• Published 20th Sep 2012
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My Little Fantasy - GuyWhoWritesThings



Unable to accept the failures and lies that make up his life, Cloud Strife is pulled through the green glow of the Lifestream, only to find himself... in Equestria?

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Chapter 10: Pipesmoke.

Chapter 10: Pipesmoke.

Well, I can safely say my new attire matches the locale. I feel like I've just stepped onto the set of a western filled with pastel ponies and some other large, horned, hairy creature.

"Buffalo." Trixie whispers to me. "At least, Trixie thinks they are buffalo, she has not seen them first-hoof before."

Okay, how did she know I didn't know what they were? She can't even see my face in this getup, and at her angle I'm pretty sure she can't even see my eyes. "How did you-"

"We've been over this," She flicks her head, causing her mane to sway in front of her face, "The Great and Powerful Trixie knows all, and sees all, even if what she knows is the fact that you don't know something!"

I... think she figured out this is my first time in Equestria. I've been so good at hiding it, too. "So, where are we going, Great and Powerful one?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere, dear Dusk." I'm sure it will. "First, we must find a prime piece of unoccupied real estate to... borrow... for Trixie's grand return show!" She trots up ahead of me, getting a lay of the town and how the ponies flow to and fro, and I can imagine her plotting the best place to start acting in order to draw the most eyes. What's nice, for once though, is that I'm not the one drawing eyes - at least not as many. I still stand out like a sore thumb, and most of the passer-by give me some looks, but without anything visible that indicates I'm not from Equestria, they seem ready to dismiss my presence much faster than the citizens of Ponyville were.

"Shouldn't we... get a room at an inn or something?" I mean, she was sleeping on a grass field two days ago and on top of a train last night, but this is still a good question to ask. At least it feels like it is until it leaves my lips.

"We need bits for that, do we not? And to get bits, Trixie must wow the audience!" She moves her hooves dramatically, even though she must know I can't actually see what she's doing since I'm walking behind her. "Plus... Trixie... sort of spent all her spare bits on that ensemble of yours. The braided poncho was too pretty! Trixie could not control herself!"

...Right. Not letting her manage my checkbook. I sigh. Giving her shit right now isn't going to help much. "It's definitely cool looking, at least." I assure her, giving the poncho a bit of a dramatic flip of my own, but careful not to let anything beyond clothing be visible.

"See? Just let Trixie handle everything and stop asking questions!" Hopefully buttering her up isn't a mistake. I just need to pray the added ego will help improve her confidence in her 'return performance', since I'd rather not sleep in the middle of a goddamn desert. "Here!" She finally proclaims after a bit more wandering.

I... don't see what's so special about this spot compared to any other random sidewalk we could be on, if I'm being honest. Looks like a dirt sidewalk in front of stereotypical wooden buildings to me, just like everywhere else in the town. But, I guess she's the 'expert'. She directs me to a spot between a pair of buildings and asks me to watch from there. Something about not wanting to intimidate the audience. Not a big deal, alleyways are shade and a building to lean against instead of standing or sitting in the sand.

She sets out a small tin in front of her, I assume for collecting bits, and paces a few times. I can see her mouth moving, so I assume she's doing some sort of psyche-up performing ritual even though I can't hear the words. Though, now I can hear her. I'm sure people three towns over can hear her. Holy shit, she can yell.

"Welcome, mares and gentlecolts, today you shall be amazed by the wondrous feats of The Grrrreat and Powerful Trrrrrrrixie!" She's on her hind legs, doing that cape thing she likes to do, producing a bouquet in her forehooves and throwing it to the first pony she catches looking at her - a rather confused looking mare.

From our walk-around earlier, this town has some unicorns and pegasi, but its primarily earth ponies, and their lack of familiarity with magic is starting to show. Trixie's quickly garnered a small group of ponies around her, I can catch the occasional clang of a bit being dropped in her tin to get her to perform some silly spell or another. She seems to be in her element, and the crowd's eating it up. I do have to wonder where she pulls all that stuff from, though. As far as I've been able to tell, unicorn magic seems to mostly be like some form of telekinesis, so that stuff has to be kept somewhere for her to be able to use it in her act. But I guess a good magician would never divulge her secrets.

I'm brought out of my thoughts with her next loud proclamation, though. "And now, The Great and Powerful Trixie reaches her grand finale! Gather 'round, mares and stallions, fillies and colts, for your host shall awe you with a tale of spectacle and heroism unlike any you've heard before!" She rears up onto her hind legs and the invisible trumpets blare, the fireworks shooting out and exploding in the sky as she prepares her 'paint' swatches. The crowd grows a bit larger as she goes into the tale she was rehearsing when we first met - about the giant sea monster being summoned by not-Twilight Sparkle and attacking Manehattan.

The story is even going well, the audience is sitting, looking up at the sky as she draws the city and the unicorn magician. There's even a gasp as the monster rears up from the 'sea'... and then, the illusion in the sky breaks, the color disappears, and there's another gasp from the audience. Looking down, I see Trixie pulling herself back to her hooves, an apple stuck to her horn. As she steadies herself, another apple comes into view and nails her square in the side of the head, knocking her back over. I peek out from the alley, looking for the offender who should know damn well you don't throw apples at people. In the street, there's a pair of stallions pulling a rather large cart of the things, and they have that universal look of loathing plastered onto their faces.

The crowd has also noticed them, and an imposing-looking pony with... a mustache... comes from the crowd. I take my position leaning back against the wall again, watching.

"What in tarnation are you two doin'?" The mustached pony looks a little bit pissed. "Y'all should know better than ta throw apples at a lady!"

"Sheriff Silverstar!" The one on the left points a hoof at Trixie, whose now rubbing the side of her face and likely wondering if anyone got the bus of that number. "That harlot of a unicorn came 'round back when I lived in Ponyville." Oh boy. "Her stupid tall tales almost got the town crushed flat by an ursa minor!" Chalk that up to one tale Trixie didn't make up, I guess.

"Ah dun' really see how a little lady like this could pull that off." The sheriff replies, placing a hoof under his chin and looking back to Trixie. "And besides, even if she did, that's no reason ta be chuckin' perfectly good apples at a lady who is clearly tryin' to make an honest livin' givin' other ponies some entertainment." Some common sense, something that's seems to be rarer and rarer the longer I stay here in Equestria.

"Honest? Honest?!" The second stallion looks incredulous. "Do you really think that egotistical little filly saved Manehattan from a sea-monster, sheriff? That's what she said about saving Hoofington from an ursa major! When the little liar got called out on her stories, she went out and brought an ursa to Ponyville to prove them wrong!" Not quite how I remember being told this story, but if that's how its being spread, things are starting to make more sense. "If that girl Twilight Sparkle hadn't been there, whole town would've been crushed! You want her to lead a sea-monster here to crush us, Sheriff Silverstar?" ...But I'm still wondering where he expects anyone to find a sea-monster in the middle of a goddamn desert.

The sheriff shakes his head in a clearly 'I don't get paid enough for this shit' fashion. "Will you two just git?" He asks exasperated. pointing a hoof. "Next time I catch y'all wastin' perfectly good apples by throwin' them at nice young mares I'll be puttin' ya both in the lockup for a week!"

The two stallions make their discontent heard, but the grumbling sounds are too low for me to hear at this distance. Looking back to the 'stage', Trixie is finally on her feet, straightening her cape and hat as the crowd dissipates and the sheriff walks up to her. Trixie's hat sits awkwardly on her head due to the apple still stuck to her horn as she and the sheriff engage in a hushed discussion. She has that look in her eye as well as the two talk - based on how much those apples likely bruised her pride, I'm sure the fact she has one stuck to her face isn't even registering.

I wait for the sheriff to leave, then slowly make my way over as she scoots herself onto her haunches and pulls the tin of bits close to her. She looks at me, but there's nothing either of us can really say right now, so I simply sit down next to her. After a moment, I reach across, pulling the apple off her horn. She looks at it, likely dumbfounded over not realizing it was even there as I turn it over in my palm, eventually turning the impaled side to my face and taking a bite out of it. "You know, your horn is an excellent flavor booster."

"Shut up." She replies bluntly, trying to stick an angry expression on her face. After taking some deep, choking breaths, though, that anger quickly disappears. Levity zero, depression one. "Well... that went better than the last time Trixie did a performance. Only two apples, this time." I can see her small frame trembling a bit.

"...Only?"

"Last time Trixie did her show, it was ten. And some tomatoes. And a watermelon." What the hell is wrong with these people? "Trixie was a head of lettuce short of being The Great and Delicious Fruit Salad!" She puts a forced smile through, trying to control herself. "I-improvement is good, right?" She sniffles, struggling to keep her composure. "...Oh, who is Trixie fooling?" She takes in a jagged breath. "It's hopeless..."

"So what if it's hopeless?" I shift, drawing my right leg up so I can rest my arm on my knee, my subconscious nagging at me as I ask that question. "It's what you want to do, right?" I can't help but cast my eyes down a bit, but this pull at my subconscious is different than usual. It's the same kind of pulling that made me originally refuse Twilight's help all the way back in Ponyville.

"...Yeah." She seems to be pulling herself together. "Trixie just does not want to end up on a rock farm again, or in one of those seedy joints in Las Pegasus, or worse..."

"Everything will turn out fine." I lean against the building behind me, relaxing and looking up at the sky. Clear, high noon. "Besides, it looks like you were doing quite well before the dynamic dumbass duo showed up."

She turns to the tin of bits, her eyes starting to finally light up a bit. "Trixie was! She did not realize just how full the tin had become!" She pulls it up to her face with her magic, and I can hear the coins rummage as she surmises how much money is inside. "Yes... this is good. This will cover the night's lodging, the train to Dodge Junction... and..."

"Dodge Junction?"

"Yes, that is the other town in this neck of Equestria, remember?" I did. "The... courteous Sheriff Silverstar asked Trixie to very kindly vacate Appleloosa by tomorrow. And just as kindly asked her not return for a repeat performance." And here I've been, thinking him sensible. "Hopefully, we can reach there before the word of those two stallions spreads from Appleloosa and show the populace that Trixie is the best magician in all of Equestria, and assuredly not bringing abominable creatures to the towns she visits!"

One word stuck out of that entire rant. "We?"

She lowers the bucket back to the ground, and there's a small jingle of coins. "Well, you are Trixie's not-quite-as-Great-and-Powerful not-quite-a-drake assistant Drake Dusk!" Drake Dusk? It has a better ring to it than my original Dragon Dusk quip did, at least. "You must surely accompany her to Dodge Junction to ensure the next performance is flawless."

"I don't even assist you in your performances."

"You assist Trixie in... other ways." She replies, getting to her hooves and levitating the tin of coins beside her.

Now that she seems to be less immediately depressed, it's time to see if I can press the big red button. "I told you yesterday, not interested." For a minute, there's silence, a very awkward silence that makes me wonder if I hadn't been as effective in my provocation as I hoped. Then the the weight of a tin full of freshly-earned bits slams against the side of my head, sending coins spilling out everywhere.

"Y-y-you...! Argh!" I pull myself back up as the clink of coins rings out, the tin having its contents refilled. "Infuriating imbecile!" I brush the dirt from my poncho, shaking my head to get rid of the ringing sensation from just getting clobbered by a small blue unicorn. "Come! As Trixie's not-quite-as-Great-and-Powerful assistant, you must accompany her as a responsible guardian until she has consumed enough cider to forget she recently had an apple stuck to her head!" I'm not actually getting a choice in this, am I?

After a bit more meandering around, we find a saloon and head inside. I get the usual looks, but the disguise is still proving its worth as the ponies quickly turn back to what they're doing. We take a seat at the bar, and a quick glance around shows that we're still getting looks - but now they're aimed at her. I suppose the buzz from the incident not long ago is already spreading around the town. I'm guessing she didn't take long to notice either, as she pounds down a mug of cider and is quickly getting a second one poured.

"Anythin' for you, bub?" The barkeep asks me, after pouring The Great and Alcoholic Trixie another mug.

"No thanks." I reply, waving a hand from under my poncho, careful as ever not to show anything not covered in some clothing or another. The barkeep nods and leaves, and I hear the smack of a mug against the wooden counter.

"How can they think Trixie would bring an ursa to Ponyville just to feed her ego!" She was starting to loosen up, but neither her face nor eyes showed any of the telltale signs of any intoxication whatsoever. She's probably almost as good at binge drinking as she is at storytelling, with how things seem to go for her. "Trixie admits she can be a bit... boastful... but she is not a fool!"

"Didn't you say two kids lured that thing in?"

"Yes!" She exclaims, downing the rest of her drink. "Barkeep! Trixie demands another!" The barkeep looks more than a little annoyed, but walks over and refills the mug, half of which quickly disappears. "However," Her voice lowered back to a conversational tone, "many ponies do not know of the fact two... overeager fans lured the ursa minor to Ponyville... and those that do, they blame Trixie, either saying she tricked them into doing it, or that her fantastical stories influenced their young foal minds. It's ridiculous!" And there goes the rest of the mug. "It isn't Trixie's fault that their parents were lackluster enough to allow their foals to run off into the Everfree alone and come back with a Celestia-damned ursa minor! Barkeep!" Damn, that's a lot of vitriol coming out. I'm not sure what I can even say to that, though.

"Shouldn't you slow it down a bit, lady?" The barkeep asks as he pours the... third mug? Fourth? I'm already losing count, and I'm sure she's not keeping any. "Celestia ain't even set the sun yet and yer already lookin' to get plastered more th'n my walls."

"Trixie will have you know she is a responsible mare who knows her limits!" She retorts, downing another half a mug.

"Sure y'are, lady..." The barkeep mumbles. He looks to me, but all I can do is shrug and shake my head.

"Hey! Do you dare doubt The Great and Powerful Trixie?!" I'm kind of doubting how she can still form coherent sentences as she yanks on the side of my poncho with a hoof. "Trixie and her slightly-less-Great-and-Powerful-assistant will have you know they once saved Baltimare from an invasion by the merwolves!"

"Merwolves?" The question comes from a few stools down, said by an older looking unicorn, slowly sipping at his own drink. "Baltimare has never been attacked by any 'merwolves', miss 'Great and Powerful' Trixie. No such thing even exists."

"Oh really?" The empty mug slams back on the counter, and at this point the barkeep doesn't even wait for the order before filling it back up. He must know the type. "And how would you know, mister?"

"Because I study exotic and magical creatures." I rest my head in my palm, not sure I even want to see how this is going to end.

"Then you must not be very good at it!" The reply comes with the distinct sound of chugging and the slamming of a glass. "Because then you would know the merwolves sleep on the bottom of Horse Shoe Bay, only exiting hibernation once every three-hundred years to find ponies to bring back to the bottom of the sea for their next meal!"

"That's more ridiculous than some of the dumb monster tales parents tell their foals." A more calm clink of glass-on-wood comes with this reply. I can't bring myself to look in their direction at all, and from the looks of it, neither can the barkeep.

"But it's true!" More chugging, more slamming, the pouring of more cider. "My assistant here can verify it!" Oh hell no. "Poor Drake Dusk here lost his tail protecting Trixie from a surge of angry merwolves with tridents! Things caught his tail and ripped it clean off! Weapons were cursed so magical regeneration was impossible." ...Okay, at least her crazy exaggeration is giving me a cool backstory.

I decide to look over at them, but now the other unicorn is looking at me, pointing a hoof. "And you're tellin' me the thing with you's a dragon? A little bit small, ain't he?"

I go to open my mouth, but Trixie answers first. "He's a runt, curse that took his tail also stunted his growth." For being on about five mugs of cider too many, she's doing pretty good at riding the seat of her non-existent pants.

The unicorn merely peers. "Got any proof for any of that stuff you just spouted?"

Trixie turns to me, speaking in a whisper. "Quick, do something!"

"Like what?" I reply, equally hushed.

"Prove you're a drake! Use fire or something!" I sigh, but indulge her by opening one of my palms where its visible to the unicorn, forming a small fireball in it, the glow of the Materia covered by my poncho. "See!" Trixie spouts, turning back to the unicorn and pointing a hoof at him. "It is like Trixie said! How else would Trixie's assistant be a dragon with no tail?"

"Lady," the unicorn replies calmly, but with a tone of finality, "even if your 'assistant' there is a drake with a tail that was cut clean off by a cursed trident exactly how you said, it surely didn't happen in Baltimare."

"And why's that?" She raises an eyebrow.

"I work in Baltimare. I'm just here on vacation." Trixie wordlessly downs an entire mug of cider. I bury my head in my hands disapprovingly. Both of us miss the unicorn getting out of his seat and coming over to us, and nearly miss the clang of a couple bits on the counter. "Nice story though. Would probably be easier to believe with a bit of polish and one of those fancy light shows you do."

The unicorn walks out of the bar as we both stare at the money for a moment. "Looks like you can still get fans, after all."

Her eyes linger on the money a bit more as the barkeep fills her cider. Once he moves away, her eyes turn to the drink for a minute, her head leaning on one hoof. She grabs the drink with the other and holds it out to me. "Cider?"

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself." She tips her head back and the next mug disappears.

Needless to say, by the time the sun is setting, I'm cradling a blacked-out drunk unicorn in my arms. The barkeep didn't seem too bothered when she blacked on on top of his bar. It must be a semi-common occurrence for him. Though, he did say Trixie set a new record for how many ciders a mare could down before blacking out, and nearly beat the stallion record as well.

After a bit of meandering around the town, I find a cheap place to get a room for the night, deciding to skimp Trixie's bits by only getting one room instead of two. The keep gives me an odd look, but I just let him think whatever he wants and take the room. I set Trixie's unconscious form onto the bed and cover her before slouching down on the floor, leaning my back against the door. Sleep, however, doesn't come as easy as I hoped it would, leaving me to hear the pained groans of a small pony with the onset of a hangover as she tosses and turns in her bed. Tosses, turns... and after a while, the sounds of an argument from outside. Stupid window's open.

I walk over to the window, deciding to look at the scene unfolding below out of that morbid curiosity most people have. On one side, I see the mustached pony from this morning - the sheriff - and on the other, a small group of things that are clearly not ponies. Hulking things that walk on two legs, roughly my size, maybe a little smaller on average, though their actual size varies. Looks like seven or so in total. Some kind of crime gang? Poor sheriff's got his hands full tonight, it looks like. Not my problem, but I decide to listen in.

"Now listen here, you varmints!" The sheriff says, slowly backing up. "There ain't no gems in this town for you! We only farm apples here! Now git!"

"We smell the gems, you lying little horse!" One that appears to be the leader snaps back. "A strong smell of many beautiful gems, much like these!" The.. whatever it is pulls out a large, two-sided, bronze-colored sword, with eight very familiar gems inlaid along the blade. "You see, we've come a long way, attracted by the delicious scent of these gems and a little... direction, sheriff. So, we don't intend to take the long walk back home until we get everything we can."

Well. Shit. I guess it is my problem after all. I recognize the weapon and the eight gems along its blade instantly - not that it would've been rocket science if I hadn't. I quietly close the window and exit the room, checking to be sure my trusty anti-timberwolf pipe is still fastened to my belt as I head out to give the sheriff a little bit of vigilante support. I straighten my hat as I exit the building, the advancing gang and receding sheriff both past its doors and not noticing my exit. There's only one way worth getting their attention in this setting, I decide, seeing the one with the sword debating whether he wants to put it to use.

"Hey!" I call out, standing in the middle of the road, behind the gang. They turn around and I pull the pipe off my belt, twirling it between my fingers of my right hand as I hold up my left arm from under the poncho, intentionally making my bangle full of Materia clearly visible. "If you're gonna use that sword on anybody, you better start on me."

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