Scabs

by 4EverfreeBrony

Scabs

Scabs

She hated it. She hated it. Nopony could change her mind, either. She hated it so much, in fact, that if somepony tried to convince her otherwise, she would have that same pony electrocuted, buried, dug up after said burial, and then heaved off whatever cliff was nearest at the time.

She smiled.

She supposed it was evil to have spiteful thoughts like this, but she couldn't help it. She didn't care, either. After all, she knew she would be completely understood about her opinion towards rock-farming.

She hated it.

One swing after another, the pickaxe in her grasp of magic had almost slipped several times, nearly missing the stone she aimed for. She'd been taught that it was no good to miss. What was the point of this job again? To... make sure that the earth has proper balance between... small rocks and large rocks... That way we can... provide Equestria with a more flat and even surface to walk on... And flat and even surfaces are...

That was as far as she could get with a reason she'd tried to come up with, in case she would be presented with an opportunity to trade places with another pony. Of course, this is to say that said pony has a "better" job than her. No such opportune moment had been presented, so far, though, merely adding to her more-recently-accumulative disappointment.

Her smile was far gone by now. It was established quite a while ago - in her mind, of course - this was the worst job anypony could ever have the worst luck to stumble upon.

The pickaxe struck the small piece of earth harder than she had intended, and, instead of merely splitting it, she had ultimately destroyed the thing, as well as dug into the earth itself with the pick. With a hatred, she eyed the pebbles of broken rock before, like a snob, tipping her nose high into the air.

"Hmph!" she scoffed. "That'll teach it to fill Trixie's mind with evil thoughts..." She then turned to a very intimidated-looking pile of rocks and stated, "Trixie is certain now that you all have the right mindset for when it's your turn, is Trixie correct?"

She took their silence as a yes.

"Trixie thought so."

Maybe this was what Mr. Pie was blabbering about when he said that she needed to see the farm as if the rocks had lives. Just maybe...

No, Trixie knew. She knew that she was only talking to them because there was simply nopony else to talk to. Not that she needed another pony to talk to, she just felt the need to vent frustration. With words. Towards rocks.

It was reasonable, she told herself. She didn't need another pony. Nope. Not one.

This was, of course, completely beside the point that she didn't know another pony who would ever want to talk to her. She knew, however, that nopony was really worthy of talking to such a Great and Powerful pony such as she, so it didn't matter to her.

Scabs, she called them. All of them. They were all unworthy of her greatness. She stood above them all in levels she couldn't even count.

The sound of the metal connecting with the rock for the nth time reminded her of her low-standing place in the world, currently.

She growled spitefully and swung the tool deep into the dirt with an outburst.

"Gah! I hate this... lowly place! Such pity! Such simplicity! Such stale food!" She gasped and quickly turned round about to see if anypony had been there to hear her ranting. Finding none, she sighed, feeling the slightest of gratefulness that no one was there to listen.

She half-smirked. That's right, it only added to her earlier point; she didn't need anypony to talk to.

She didn't need anypony for anything, she told herself.

*|*|*

"Trixie! Supper's hot!"

"Pfft." Trixie had no sort of gratitude toward the home she was provided with, nor the food. However, her body ached and her eyes stung. She supposed anything to fill her stomach would do for now.

"I said supper's hot!"

"Trixie is on her way!" she shouted back. "Be patient. Trixie has worked all day. She doesn't have the energy to be in a hurry."

She could see Mrs. Pie standing on the porch, bearing a smirk. "Well, supper ain't gonna keep warm for any slowpoke, that's for sure."

Hiding a grunt of frustration, she quickened her stride and made for the doorway. "Fine." Perhaps she was hungrier than she had thought, as her mind had wandered into the depths of curiosity. "What is it, anyway?"

"Mama Pie's famous seaweed soup!" She seemed to sound excited. Though, Trixie was not at all interested in how one could be so elated to hear such news about what was for dinner, much less how this so called "soup" was famous.

Much, much less how she even managed to find seaweed.

Sitting down at her spot they had set aside for her, she noticed the rest of family - even the two younger ones - had already begun eating. She sighed and lifted her bowl with simple magic and waited to be dished up. Hearing the familiar liquid-y-food-like noise, she then floated the bowl under eyesight to be scanned. Not that she was checking for any... artifacts in the food, if that's what one would call it, she was only taking her time to stare at it, longingly hoping for a better meal one day.

"It ain't much," croaked Mr. Pie. Trixie had avoided voicing her opinion on the food here. Food was food, yes, but food, in order to be food, needed to be grown properly and more sanitized and cooked thoroughly and--

Mrs. Pie cleared her throat.

Trixie grinned a tiny, sheepish grin and set her bowl down. Another slip up, she knew. She had been staring, almost glaring at the substance in her bowl for a longer-than-necessary period of time.

Even after working here for nearly the end of a third week, she still didn't know how Mrs. Pie would act if she had shown her more accurate attitude toward the food, nor Mr. Pie if she had shown the same toward the shelter and bed. She just knew she wasn't taking any chances.

"Hey, Trixie!"

She lifted her head. One of the two fillies had called her name. Or, shouted it. "Hm?" she replied. She didn't know which one to look at.

The one with a lighter gray mane seemed hesitant, while the one with a darker gray mane was clearly outgoing about the upcoming question. "Could you show us some magic after supper?" she beamed.

Magic...?

Ah, yes. Magic. She had almost forgotten the thing existed. It had become so natural, and life had become so utterly boring that one of many, many things she specialized in had almost gone with it. Of course she still knew it. She just hadn't really practiced it in a while.

"Trixie is exhausted," she excused herself from the task. "She has worked very long and hard today, and has not the time or energy for performing tonight."

"Aww..." they pouted. "But--"

"Y'all heard her," Mrs. Pie cut in. "She's exhausted. Needs her rest." She then looked at Trixie. "Ain't that right, Miss Trixie?"

Trixie lifted her muzzle. "Quite." She heard a snort from Mr. Pie's end of the table, but thought nothing of it.

Scabs.

*|*|*

Bloody pillow.

She couldn't find a comfortable position to rest in, as she shifted around in bed. She knew sleep would be a nightmare to achieve, so she decided that rest would have to suffice for now. It was all she could afford right now. Her eyes would sting in the morning, but she didn't care at the moment.

If there was some way she could just live the way she wanted, she wouldn't have to work so hard for all these low-rate daily items. Such things are a disgrace to life itself and pony kind. If she had it her way, she would find decent food.

No, she would have a servant find her decent food. She would have her servants do everything, if she had enough.

There was one thing she knew she would want to take care of herself, though.

Her revenge.

Her sweet, sweet revenge. Snarkle and her 4... no, 5 stinking friends with their stinking Elements of Harmony and her stinking bangs.

She sat up and frowned at the noticeably small bag of bits sitting in the corner.

There was still quite a long way to go, it looked like.

She laid back down, attempting to force herself into sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day.

Another... dreaded... brand... spanking... new... day...

Just what she needed.

There would be no sleeping tonight.

Stupid bangs.

Comments

[Scootawolf]

I could read about Trixie venting out her frustration on rocks all day.

[Frankie2]

Okay. So we know how much she hated being at the rock farm.

[Mooncalf]

Starting nicely.

[toonbat]

Trixie's so much fun to read about, since we never get to see stories from her point of view in the show itself, and I doubt the IDW comics will get around to doing that either. You write her quite wonderfully. Great to see Pinkie's family interact with her too.

[Cerulean Voice]

Your Trixie is very much in-character. Well done!

[4EverfreeBrony]

3699566 Oh, woops. Fixing!

[SuperPinkBrony12]

3699067 You never know. The upcoming "Friends Forever" series opens up a world of possibilites, already we've got confirmed ApplePie face off, Discord "chaos mentoring" the CMC, and Spike and Celestia searching for the perfect gift for Twilight. Any teams up are possible, IDW has shown a willingness to do more with the show in their comics then we may ever see on t.v.

[Cryosite]

I like the concept of a story set on the rock farm during Trixie's working period. I would have liked to see a little break from her revenge-mindset where she does put on a show for the Pie family. I think it would have made for a more rounded picture.

[SantaMan]

Much enjoy. If you keep writing, I'll keep reading. Any plans for more stories?

Also, I believe you misspelled/typo-ed "lowly" as "lowely". So you know.

[Bootsy Slickmane]

I rather like this. The whole thing felt very natural, including Trixie. She didn't feel exaggerated like she often does in fics, and that's quite refreshing. Overall, a very nice slice-of-life story with a good mix of emotions from me; it's funny, but it's also just a bit sad for Trixie. Nice work.

[Loganberry]

I reviewed this! Fairly involving Trixie POV, with flashes of humour. Could have done with a little more space to roam, but a decently solid scene.

[HiddenEntity]

Okay, this was heartfelt and hilarious at the same time. I can feel Trixie's anger and frustration to the point that it's comical.