Trixie and the Ink Machine

by BronyPony01

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Horror, Crossover, Tragedy
Length: 1393

[i]It's Time To Believe. It's Time To Create. It's Time To [b]REINCARNATE[/b][/i]

When the record plays
And the venom stains
Step forth, O Lulamoon

For when the ink gives rise
To a black demise
You'll reanimate inevitable doom

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2017-03-08 10:26:34 UTC

A Bit Sketchy

It's not easy being a magician. It's even less easy to strive to be Equestria's Greatest Magician. But for Trixie Lulamoon, that didn't come to mind. The blue unicorn never did care about what the odds were when she first started. She just simply put on her cloak and hat and started deceiving other ponies into thinking that an earth pony could do such amazing talents and tricks. But over the years, the audience grew tired of her routine, whether it was something out of style or changed completely. They enjoyed her performance less now that Twilight Sparkle, once Ponyville's well-mannered librarian-turned Princess of Friendship started gaining fame and respect. Trixie didn't care. Twilight was still Twilight. Nothing changed for her, minus the fact that she gave Starlight Glimmer to her as a friend. Her only friend. She brushed her light-blue mane and proceeded with her life. The act and stage she performed on were ones she made sure were in pristine condition, not once caring if the majority of the crowd thought them as a bit sketchy. Trixie still had that sly smirk and self-centered style keeping her from failing right in front of their eyes. That was until the night of her birthday.

As Trixie began setting up her stage, making sure the springs weren't rusty from the "unexpected" storm, she started to trail of into her thoughts. In and out. Thinking about her greatest days. The days that had guaranteed her title, "The Great and Powerful Trixie". She had it all. The fame. The crowd cheering her name. The dazzle of the spotlight. She had thought that fortune would slip by as well. She snapped out of her trance, going back to work preening her wood-and-metal-made stage set. Fortune hadn't come yet. She still lived in her show wagon. She didn't mind. It would come. Eventually. She set the stage for her greatest act ever known, to her. Her 5th Annual Magic Performance it was named. Trixie had then waited. She was still in her purple costume. A brilliant teal gem holding the flaps of her cape around her neck, her neatly-trimmed magician's hat, and her ever-so beautiful gaze had now set her completely. Now all she had to do was wait. And wait she did, for the night had fell upon the town as elegantly and as beautifully as it did. Most of the ponies in Ponyville had noticed the color-changing lights and decor just outside of town. Some of them sighed and rolled their eyes, knowing which pony was responsible for it. But they continued in that direction. They thought that if they kept coming to her shows and performances, then she would've stopped and continued onward to another town she could annoy. They still hoped that this time she would leave. They stood at the front of the "amazing" display that was Trixie Lulamoon's 5th Annual Magic Performance, hoping this was her last.

Smoke began to seep under the curtains, all misty and purple. Flashes of light began to spark at the sides as Trixie herself emerged from the floorboards. The crowd knew that she could do all that by simple mechanics: fog machines, fireworks, and a pully system underneath the stage. But yet again, Trixie paid no attention to them. She continued her show, which lasted an agonizing two hours. Two hours of light shows, mist effects, and magic spells any unicorn could do. That was until her final act, in which she presented a simple crystal ball.

"Now," Trixie announced, "the Great and Powerful Trixie shall commence the final act of the night!"

Some of the ponies in the crowd whispered in a couple "yes"s and "finally"s before the self-acclaimed magician rose the sphere into the air, making it spin at a very high speed around its vertical axis, as well as creating a glowing effect upon it: a yellow-orangish aura. Trixie smirked as flames started sprouting from the spinning ball of crystal, and before long, a brilliant glow arose from its core and casted upon the audience a bright light that seemed to cause anypony outside of the town to think the sun was rising in the middle of the nightly hours. The Great and Powerful Trixie twirled for a bit and yelled to the audience before her, "Is this not the most spectacular event you have ever witnessed? Ha ha! Or shall I let you see more? For whatever the choice you make, I, the Great and Powerful Tri-"

"We want neither, now turn that OFF!" somepony shouted back, obviously annoyed.

The pony-made star extinguished its glazing glare and simmered back into a spinning crystal ball, still spewing tiny flames out of the core. "Wh...what?" Trixie stammered, shocked at the sudden negligence of her spectacular performance, "Wh-who said that? The Great and Powerful Trixie won't tolerate this. Not at all!"

"Geez, can't we just go home? None of us had the audacity to be here tonight! Don't you know when to quit?" another pony said, joining alongside the other rude comments projected from the crowd.

"Can you believe after all these years she's still wasting her time?"

"Maybe you should call it a night until you actually become somepony useful!"

"Let's get out of here. This night got sour just by looking at her."

Half of the mob made their way back home, rejecting Trixie's attempts to reconcile with them. "Wait! Come back! Where do you think you're going? COME BACK!" It wasn't long before the baby-blue-maned unicorn dropped the ball, causing it to shatter all over the ground. Flames burst as it clung to the curtains and spread all along the wooden floorboards. Luckily, Trixie had previously coated the entire stage wagon in a protective spell that made sure nothing would ever be burned. The other equipment, however, wasn't as lucky. The flames licked at the other props, setting them ablaze as Trixie panicked. She saw the opportunity to find the fire extinguisher from the back curtains and used it to gouge out all of the flames and fiery props. All that remained was an empty stage and piles of ash after she was done. She inspected the damage, but the only items lost were her ropes, top hats, playing cards, and a wooden marionette she used to be her "assistant". But the one thing she cared about more than the ones burnt was the one thing that died altogether - her special gift that she had gotten from her grandmother before she passed away three months from her 8th birthday. Her special, little teddy. She used the teddy as an act altogether, making it vanish and reappear somewhere else, or tricking ponies into thinking that she had sawed it in half, or, her favorite, making it seem as if it was actually a sentient being for a tea party skit. But now, it was gone.

Gone.

Tears welled up in Trixie's eyes as she whispered "his" name, trying to see if it wasn't really Teddy. But to no avail, she only saw the remainder of her beloved toy: a red bow tie. But even that was to ashy to be recognizable. Trixie knew all too well. As if things weren't going to get any worse, they got worse. The other ponies cheered her for the first time in years, but not because of her achievement, but of her failure. They shouted out terrible comments and whispered horrible side conversations. After a few minutes of this, the rest of the mob went home, leaving Trixie all alone. Again. This time, however, there was no trotting back to her home. There was no prepping for the next show. There was no reminiscing on how the performance went. There was only tears. Trixie fell onto her side as her sobbing made her cough and hiccup. The tears were flowing freely now. Tears kept from nights of the same demeanor, same the side-rudeness, and the same exact words:

"You're no magician! You're just a fake! Just give up!"

And give up she did.

"I quit," Trixie finally murmured. She rolled onto her back, gave out a few more sobs, then screamed. Her anger and depression had now taken its turn on her. After so many years, she finally snapped. After many years, she finally screamed.

Screamed out of sorrow and anguish.