The word hadn’t been loud, but Luna’s firm tone made it clear she wasn’t going to budge. Her wings spreading wide once more, the princess rose into the sky with eyes still locked on Trixie’s. “Do not pursue such things, Trixie! The dangers are too great, and you would surely regret it.”

“No danger is too great for Trixie!” she cried, but Luna merely turned and ascended. “Come back! Trixie demands you show her! Trixie will not be ignored!”

But all her shouts were for naught – Luna was gone.

Author's Note:

And here it is, my new Trix-fic! The primary inspiration of this story? Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. Thus this story will be something of a Scott Pilgrim parody. I was going to try and make it funny, but humor just isn't my forte. So instead I'm taking concepts from the general Pilgrim formula and re-imagining them in a MLP format. And Trixie? She struck me as the perfect protagonist for such a story.

Will it be a love story? I haven't decided yet. Will there be fights? Heck and yes. Who will she be fighting? Not telling. :trollestia:

Yes, this has the alternate universe tag. Why it qualifies for that tag won't be apparent at first, but as time goes by we'll slowly see more and more input on exactly what makes this universe different. Nope, not saying anymore. Doing so means major spoilers!

I'll be working on this story and my No Heroes one at the same time, so don't expect rapidfire updates.

UPDATE: Chapter edited by the awesome Cerulean Voice as of 1/1/2014! The drive for perfection begins.

UPDATE 1/25/2014: Chapter updated again with further edits from Death the Kid.