Taking Center Stage

by David Silver

Rating: mature
Tags: Trixie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Slice of Life, Human
Length: 60990

After arriving home from a hard day's work, our protagonist enjoys the Internet. Sure are a lot of new Trixie pictures, it seems. Fortunately he likes Trixie. She has everything he doesn't. If only he could be so self-assured...

After arriving home from a hard day's work, our protagonist enjoys the Internet. Sure are a lot of new Trixie pictures, it seems. Fortunately he likes Trixie. She has everything he doesn't. If only he could be so self-assured...

This is a HiE and the protag will be a mare in short order. If that's not your cup of tea, consider yourself duly warned.

Done for a lovely patron! It will have weekly updates on Mondays until complete. We've worked out a nice outline ahead of time, so the story has a structure waiting to be filled in.

Let's begin.

Note: Knowledge of this 'series' is absolutely not required. Come on in blind and you'll be fine.

Published 2018-03-05 16:40:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-09-10 16:38:19 UTC

1 - Human Resources

Fetlock peeked out from the backroom, blowing her hair free of her vision for the moment. "What is our next appointment?"

Gudrun, her stern griffon secretary, barely glanced aside at the day's schedule as she typed with deft fingers. "You're seeing a low-level boss from the west side."

Fetlock rolled her eyes even as her mane fell back down in front of them. "The price we pay for staying in business. Tell me when he arrives."

Gudrun kept typing, only taking silent note when Fetlock returned to the lab. She didn't have long to wait between interruptions. A seedy-looking stallion sauntered in, a cigar dangling from his lips and two larger thugs flanking him.

"This where that pony-making doctor works?" asked the one in front, advancing slightly past his protection.

Gudrun did not reply, instead reaching to press the intercom's button. "Your next client has arrived." Why Fetlock insisted on speaking personally when they had that installed, Gudrun could not be certain.

"Send them in," came Fetlock's voice through the tinny speaker.

Gudrun waved a talon at the door that led to the back. "One at a time. The others can wait here."

"Yeah, wait here, fellas. I ain't afraid of no doc or nothin'," assured the criminal boss as he sauntered forward, one hoof raised to dust off his sharp suit from what little dust he imagined it might have. He pushed the door open and passed through a narrow but short hallway before finding what looked to be an abandoned warehouse that had been repurposed for the job.

All manner of runes and lines ran along the walls and floors, all leading to one central design. Not far from that dizzying array of arcane magic stood a mare with a back and blue mane that hung over her eyes. She was making marks on a whiteboard, but turned quickly the moment he was in view. "Welcome," she called. "Come closer."

He avoided stepping on anything that looked magic, not wanting to be zapped in case they did that kind of thing. "Doctor Fetlock, right?" The earth pony mob leader eyes the unicorn sorcerer doubtfully. "I hear through the grapevine you can make missing talent not be a problem no more."

"That is my primary talent." Fetlock waved a hoof as she sat down. "I can also find missing lovers and family members, if you have any need for that. Would you like a mare that thinks of little else but being yours?"

He shook his head almost violently. "Let's not mix business and pleasure, and this is for business. Our last unicorn had, uh... issues, you see. So we needs a new one. They need to be good!"

"Good at?"

"Magic, what else?" He snorted with irritation. "She needs to be able to cast spells. You'd think that would be what all unicorns do, but nah, not most of 'em, so that's important."

Fetlock frowned with some thought. Most unicorns that could cast spells would be noticed if they wandered around Manehattan. "One moment." She turned to a filing cabinet and her magic had the first drawer pulled free as she approached it. She began leafing through her considerable index of the population of Equestria, trying to find a match. "Rarity? No. Twilight? Triple no."

She paused to blow her hair out of the way. "Trixie... She has talent, is showing advancement, and is known to travel. No one will be too surprised to see her anywhere." She pulled the folder free from the others in her magic.

"You found one?" asked the mob boss. "Is she good?"

"I believe I did, but before we go further, there is a matter of payment." She held out a hoof expectantly.

He swatted it aside. "This is a favor to the pony that's keeping you away from the cops and an angry princess, I heard. He said I get one, no charge."

Fetlock sagged in place, grunting softly. "Of course... Of course, right." She half turned away. "I will do my best then, but I will remind that if you're not paying, you can't get a refund. Leave your contact information at the front desk and I'll reach out when your pony is located."

"She better be good," he grumbled, turning away from Fetlock. "I didn't come all this way for nothin'."

Fetlock watched him half-storm off before her eyes returned to the folder she held in her magic. "Trixie Lulamoon, sunk to involvement in crime. I've heard stranger things..." She began setting things up to find and summon the perfect human soul to inhabit the new Trixie.

He pushed the door of his car closed and turned for his apartment building. He had made it. With a relieved smile, he moved quickly, if tiredly, to the elevator to get to his apartment. "Stupid extended shifts," he grumbled to himself as he went. The elevator was empty the whole way. It was more often than not.

He navigated down the straight hallway and veered to the left, arriving at his room. He had his keys out before reaching the door and barely paused to get it open. Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind himself and zeroed in on his fridge. He dug out a can of Mountain Dew, popped it open, and nursed it on his way to his true target, his computer.

It was time to unpack. "No groceries here." With a click, he was transported to the wide wonders of the Internet. "Let's see what's going on."

He checked his mail and browsed around a bit. The news was bad, as always, and he tried to push it aside. Work was annoying enough, he didn't want to stress at home. Oh. He found a lovely rendition of Trixie, looking mysterious. Trixie wasn't his favorite pony, but she was cool. He began a trek of finding lots of new pictures of her, and she was looking good.

"Magic, being famous, going wherever you wanted..." he tallied out loud. "You have it all, Trixie. I wish I had half your bravery. If I stood up for myself like that, I wouldn't be here, bottom-rung at a grocery." He rolled his eyes and clicked on, checking on some fanfic updates.

Ding!

He'd received a message from a friend he hadn't heard from in a while. How nice.

Hey man, how's it going?

He considered only a brief moment before quickly typing a reply.

Doing just fine. What's new?

I found the most amazing thing. What would you say if I told you that you could be Trixie if you wanted to be?

I'd say I'm not interested in one of those hypnosis videos.

Ha Ha, no, really! The real deal, fur, tail, horn, magic!

This is kind of odd, even for you.

He frowned a little. Was his friend being legit? What if he was? What if he blew a chance at something... interesting...

What's the catch?

No catch! Well, one catch...

"Knew it."

Not a big one though. You have to do a few favors, you know, something the Great and Powerful can do super easy,
then it's all yours. You, Trixie.

What if I change my mind?

You won't! I mean, what do you want to do, be a magic unicorn, or help people stuff food in bags forever?

A chill ran down his spine. That logic was much harder to argue.

If you can do this, why are you even here?

Who says I am?

He sank back in his chair. Was his friend seriously saying he was reaching out from Equestria? Still... Alright, it was most likely a joke and the moment he said alright, it would be all laughter and ribbing, but if he said no, he'd wonder about it forever...

Okay.

Awesome, you're in?

I said okay! What do I have to do?

Get the package.

What package?

The one in front of your door.

He didn't remember seeing any packages on his way in. Still, he rose with his can of dew, sipping it on the way back to the front of his apartment. He pulled the door open and... there is was, a box with shipping labels and everything, as if some delivery man had rushed in just then, put it down, and ran away without knocking.

He picked up the box cautiously, glancing left and right as he did so. There was no one there. It was the same, usually empty, hall he lived in. Slowly, he retreated back inside and closed the door. Unnerved, he took the time to thoroughly lock the door.

The box was very light. Was it empty? He put it down on the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife, slicing its tape easily. Inside was exactly one hat. It was conical, purple, and gaudy. It was Trixie's hat.

Ding.

A message had come on his computer. He took the hat and hurried back to his computer, where a message from the same friend waited just under the rest of the conversation.

Alright, now just put it on.

Did his friend have a camera in his place?! He typed almost angrily, speaking outloud as he typed, "How do you even know I have it?!"

Magic. Horse. Do you want it? Put it on. 🐎

Unknown to him, the power that Doctor Fetlock was weaving had decided he was a good match, and was doing its part to pull him in. Never against his will, it didn't work that way. He had to accept the offer.

He turned the hat around in his hands. The material was soft and nicely made. It glimmered in the light, being made to catch the eye and shine easily. He could imagine Trixie, if she was real, approving easily of the hat. But it wasn't a cartoon. It was a very real hat he held in his mildly shaking hands.

It doesn't bite.

He looked over at the ding and huffed. He was being watched. That was so weird. He reached over and tapped lightly.

You'd better not be recording this for Youtube laughs. Where are you anyway?

No Youtube, promise. Go on. Trixie's waiting for you.

He raised the cap high, looking into its bottom. He expected nothing, darkness, but that wasn't what he saw. There was a dim image there, as if on the other end of a long tunnel. He saw a pony, but it wasn't Trixie. A unicorn with black and blue mane was seated. Was she saying something? Her lips were moving, he was fairly sure, but he couldn't hear it.

It was a pony, a real pony. Was it that easy? With a little hysteric laugh, he thrust a hand into that hole, as if he could reach the magic pony he saw.

His arm came alive with a thousand angry needles, paresthesia running wild along the limb with alternating waves of heat and chill.

Wear it!

He wasn't paying too much attention to the screen. He was too busy yanking his arm back with a curse. His arm had not made the trip unharmed. Though the tingles started to fade away, he could see his nails had grown thicker considerably. The distance his fingers could spread had been reduced, as if they were paralyzed from the trip and clutched together.

He dropped the hat limply and grabbed for his wrist with his good hand. The two together made the changes all the more drastic in sight. His changed arm really had been bent out of shape. Had he broken something?!

Put it on. Put it on and everything will be alright, I promise.

He didn't feel pain, even if it looked like he should. That's when it hit him. His arm was being reshaped. He had the wrist that belonged on a horse. His fingers were in a halfway point between fingers and hooves. If he had just left his arm in there, he would have ended up with a horse's foreleg attached to him.

But... wasn't that the point?

The gravity of what he was looking at was hard to escape. It was real. The offer was real. He could put on the hat. He could go to Equestria. He could never push a bunch of half-rusted shopping carts around a parking lot ever again...

He just had to put on a hat. How hard is that?

On the other... hoof? He had already been spindled. If he didn't put on the hat, he'd have to show up to work a literal cripple. He'd be worse off than he'd started, possibly forever.

Magic horse, or gimped human...

The choice seemed easy, when he put it in perspective.

Author's Note

Welcome back to a new story involving the lovely and terrible Doctor Fetlock, though she won't be in too much of it. This is more about our human victim and his adventures and typos in the form of Trixie.

I promised my patreon a detailed transformation scene, so expect that next chapter. There will likely be tawdry bits, but this is not a clopfic, but we aren't shying away from details either. Let's turn this human man into a mare!

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

2 - Outside-In

He lowered the hat to the ground carefully. "One second..." There was still the, small, chance he was being jerked around, but those odds were decreasing rapidly. He pulled up his chat program but didn't click on his chatty friend, no need to talk to him.

He ran down the rest, creating a group chat to everyone else he remotely cared about. As it turned, a hand made partway into a hoof was bad at typing, but he still had one good one. It wasn't as if he'd never typed with one hand before. He quickly penned his farewell, though he did not specify he was going to Equestria, since who would believe that anyway? He was safe, he was fine. He was also leaving, and that's what people needed to know.

Bing!

Are you ready?

He was, he was reasonably sure. "Do I need to get naked for this?

You can if you want. Less things to get caught on you while this happens.

He could take off his shirt at least, he decided. He wasn't sure he wanted to go completely naked for however his friend was spying on him. They weren't that close. He pulled it free over his head in one smooth pull, knocking free the cap he was wearing in the same motion.

It was an old cap he had received a few summers previous at some little carnival. It had a big corn stalk on it and most of his friends thought it was quite silly as hats went, but it made people ask about it. What did the corn mean? He liked wearing it just for that.

He would be wearing a new hat. He picked up Trixie's conical covering and hovered it over his head, hesitating in that last moment.

With a slow exhale, he pulled it down into position, its band holding firmly, squeezing his head just slightly as it slid into position under his guidance.

With a sudden surge of pulling, he could feel his ears crawl along his suddenly sensitive flesh. They raised in a tingling wave that echoed throughout his entire body. Unlike when he had put his arm in, there were no needles, no sharp ones. It felt... good, on some level he couldn't really explain very well. It was like getting a really good massage where it was needed.

He could feel pain, but it was a pain of release, a needed pain, a good one. The sensation focused in his ears and he scrambled to his feet, sending his chair toppling backwards in the motion. He had to see what was happening!

Rushing into the bathroom and flicking on the light, he could see his ears were already... gone? He could feel them, but they weren't at the sides of his head, not anymore. He could feel them much higher up. Suddenly they came into view, peeking out through the hat itself that had grown two holes to accommodate those furry extensions. Fuzzy, long, and open towards the mirror, he gaped at the blue horse ears that were very clearly his.

You couldn't see Trixie's ears normally, he thought, but then... you normally weren't Trixie, so...

His left hand clenched and he looked to it as the thick nails began to clump together, forcing his fingers together as they became fewer, larger, bones instead of so many delicate ones. He brought over his remaining hand to feel the hoof form, flesh flowing beneath his remaining fingers. Like ants crawling beneath his skin, it wriggled and writhed, lost beneath the forming shell of the new hoof.

The hoof was more intricate than the simple stump he'd seen in the show. That was a horse's hoof, his hoof. Unlike a horse, he could feel as he ran his fingers along it. There seemed to be no numbness as one imagined a horse would have there, even in the wall of his hoof, he could feel.

He laughed, how could he not? He had a hoof! A hoof that was starting to grow fur just above the heavy foot of it, blue, swiftly thick as it threatened to overtake his arm. It was working, he was becoming Trixie.

He would be able to cast spells and do impossible things! Once he had a horn? Did he have a horn? He hadn't felt anything up there, but he did feel something down below. His retractable horn was perking up, perhaps with his excitement. As blood rushed between his legs, he realized the basic truth of the matter. Trixie did not have a penis, least of all a human one. He would have to say goodbye to his precious friend.

He undid the buckle at the front of his pants even as strange sensations ran through his body, the ants returning, but farther spread out. He wasn't sure what was changing, but he knew he only had so long. He pulled down the zipper and kicked away his pants from his increasingly hairy legs. Those hairs were turning blue quickly, making it clear what color would soon cover him.

Sprouting from his boxers, his shaft pulsed with his excitement. With every beat of his excited heart, it changed in shape slowly but surely. Despite his assured mareness incoming, it took on the shape of a horse's tool, flat at the end with a ring of sensitive flesh towards the center. He was becoming a horse first, becoming female came later?

He didn't argue the fact. It was a chance few men received, and he didn't want to throw it away. He grabbed for it, curious and fiercely turned on at once. As if in cruel jest, it began to dwindle almost immediately as he did, giving him precious little time to examine the alien contours of his altered tool and feel what it was like to have them.

His fingers on the tool, he could feel that it wasn't shrinking, per se, but literally pulling inwards away from him. When he tried to stop it, it grew painful, as the skin went tight before he gave up on that effort. His dangling jewels ceased their hanging, pulling up tight and pressing up as firmly as the rest. They would become his ovaries, hidden deep within his torso.

It was really happening. He ran his tongue over his lips and realized that felt odd. A glance at the mirror showed patches of hair, no, fur, was spreading over his changing lips. His face was starting to push forward into a snout and his vision was growing distorted with it. His eyes, almost frighteningly, were becoming larger and slightly wider-set.

With a sudden snap, he almost toppled over. One of his legs had given up on humanity and was swiftly reshaping into an equine limb. He let himself fall in a more controlled fashion. "I am a mess," he sullenly noted to himself, with two hooves on opposing limbs, left hand and right foot, still human in the other limbs.

In the mirror he saw something new. As if in opposition to what had happened to his genitals, his chest was changing. His nipples swelled slowly, pushing outwards. It was almost... like getting an erection, or so it felt, right on his chest, twice at once. He leaned backwards, supporting himself on his hand-hoof as he watched the breasts grow, but they weren't happy to remain where they were, slowly descending along his torso.

He felt a constriction in his boxers, not from the front anymore, that was gone. He... wasn't much of a he anymore? No, it was coming from the back. It hit him what it had to be and he squirmed free of the boxers, kicking them awkwardly off his new leg-hoof. In the motion, he could feel his still-forming tail bouncing about.

"Time to do it like a pony," he... she decided, moving to stand on all fours as best she could, but all her limbs were different sized. Even her human and pony ones didn't agree with each other, each limb at a different point of becoming the pony she was to be.

She did an awkward turning in place, looking herself over. Behind her, not where a human would have one, she was growing the thick lips of a mare, in a teardrop shape, waiting for the opportunity to make more ponies. She really was a she... Above that, she could see that even her anus, a part she did not often pay attention to, was changing, becoming more pronounced as her rump altered around it.

With a sudden surge of electricity and a bright flash, she gained a cutie mark. Turning, she could see it was on the other side as well. She was Trixie, with her magical mark that told the world she was a magician of great talent. She giggled at the thought of what magical marvels she would manage. As if encouraged by such thoughts, her forehead began to ache. She could feel it, like a wet slithering. Her horn was coming free of her, though she couldn't see it with the hat obscuring it nicely.

Her stance was becoming slightly better as her other leg rushed to catch up and her back end rested on the tiles on two strong hooves instead of human feet. She raised one, then the other, looking back at her new hooves with an almost child-like wonder. They were hers, really hers!

That twitching tail of lighter blues was also hers. She swished it left and swished it right, captivated by the simple idea of even having a tail at all. It was a nice tail, and it was hers. She felt a pinching sensation and peeked under herself to see her human breasts were dwindling quickly, becoming equine teats that were lost beneath her soft blue fur. They wouldn't be needed unless she decided to be a mother.

A shiver ran along her form as she realized what she had even considered. The very idea that she could consider becoming a mother was a deeply alien one that served to remind her exactly how far she had come in so little time. Not that the Great and Powerful Trixie had time for such things. She laughed at the little internal joke, breaking some of the tension.

The pony in the mirror was almost complete. Her right hand was all that remained, covered in blue fur, but still having a hand, it threw off her balance, but not nearly as much as it should. It seemed her bones were shifting, just not her hand, not yet.

It was just a bit of humanity that resisted her otherwise-pony nature. It was, perhaps, a last chance to turn back? Could she yank the hat free of her pony head and turn back at that late hour? Would she return to being a human male in the morning?

She turned her face slowly, examining its contours and batting her extended lashes at her new self. "I could go back... Or..." She reached up and took the hat off, but she didn't throw it down. Instead she set it carefully. "I can proceed. The show must go on and all that." She shoved her human hand into the hat much as she had the left one.

She was falling. Somehow, she had fallen into the hat. She could feel her right hand becoming her right hoof so very quickly, almost painfully as it wrenched into position and became a matching hoof. She was a pony, entirely a pony. She was also still falling, plummeting through a field of stars and impressions.

She put out her hooves, all four of them, and she suddenly hit the ground. The force of it sent her sprawling in a disheveled heap, her hat fluttering down to land beside her. She was on some kind of strange arcane sigil. The unicorn she had seen before was smiling at her triumphantly.

"Already fully formed, and clothed," Fetlock said mostly to herself. "Does that mean you fully accept your new role?"

She sat up, head wobbling with some dizziness. "I'm here to be Trixie, right?"

"You are Trixie," corrected Fetlock, "And don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You are Great and Powerful, and prefer avoiding saying 'I', since that is a chance to remind people who they're talking to."

"Y-yes, right..." That made sense, that is what Trixie would say, what... she... would... She shook her head violently. She had felt her old human memories fade and grit her teeth. "No!"

"No?" Fetlock looked surprised. "You're already this far, you clearly want it, deeply. What is there to argue?"

"I am still me." She put a hoof at her chest, her footing becoming quite precarious with her still forming balance. "If I forget me, then there is no... purpose. I want to be a Trixie that knows how amazing it is to be Trixie, not just one that's used to it."

"Curious... Don't let your employer hear you rambling about how nice it is to be Trixie." She looked past Trixie to the door. "I'm calling him in, and he'll give you your job. You perform well, and you'll be paid, and eventually you can do whatever you want. What is your name?"

"Trixie Lulamoon," responded Trixie automatically before she blinked. She knew she had a human name, but it refused to surface. She held her memories all the tighter, lest others escape her.

"Nice to meet you, Trixie. Perhaps, someday, I'll get to see you perform." Fetlock turned away and with a glowing horn, she pressed a button. "She's ready."

Author's Note

Welcome to Equestria, ye human fool. Would you accept such an offer from the good Dr. Fetlock? She assures there are no typos in the contract.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

4 - For You

"Welcome to Rarity For You," came a gentle and friendly voice. The pony it belonged to came into view with a smile to match her voice. It was Coco Pommel. Dashing out ahead of her was a small animal wielding a serving tray. Above them, distant thumps of heavy electronic music somehow added to the ambience.

Trixie felt a smile coming without thinking about it. The sight brought back good human memories. He had seen that episode, but... "Didn't you have a cold and they hired some--pony else?"

Coco tilted her head softly. "Oh, well, yes, for the first week. That didn't mean Rarity had... How do you know about that?"

Bumping in around her, Don nodded curtly. "Hey, get my mare a cape. She really wants one. It better be a good one too."

Coco's eyes widened at the sight of Don Keyworks and nodded as she forced her eyes back to Trixie. "Of course! I knew there was something missing. Are you looking for a cape just like the one you usually wear?"

Trixie stepped forward, but stopped as she almost bumped into the bowl being offered to her by a quiet animal. She lifted it in her magic. "Thank you." The carrot had been good. How bad could the soup be? She sniffed it once, getting a teasing of herbs and salt. A full sip revealed a cooling and refreshing broth. "Mmm."

She hadn't expected the visit to Equestria to be so... gastronomic. "Where was Trixie? Ah, yes, a cape. If you have one just like she usually wears, that would be ideal."

Coco gestured up at a rack against the wall. There were countless capes and cloaks hanging there. "As it turns out, Miss Rarity saw this need coming. Some ponies love to dress as you, ma'am. You have fans."

Trixie felt warmth building. "Of course she does! She is Great and Powerful..." A little voice nagged at her. She hadn't earned that reputation. "She will take one of her own capes then. She trusts this will be free of charge?"

Coco reared back a little in surprise. "What?"

Trixie raised a hoof, waving it in a slow circle. "When is the last time Trixie was paid for the use of her likeness?"

"Um..." Coco took a step back, growing uncertain. "I mean..."

Trixie reached with her magic, snatching one of her capes free of the rack. "Don't you worry. The Magnanimous and Kind Trixie will accept one cape as payment and wish you a fine day." She fastened it around herself, clasping it onto the large jewel in the front. She felt... complete. She was Trixie!

Don's leg came down, pulling her closer and ruining the moment. "You look better. Alright, let's blow this stand. We got things to do."

They left the startled mare behind. She glanced aside at the butlered serving animal beside her. "When did Trixie learn anything about business?" The animal squeaked in reply.

Outside, stepping towards the sidewalk, the Don let out a laugh. "I didn't see that coming. I thought you'ze were a magic pony, not one with a sharp tongue."

"I am a mare of many talents." Trixie's words were full of confidence, even as she slipped away from the hold. "Now where are we going?"

"Where we planned to go for in the first place." He gestured at a taxi, already flagged down by one of his two minions. "It's time we give you your proper test."

They left the densest, richest, parts of Manehattan. Unlike the quiet industrial and storage section they had started in, it become a little more... squalid. The buildings were a touch muted in colors. Things were just that splash more worn down. Ponies wore clothes that looked like they weren't fresh from the cleaners or plucked off a rack moments before.

Trixie decided it didn't have much of a chance of being featured on the show anytime soon. Still, it felt, somehow, more real. Those were ponies that had to work for a living. They had lives, and fought for them. Trixie smiled with her thoughts. How many of them had dead end jobs they dared not quit, no matter how much they might despise it? They were like...

Trixie shook her head. "Like she was, not is."

"What's that?" Don glanced over at her.

"Nothing, Trixie is thinking to herself." Trixie waved it away. She was Trixie, no longer... whatever his name was. She would never push a shopping cart around or help some random person get their bags out to their car. She would never have to force a smile while an idiot rambled at her, keeping her from doing her stupid job.

Still, she felt empathy for the working class of Manehattan. They were still there. Did ponies have nicer dead ends than humans had? She hoped that was the case. No cute colorful pony deserved to have that color ground out of them.

The taxi came to a halt in front of a squat apartment building. Don flipped him a coin and hopped free. "Home sweet home. C'mon, I'll show you around, Tricks." He ascended the steps quickly, his minions close behind.

Trixie followed a short distance behind. As she entered the building, the noises of foals playing street games and carts rolling past went quiet, muffled by the thick brick walls. The door closed itself, a large spring attached to keep it wanting to be closed.

They were crammed into a small elevator. Trixie turned up her nose a little. "There is no room."

Don waved her forward. "Don't be like that. We can fit in one more mare."

"Just tell me what floor to be on," sighed out Trixie, sitting on her haunches there.

"Fourth," he barked as the doors slid shut. She could see the little arrow above the closed door sliding slowly towards the four.

It struck her then. She could run. She could run and maybe never be found. She'd be free to be Trixie!

She would also be... a coward. She would also be broke and alone. She would be a big fat liar on top of that. No. She was many things as a person, but she wasn't dishonest. If she said she'd be there, and she had in asking what floor it was, she would be.

She reached with her magic and jammed the up button.

The elevator descended back towards the first floor and opened, no mobsters inside. She could still run...

She walked onto the elevator and pressed the four button. "Let's do this." She would not flee from an engagement. Was that how Trixie should act? She doubted it. As the elevator chimed and the doors slid open, she stepped out, her steps stiff and awkward.

She had expected a hallway of doors. It was not. She stepped out into a massive suite that looked like it occupied the entire floor of the building. There were many ponies. Some were pretty mares, others were rough-looking stallions. Some drank, some danced, and others played cards. "Trix!" called a voice. It was Don Keyworks, waving at her from beside a sizable map. "Over here."

Trixie hurried over, her hooves silent on the plush carpeting beneath her. Maybe her boss wasn't as small as she was starting to believe. As she trotted, she passed what looked like a roulette table. The mare standing at the end of it shone her horn and it began to spin, to the cheering of the players around it.

"You have a very nice... place here," Trixie noted as she came into easy conversational range. "It is more than Trixie was expecting."

Don brushed off imagined dirt. "As if I'd have anything less, but we could have more, so much more. That's part of why you're here. Protection rackets only take you so far, get me?" He turned to the map and slapped it with a hoof. "Your test will be a heist, a small one. This is just a test, right?"

Trixie tensed. She really was being asked to break pony laws. She was going to be a bad pony... "Trixie is not... sure..."

Don waved it off. "I paid good bits for you, Trixie. You just worry about getting things done. You'll get paid, promise." He cracked a smile. "Besides, we're not bad ponies." Trixie tensed, had he somehow heard her thoughts? "Nopony gets hurt, my number one rule. Besides, we're only taking what they got too much of anyway. You can think of us like some kinda Robin Hood or somethin', right boys?"

"From the Rich, to the poor," agreed one of his minions with a firm nod. "Ain't no harm we get to keep some of it while it moves."

"Yeah, see? We're good ponies. You saw those ponies. We'll make their lives better." He made a broad gesture. "You'll be their hero, and for what, making some rich jerk sad they have to give up their second ivory back scratcher?" He turned back for the map. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, small thing, get you warmed up." He tapped at the map. "Should be easy, for someone as Great and Powerful as you are. There's a big convention in town, and it ain't one of those fun types. Bunch of business-types hobnobbing and talking about more ways to get bits out of the mouths of honest ponies."

Trixie felt a frown coming on, thinking about business people. They hadn't done anything to her, specifically, but it was all too easy to throw some of her hate at them. They had fancy cars. They had jobs worth having. They looked down on her whenever they had to go past her to or from the grocery store. Stupid business people... "What's the plan?"

"Easy." He pulled up another map in his mouth. A minion took it without prompting and had it hung up quickly. It was the interior view of a building schematic. "They'll be fleecing their own, they do that. Ponies need tickets to get into the 'premium' events and shows, and all the biggest wigs want in, so they'll be paying. Bits at the door, stored here." He tapped at what looked to be a small office. "The room's locked tight, of course, but that's where you come in, my lovely blue beauty."

A new mare came at a hurried pace, scowling at Don. "What's this I hear about you walking around town with a new mare under your--" She cut herself off, seeing Trixie. "There you are! You step off my Don! He's mine, you hear!" Trixie barely had time to step back once before the mare was in her face, shoving at her chest forcefully. "Damn mares think they can just show up and bat their lashes at him, and he encourages, that rat bastard, but he's my rat bastard!"

Trixie pointed past the new mare at the map. "Trixie was just learning about her job?"

"Job?" The mare spun around towards Don. "She's a working mare?"

Don laughed and threw a leg over the irate mare, pulling her in close. "Exactly. You're the only mare for me."

"And don't you forget it," she grumbled, but seemed to be calming just as quickly as the storm had come on. "So what does she do?"

"We were just going over that." He reached up with his free hoof, leaning on his mare, who only seemed to enjoy the contact. "As I was sayin', it's locked up tighter than a drum. You, magic mare, will either unlock it, or get past it. Do your magic, get in there, get the cashbox, and get it back here. Ideally will be at the end of the first day, when they've done most of their ticket sales."

Trixie felt her heart slowing, the moment of attack passing. "Will she be working alone, or will there be others there?" She glanced around the room and the many theoretical helpers it held.

"We'll keep an eye on you, but this is your job. You make it work, or not. If you need a stallion, you walk up and ask, tell 'em the job's one I gave you, 'cause it is." He rolled the same hoof at Trixie. "I'll be disappointed if you just force your way in. No one gets hurt. We get our cash, they get to be a little less rich."

Author's Note

Mission get! We also get to meet the still unnamed mare of the Don. She's a real treat, isn't she? Her hasty entry may have knocked some papers off the tables, so sorry for any resulting typos.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

5 - What Can I Do?

Her job in hoof, Trixie trotted off with a cocky smile. Having one felt natural, but so did it falling apart the moment she was in the little filly's room. She sank against the wall of a booth and let out her breath in an explosive gust. "Keep it together, Trixie," she muttered to herself.

All she had to do was sneak into some secure place, grab a box, and get out. How hard could that be? She laughed a little to herself and clapped a hoof over her mouth as she realized how hysterical she sounded. "Okay okay, calm down. Let's review what we can do."

She had been a human, but she was a magic pony. Magic ponies did magic. It was what they were. Trixie cast her eyes upwards and her hat lifted free of her glowing horn. "Telekinesis, check." She looked to the door of the booth as the hat fell back down on her head, blinding her a moment She clip-clopped a moment, hooves striking smooth tile before she pulled the hat back out of the way.

She flopped to her haunches and raised a hoof at the door. "Open!" Her command was not enough to will it open. She tried reaching instead, with her magic. She could see the magic pressing against the door and she bid it slip around it. Ever-so-faintly, she could feel it pressing against the metal from the outside. It was a strange sensation. She couldn't feel 'where' everything was, just that it was there, like her magic was one big, unspecific sensory organ.

She drew it back and flicked her hoof in the way the knob should go. Her magic grabbed it and yanked it aside, opening it.

Looking at her via a reflection in the long mirror in the bathroom was a mare with her brow raised high. She was a pegasus, peering directly at her through the reflection. "Nervous?"

"W-what? The Great and Powerful Trixie does not become nervous," hotly defended Trixie, her face darkening quickly as she scrambled to her hooves.

"It's alright." The pegasus stretched out her wings. "Happens to anypony, really. The boss went and gave you a job right in front of everyone, your first one too! I'd be nervous too." She rolled her eyes as she turned towards Trixie. "Good luck, alright?"

Trixie felt the burning urge to defend her pride, but that wasn't her, was it? She was another person, and she felt grateful that someone cared, even a stranger. "Say... What's your name?"

"Bell Tailslide," she said with a warm smile. "You'll do great, alright?" She held out a hoof.

Trixie trotted free of her stall and met the hoof with one of her own in a firm clop. "Thank you. I'm Trixie, Trixie Lulamoon."

"Nice to meet you, Trixie." She lowered her hoof back to the floor. "I'll see you on the street." She turned and strode free, her light blue-green tail the last thing seen before she was gone.

That was when Trixie realized she was feeling something familiar, yet alien. "Oh..." She realized what it was. She actually did need that stall. For just a moment she looked for a urinal, but it hit her that she was female, and a quadruped. She hurried back into the stall and locked the door. There was a disarmingly-normal looking toilet, though its front extended noticeably.

Did ponies just sit on it?

She supposed that was the option. She hopped up and made sure her tail and cape weren't about to get wet, then let her body do what it wanted to do. Relief flooded her and she sighed as pressure abated within her. Soon she emerged, her tensions lowered on several levels. "You can do this," she reminded herself as she strode for the exit.

None of the others stopped her as she walked past them and the sound of eager gambling. She wondered how common gambling was in Manehattan. It didn't fit what she knew of the city. It might have been a reflection of the New York, but it wasn't that, clearly. As she reached the elevator, she pressed the button with a thought, practicing her magic.

Trixie could do other spells. She remembered it... Wait, when was she in the timeline? Had Trixie learned how to make things into teacups yet?

Did it matter? Trixie, that Trixie, knew it could be done, and even remembered how the lesson went. Just focus on the shape of a teacup and unleash her magic on something. Imagine all the ways that it would turn into a teacup, the more detailed, the better. It was a matter of will and focus. She could do that, right?

Trixie emerged from the elevator into the ground floor of the building that seemed like an ordinary apartment building from anywhere but the floor she had just visited. "A little practice..." She turned to a potted plant that decorated the entry hallway. "Sorry in advance."

The plant did not, and likely could not, reply to her pre-warning. She tried to hold clear the image of the teacup that she wanted. She imagined how the plant might become one, all bright and colorful. She felt power building in her horn, as if her body knew she was about to cast a spell. Good. She lowered her horn towards the plant. "Teacup!"

Bright magic swirled around the plant. With the sound of metal striking the floor, it transformed! It was not a teacup, however. The teakettle wobbled a moment before it stilled. Trixie blinked at her creation. "Huh, well, I still changed it." She smiled and turned for the door. "That's more than I could do this morning!"

She emerged onto the late afternoon street, feeling more confident. She was a pony, a magic one. One of the most magical ones, if one didn't count Twilight and Starlight. Just as the door was about to close behind her, the elevator chimed. Bell came hurrying out towards her, waving a wing at her.

Trixie held the door open for her new friend. "What's going on? You look worried."

Bell pulled a velvet pouch and held it up to Trixie, held in her mouth. "You forgot your stipend."

Trixie willed the bag float from Bell's mouth. "Ah, how silly of Trixie. Thank you." A few bits would certainly make things easier.

Bell saluted with a wing before leaping up into the air. Her wings carried her far and fast, lost around a corner almost instantly. Trixie waved at her as she went then turned back to the street. "Well, now that I have some coins..." She waved down a taxi and hopped aboard with an almost giddy giggle. "Take me to the conference center."

"You got it, Miss." He got to galloping, carrying her smoothly down the streets. Trixie looked over her cab-puller curiously. He was an earth pony, no surprise there. His coloration was more like a cow than a horse though, black and white with spots. He was clearly a pony though, with his upturned ears and swaying, furry, tail. He was also a he, which was hard to miss from the angle given to her.

Trixie looked away with a little chuckle, admonishing herself for peering, even if ponies didn't seem to care. "Did you hear about the conference coming up? Supposed to be a lot of well-to-do ponies in it."

"Oh yeah, sure did." The driver bobbed his head as he went. "I expect some good business carrying ponies to and from there. Rich ponies don't like walking nowhere they don't have to."

Trixie smiled, success... "It's coming up soon, is it not?"

"Just this weekend, right?" He looked over his shoulder a moment, then back forward. "Are you going?"

"Trixie was thinking of stopping by. Perhaps they could have use of some Great and Powerful showmareship."

He laughed at that as he took a left at an intersection. "If you can get their attention away long enough, you're a better pony than I."

Trixie brushed her chest with a hoof. "As if Trixie would fail to entertain." She only realized what she said after saying it, but she didn't take it back. "She is a showsmare, it's what she does."

"Good luck to ya." He pulled up to the curb and slowed. "Here we are. Knock 'em dead!"

"You're too kind." Trixie floated the bag of bits over and bid it open. Peering inside, she saw many coins with subtle differences. She reached in a hoof and tries to let her body decide what was needed. Out came a coin, balanced at the end of her hoof.

"Thanks." He reached over and lipped the coin right from her hoof. "See ya." And off he went, leaving Trixie on the curbside.

Trixie peered at her slightly moist hoof a moment. "Ew..." She shook it a little and turned to the massive building that advertised itself as Manehatten Conference Center. "Trixie has arrived... Let's see what we can see." She trotted for the door, ascending the large stairs the led up to it.

It seemed to be a large open area, designed to funnel massive amounts of ponies at any one time, but that wasn't happening at that moment. It was quiet. There wasn't anyone else standing on the sloping stairs except a lone homeless-looking pony that watched her with faint interest, perhaps hoping for a bit.

The conference hadn't begun yet, so that made sense to Trixie. Despite that, she ambled up to where the stairs gave out and it became a smooth cobbled walkway running along the doors. The glass of the front of the building was almost nothing but doors, double door after double door, ready to open to allow traffic, or perhaps they'd only open some of them if they wanted to control that traffic. Trixie craned her head to look up and saw that there were about four floors to the building. It wasn't the tallest building, by a significant measure. It focused on being wide and deep, rather than the tall sky-scrapers that were around it.

She supposed that made sense for a conference hall. Trixie tapped at her chin thoughtfully, considering the ways she could approach it. "Now's as good a time as any," she spoke to herself as she focused on where the roof met with the wall that she could see. She imagined herself looking down from there even as she cast her eyes across the street, trying to get a proper imagination of all the things she'd see from the new angle. "You can do this..."

She could feel magic gathering in her horn and she smiled. She liked that feeling. She was a magic pony. "Teleportation is teleportation, it doesn't matter what you're sending." She hoped that was true. The show hadn't completely confirmed that. Still, if she could teleport, the whole thing would become a lot easier.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "And... go!"

She felt magic burst out from her horn in an explosion. Everything became white. She felt burning, but it was short-lived. She existed again, wisps of smoke rising from her form. "Ah ha!" she cried before she realized a problem. She had teleported just a few feet off. She was falling.

The ground was rushing up towards her at an uncomfortable speed. She had no time to think. She had an idea and frantically tried to react. She felt the burning. She smashed into the ground, but she hadn't fallen the entire way. She had teleported right back to the ground and flopped out across it with a loud "oof!".

On shaking legs, she stood back up, laughing a little hysterically. That had gone poorly, and yet, perfectly. She could teleport, and that was so much more important than her accuracy. She could improve that. "Oh, Trixie, you are so Great and Powerful." She flopped down on her haunches, grinning despite the pain of two teleports and slapping the ground. "You will handle this perfectly, and then they will cheer for you."

She reached a hoof to brush at some of her sooty front. "First, a bath perhaps?"

Author's Note

Who's a magic pony,
You're a magic pony,
Who is, you is, Trixie Lulamoon,

Is that how it goes? Well, she's managed something, even if it came with a few typos. She can do this! Maybe?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

6 - Makes Perfect

Trixie had retreated, tactfully and confidently. When she emerged from the elevator back onto the casino floor of her boss, he was on her in an instant.

"There's the new star," he had cried, throwing a leg over her. "You have it all figured out?"

Trixie tensed a little. He smelled of heavy cologne now that she thought to check and he was quite pushy, though that was part and parcel for his career. "I have a perfect plan," she replied with a cocky smile. "I need to practice a little before it is implemented. Where is Trixie's room?"

He whistled and the effect was astounding. The only sound was that of dice that had been thrown before the whistle. All eyes in the room were on Don. "Hey, bring Tricks here to a spot of her own."

One of the stallions slid off his chair and got trotting, and that was apparently a cue for the others to resume what they were doing. He grabbed a key off a display with many others, clenched in his teeth, and he came over to Don and Trixie. "Let's go."

Trixie slipped out from under Don. "Let's. Thank you." She followed him into the elevator, thankful to be away from her helpful, if uncomfortable, boss. She decided he still rated higher than the one she had suffered under as a human. As soon as the doors slid shut, she looked aside at the stallion she shared the car with. "So, what sort of place is Trixie being given?"

The stallion gave a toss of his head, hurling the key in Trixie's direction, though she caught it easily. "This building's the Don's. You get an apartment like everypony else."

Trixie blinked softly. An entire apartment to herself? Wait... She had one of those as a human. Still, at least she wasn't downgrading while gaining pony magic. She decided to take that as a positive. "Very generous of him." She turned the key in her magic. There was a 404 written on it. She cracked a smile. "Error 404, room not found."

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Trixie clapped a hoof over her snout. Humor like that wouldn't have a home among the ponies.

The elevator chimed as they reached the fourth floor. The stallion stepped out and turned to the right. "It's just there." He swept along the right side of the hall. "Evens. Just follow it, and good luck."

Trixie looked along. Each door had a little plate above it with its number. "Trixie can figure this out. Take it easy."

"Yea sure." He reached out a hoof, pressing the elevator call. "If you need help with the heist, you let me know."

Trixie perked an ear at him. Was he being nice? Or... "Do we get a cut of what we get?"

He grinned. "'Course. Bigger the take, bigger the cut. It sounds like the big man has you on a fat target." The elevator chimed as it arrived and the doors slid open. The stallion stepped forward into it. "Let me know. I'm ready." The doors slid shut and carried the pony away.

Trixie tapped her chin. The way she saw it, the more ponies she had, the more she'd probably have to divide it with. If she could manage it on her own, that would be ideal. Besides, she was Great and also Powerful, and she could manage her first real performance. She just needed...

Her thoughts trailed off as she reached her door. She thrust the key in her mental grip and it slid easily into the lock. A quick twist and she felt the internal mechanism slide into place. She released the key and grabbed the knob in her magic, giving it a twist and a push.

The door slid easily, revealing her apartment. And what an apartment it was, finely appointed with hanging lights, paintings, and mostly new-looking appliances she could see even from the doorway. "Wow." She had an apartment as a human, she was certain of it, but it didn't look so... nice. She took a step forward and her hooves sank into soft carpeting. She didn't have soft carpeting! She had carpeting, she remembered, but it was short and functional.

She shook her head and turned, reclaiming her key before closing her door. "Does he keep all the rooms this nice?" she muttered to herself as she twisted the lock, securing herself in her new space. She pressed into her new space. Everything seemed... soft. She reached a hoof to tap at the rim of her toilet. Even that was soft, cushioned. "This is a bit much."

She imagined the stallion she had come with and the others like him. Did they also live in soft places? It didn't seem their style.

That's when it hit her. She was given a soft room. The goon had selected the room, and probably knew what it was. "Well, someone just made sure they're not picked." She stuck out her tongue as she came out into the dining room where she could see most of the rest of the apartment. Part of her wanted to try out that couch. It was curved and likely as soft as everything else.

As insulted as she felt, she planned to enjoy her new, comfy, home. But first! First....

She was hungry. She trotted into the kitchen and willed the fridge open. It was empty. It was cool and operational, but empty. She would have to fix that, later... She grabbed a phone she saw hanging out on the counter. Holding the receiver, she looked it over for buttons, but there were none. They were back on the base of the phone, which it was attached to with a coiled cord. "Oh, right, old school." She felt a pang of sorrow for not having a cellphone.

She didn't know the number to call... Ah ha! She willed the 0 be pressed.

"Manehatten Bell, how can we direct your call?" came a friendly male voice.

"Oh, hello there." Trixie smiled into the phone as she spoke, "I'm trying to order some food and I don't know any of the numbers."

"I'd be happy to help. Is there a particular kind of food you were trying to get?" asked the unknown stallion.

Trixie tapped her chin. She wanted to try all kinds of pony foods, but she was hungry, and she had work to do. "Let's keep it simple. How about some pizza?"

"I'll connect your call. You have a good day."

"You too," replied Trixie with a smile. Why had they ever gotten rid of operators? That was so much nicer than googling up an answer. She heard a faint buzzing, then a click.

"Cheesy Slice," said a female voice with a thick Manehattan accent. "What can I get for yas?"

Trixie felt a breath escape. Food was getting closer. "Yes, hello. Trixie is hungry and would like whatever the special of the day is, please."

"One everythin' but the sink, coming up! Are you picking up or are we comin' to you?" Trixie could hear her writing something down and the noises of the kitchen filtered through the phone.

"Please deliver it..." Oh. She didn't know her address. She clenched her teeth. "One moment!" She set the phone receiver down and suddenly there was stinging pain. It was less than the last two times. She appeared in front of the house with a pop, startling a mare and her foal. She looked left and right, checking the road signs. "Got it."

With another pop, she appeared back in her room, mildly sizzling. "I'm getting better..." She grabbed the receiver in her magic and pulled it up. "Please tell me you're still there."

"Address?"

Trixie recited her address proudly. "Room 404."

"That'll be four bits plus tip." With an abrupt click, the call was ended.

Trixie set the receiver back on the base. "Huh, ponies have tips. Right!" She remembered Rarity giving a tip, in Manehatten too of all places! She dug out her bag of bits and spilled them out across the dining room table. "Time to learn money." She reached with her hooves and began pushing them around. Most of them had a little 1, but some reported themselves as 5 and she even spied a 10 in there.

With her magic, she sorted them into piles, then set a five aside. "I'll let the delivery pony just keep this, tip included." The rest she put away. "Trixie, you are learning how this works. You should be proud." And, she was. It was little things that a pony would have already known, but she was picking it up, and felt accomplished.

Money secured, payment arranged, and food on the way, Trixie's thoughts rose beyond survival back to her mission. "I need to get this right." She took a slow breath. "Teleporting shouldn't be painful. It hurt Twilight the first time she tried it, but she got better. I have to be better."

She pointed to the couch that looked so comfortable. "And... go!" She ceased to exist, then popped into place a few inches above the couch. She crashed down onto it and discovered it was just as soft as it looked. She sank into its welcoming embrace. Perhaps it had been the stress of learning magic, or just relief that she had gotten it so close to right, but she lost track of the world until a loud clopping stirred her from her sleep, spittle trailing from her snout into the soft folds of the couch.

She half-fell from the couch to the soft carpeting and scrambled towards the door. "Coming!"

She wrenched the door open to reveal a thin and lanky colt. She guessed he was the pony equivalent of a teenager. He blushed at seeing her. "O-oh, hello ma'am!" He bent back and grabbed a pizza box in his teeth and brought it around towards her. "One pizza!"

Trixie wrapped it in her magic and lifted it away from him even as she grabbed the coin off the table and brought it over. Multi-tasking her grabbings wasn't nearly as hard as she imagined it might have been. "Here you are. Trixie is looking forward to this."

He accepted the bit on an upturned hoof, then tucked it away in one of those pockets a pony shouldn't have, but did. "Thank you. Please order me again." He tensed and paled. "I mean! Cheesy Slice hopes you order again soon!" He scrambled away, blushing fiercely.

Trixie shook her head at the retreating youth. Hormones, right? She laughed to herself even as she closed the door. She was too happy about having food to really be angry at the awkward not-even-meant come on of some teenaged colt. She set the box down on the dining room table and popped it open. Cheese and tomato sauce assaulted her senses, mixed with hints of garlic and roasted vegetables. There was no meat. How could she have ordered a 'everything but the sink' and gotten no meat?

Right. Pony. Still, it was a colorful explosion of more veggies than she would have ever considered gracing a pizza. She could smell them blended together in curious patterns she had never experienced before. She was looking forward to trying it. She was a pony. Ponies loved veggies, and oats. Were there oats? She leaned in, squinting. Yes, there were grains of some kind sprinkled in among the rest of the flavor riot.

She grabbed a slice, specifically trying to take it from all sides at once, to make a perfect lift that, as a human, would have been difficult to do. Like magic, since it was magic, it lifted into the air, cut perfectly.

It was also hot! She was reminded that her magic did have senses. Strange, uniform, senses, but senses all the same. She dropped the pizza with a surprised yelp, the slice flopping on top of a few other slices.

Smiling awkwardly, she grabbed some plates from the kitchen, and a fork too. "Just because you can use magic, maybe it doesn't mean you should, all the time."

Author's Note

Lodging, food, practice bending reality to one's whims. Isn't this what every mare wants?

I want to try a slice of that pizza... Would that be a typo for me?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

7 - That's Your Cue.

Trixie's eyes swept back and forth as she trotted down the street. In front of her, a newspaper hovered faithfully for her perusing pleasure. "Mmm..." She ducked to the right, avoiding colliding with another pony. She hadn't seen them, not exactly, but she'd had a feeling and didn't argue it. "Mmm..." The newspaper had details about the conference she was about to rob.

How had she arrived at that point? She dimly recalled a different life. She pushed things. Big heavy things that would get bigger and heavier the more she pushed them. She would help people, usually alright people, but she remembered not-nice people too, all growing hazy.

She shook her head suddenly, jostling the cobwebs. "I was a human," she said to herself, a reminder. She had worked at a supermarket. She had an apartment. It was a stupid dead-end job, but it had been hers, and she didn't want to forget that. It made being a magic pony all the sweeter.

She had also been a guy, which felt increasingly... strange... to think about. She was a mare. There was little room for doubt, and every day she was casually reminded a few times. But she had been male, and she held that memory close as well. She would not let that stupid doctor win. She'd play her part and be herself. She'd win her freedom, then do whatever she wanted, as a magic pony.

Angrily, she crumpled up the paper and sent it flying at a trash can. It was just a bit off target and hit the rim. Just as it was about to bounce off of it into the road, she grabbed it in her magic and made it circle dramatically before falling into the trash properly. She had meant to do that, or at least she told herself that.

She could see the conference center, rising tall and imposingly. "Time to scout." She approached at a casual trot. The conference was coming up the next day. Other ponies came and left, those who worked there, either for the center, or for the conference itself.

She saw there was a dangling bit of a card around their necks that identified them. She wanted one of those, but how to get one? She went right up to the door with a cocky smile.

A large stallion sat on a seat just inside and put out a hoof to block her way. "Sorry, miss."

Trixie raised a brow at him. "You will be sorry if you get in the way of Trixie inspecting her workplace before she has to perform."

The stallion perked up. "Huh?"

"Did Trixie stutter? She is to perform." She pointed into the conference center. "They said I could come inspect the venue beforehand." She reached behind the stallion's ear and pulled free a long and colorful string of cloth, one kerchief after the other, all tied together. "How is Trixie to plan her act if you stand in the way?"

"Coming through!" called someone behind Trixie. A glance revealed large carts of materials were rolling towards them. The guard hopped to his hooves and got to opening two doors instead of one to allow the carts inside.

Trixie smiled, victory in sight. As the carts rolled past, she went with them, casually keeping them between herself and the guard.

He blinked as the carts went past. Wasn't he talking to somepony? There was no one there anymore... He closed the extra door and sat down, ready to do his job.

Trixie broke away from the carts and looked around the towering conference center from the inside. Wide open spaces left plenty of room for many ponies to walk around. Doors led to big conference rooms, where various discussions and panels would be held, she imagined. It was all a little bare, still being set up in a flurry of activity.

She had seen the map, she knew where she had to be. She kept walking, always kept walking. She had to look like she was supposed to be there, which meant not looking like an awestruck tourist. She had someplace to be. She was important! Of course she was, she was Trixie, who was both Great and Powerful.

She strode purposefully to where the operations were, and the money would be held. She walked past the door casually, as if her target were on the other side, even as she looked inside as best she could in the act. There were only two ponies present. Most of them, she guessed, were busy setting up the conference. There were some tables, a filing cabinet, and wide-bottomed pony chairs. It wasn't a glamorous room, but it became a room Trixie knew, which she hoped would make getting to it later just a little--

Her thoughts were interrupted by a large shape suddenly in front of her. "Miss?" asked the large stallion. "You don't have a badge."

"That is because Trixie got lost on the way to get one," deflected Trixie with a smile at the large pony. "Can you point the way?"

"Just outside," he said in firm tones. He thrust a hoof back towards the entrance. "That way."

"Ah, very good." Trixie turned in place and began trotting without delay. "Thank you." The stallion watched her go, clearly suspicious of her, but she did leave as requested, and he didn't seem interested in following her outside. He'd done what he meant to do, getting the unknown out of there.

Trixie had done what she meant to do. She knew where the room was, and what it basically looked like. She knew with her own hooves how far inside the conference center it was, rather than a map. Maps were nice, but didn't give 'feelings', and she needed that if she hoped to teleport without incident.

Free of the conference, she trotted away as if nothing important had happened.

"Trixie!"

She blinked and looked around before a tapping brought her vision down to a little filly waving excitedly at her. "Hello?" she offered, uncertain.

"Hello, Trixie! You're my favorite magician!" She clip-clopped her hooves together excitedly. "Can you do a trick?"

Trixie felt a blush coming on. She had never done a magic show. That was the... real Trixie. She was a Trixie, but not that one. Still, sending the filly away felt like a horrible thing to do. "The Great and Powerful Trixie can afford a moment for her adoring fans." The filly's grin grew almost worryingly wide.

Trixie returned the smile in a more sedate expression before she reared up onto her hind legs. She threw her forehooves wide and sparkles shot out in either direction. "You've come for a display of magic and--"

"--Actually," cut in the filly, bouncing in place a little. "Could you tell me one of your stories?"

Trixie crashed down to all fours, stunned. "Oh. Is there a particular story you wanted to hear from Trixie?" The filly wasn't there to see magic? The very idea baffled Trixie.

"A new one!" she cried excitedly. Another little pony, a colt, poked her and pointed at Trixie. "Yeah, it's Trixie, and she's gonna tell me a new story!" The colt sat down next to his friend, apparently also ready to hear the new story.

Before Trixie knew what was happening, ponies began to gather, as if their herding instinct just compelled them to join the forming crowd. She had so many eyes on her, waiting for a new story of magic and amazingness. It was her cue to act. "There she was, in the frozen north." Trixie pointed in the direction she was pretty sure north was. "The snow drove down in thick sheets, not allowing Trixie to see more than an inch in front of her own snoot." She raised a hoof to her nose, booping herself. "Not that she could even feel it in all the cold, brrr."

The foals giggled at the story, their eyes locked on the storyteller they had roped into the performance. The colt from before waved a hoof excitedly. "Did you get lost forever?!"

The filly ribbed him with an elbow. "Don't be stupid, she's right there, and let her finish her story!"

Trixie's smile deepened as she got into the groove. "Trixie thought she might become that, lost forever in endless snow, perhaps to be found years later as a Trix-scicle. But! She pressed on! She had to reach that precious place, to free the ponies that had been trapped there for so long."

She focused her magic as she drew in a deep breath. With a slow exhalation that sounded like a chill wind, she willed her magic to go along, and it did, thankfully. Her cheeks grew cold as she blew out mildly cold air, washing out over the crowd as she turned to face each group of them. They applauded the special effect, immersed in the idea of cold. It came so much more naturally. She was Trixie. Trixie was a stage magician, and she was in her element. Her magic would cooperate with her.

"Just when Trixie thought she had taken her last step, the last struggling step she could manage, her hoof struck something besides snow." She looked around and saw a mailbox. She hurried over to it and tapped a hoof on it. It made an appropriately metallic and hollow sound. "Just like that, and Trixie rejoiced! It was exactly what she had been searching for."

And so Trixie's story went on, growing more and more bold and magical until she was the one that pulled the Crystal Empire out of the void it had been trapped in. "She would have helped them after that, but she was very cold and hungry, so she left, confident that others would soon arrive to finish the job." She polished her chest with a hoof. "The Humble and Defferential Trixie did not stay long enough for even the crystal ponies to know what she had done, and now they make statues of other heroes, and that's alright." Trixie dipped her head. "Trixie knows what she did, and that's good enough." She was also gloating about it to a crowd, but let's not get confused.

Hooves stomped on the sidewalk as ponies cheered and called. Most of the crowd were younger, but there were a good number of older ponies too. The adults in the crowd threw some bits at her that she gladly grabbed from the air with her magic. One pony emerged from the crowd, his pelt glittering in the light. It was a crystal stallion!

"I... had no idea," he started, awkwardly squirming. "We just thought the spell that banished us expired, but I guess the odds of that happening are pretty small compared to somepony actually causing it to end. Um... thank you." He dropped down to one knee, bowing before Trixie. "We are forever indebted to the Great and Powerful Trixie."

Trixie felt her face heating. It was one thing to make up a story to entertain foals. She hadn't meant to... "You are very welcome, but let's keep this between us." She wobbled a hoof between herself and the stallion. "Trixie is perfectly happy as she is. She does not need statues of herself." Would the real Trixie ever say that? "Please, forget you heard a thing."

"I'll never forget this," argued the pony with a timid grin. "But I'll keep it a secret if you prefer, Great and Powerful Trixie."

That would have to do. "Yes, please. Now, Trixie must be off. Who knows when another set of ponies may have need of her astounding magic!?" She turned away from the crowd and got to trotting as quickly as she could without breaking into a gallop.

She had seen her target, and made a few extra bits by storytelling. All in all, she decided it hadn't been a poorly spent day at all. She smiled as he went down the road. Telling that story had been kind of fun...

Author's Note

The best part is that you can't prove Trixie didn't do it.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

8 - Make or Break

Trixie pulled down her new mask. It clung to her face and obscured her lovely features behind black gauze, concealing her identity. She wasn't wearing her usual pointed hat. She wasn't wearing her flowing cape. She was a ninja. A magical ninja, specifically. The only part of her that was visible was her tail.

Apparently, most pony clothes just got out of the way of tails, rather than trying to conceal them. Trixie was not a tailor, and she wasn't up to trying to zap the clothing. She had to save her magic. It was the big day, or night, as it were. Evening? Evening was the most accurate.

She nodded to herself as she looked around her apartment, going over the details in her head on last time. "Alright, you can handle this, Trixie." She smiled at a mirror, but she couldn't see the smile, hidden behind the cloth sock as it was. "You're a better wizard then the original."

Maybe not in showmareship, but in practical magic, she was reaching and taking all she would need to pull it off without being thrown in jail and them throwing away the key. Besides, she wanted to get paid, and then she could be free, and magic, and a pony. All the things she wanted, so long as she didn't mess up.

She looked aside at the clock. "It's time." She raised her head, visualizing the convention center. She could imagine herself walking in, towards the office with a purposeful stride. There it was, in her mind's eye. She walked just beyond the door, where no one would put anything for want of having the door be available.

That was where she wanted to be. No. That was where she was, or so she commanded it to be. With a rush, she could feel herself falling between Here and There, two very different places. She was getting used to it, and she swam through it instead of plummeting and burning.

With a shower of sparkles, she appeared somewhere else, her apartment long left behind. It wasn't nearly as dark as she imagined it might have been. The lights were on, but she didn't see any ponies. The room was much more cluttered than she originally saw. Besides papers being basically everywhere, she saw some stands and large signs propped up against basically everything.

What she didn't see in the crowded-feeling room was a cash box. She advanced into the room, looking around with a quiet grumble of concentration. Box, likely metal... probably... rectangular... She nudged a few things out of the way, knocking over a cardboard cutout of a smiling business mare in the process. She flinched at the noise and went still.

She could hear someone approaching. She dove under the closest table and thought as hard as she could, "I am invisible. All light passes through me. I am not even a shadow!"

The door swung open and a stallion poked his head in, peeking left and right with a frown. "Huh... I don't see anything."

Another, female, voice called out from behind him, "Is everything where it should be? Check the cash box. If we lose that..."

"Yeah yeah." He trotted inside, his hooves thudding the ground with a force that felt like thunder, too close to Trixie's face for for comfort. He buried his face in a mass of papers, pens, and buttons and came free with a grey rectangular box with rounded edges. "It's here."

A mare appeared in the doorway, frowning. "Good, put it down." The moment he released it, she waved him from the room. "We need to get that sensor calibrated. That's the third time it's gone off today."

"Yeah..." He trotted over to join her. "Where to?"

Trixie felt sweat trickling down her forehead with the effort of keeping the significant spell in place, but she dared not move. She wasn't even entirely sure if she was breathing.

"Patrol the third floor." She pointed up with a hoof. "Back to business as usual, but if the sensor goes off, you are coming back here. I don't care how many times it goes off."

"Yeah yeah." He walked past her and sped into a trot.

The mare peered into the room once more, her eyes scanning intensely. Trixie trembled faintly when it felt like their eyes met, but the mare kept looking right past her, not seeing the invisible unicorn. "Huh..." She closed the door, leaving Trixie alone.

Trixie sat perfectly still, only the sound of her thundering heart to keep her company. Only when it began to calm and she could properly hear that nothing else was moving did she dare to emerge, the spell fading and allowing her to be seen once again.

There was the box, no longer hidden beneath the clutter. She smiled with triumph as she quickly approached it. They had mentioned a sensor. Did it detect Trixie's teleporting? Had her knocking over the display only warned herself rather than any pony outside? It wasn't impossible. What if it could figure out where she teleported back to?

She shook her head. She was already there. She was already holding the box. She had to take it, and she'd have to teleport out. But... She didn't have to teleport home. She would give that stupid sensor somewhere else to worry about. With a triumphant smirk, she picked up the cash box in her teeth.

Ugh, it still had some spittle from the last pony that held it. How did earth ponies put up with it?! She shook her head, the box rattling dangerously, and heavily, in the motion. It was time to go. With a clear vision, she ceased to be in the office. She appeared in an alleyway.

It wasn't even a special alley. It was just one she had seen several times on her way around the city. It had stuck out in her mind for having a basketball hoop attached to one of the buildings, and for being otherwise empty. Poor ponies didn't sleep there at night. It was just half a basketball game someone had set up, and then nobody she ever saw actually used. It was almost a sad story.

But that wasn't a time for sad stories. Trixie set down her box and put her hoof on it triumphantly. She had done it! She had the cash box! That was when she realized she still had to get home with it. Her ninja-suit would only make her stand out instead of hiding her.

Or...

She could go naked. It wasn't like that was a crime with ponies. She felt heat rushing to her face considering it. She remembered her humanity. She remembered clothing being a default. Only perverts and the insane romped through the streets without anything.

But she wasn't human. She was a pony, a magic pony. She nodded to herself, trying to convince herself even as she scooted behind a garbage dumpster and began divesting herself of her suit. Soon she could feel the chill breeze of the night wafting over her exposed form. She had fur, certainly, but she could still feel the wind, and it ran over her in ways it had not when she wore her cloak and hat.

She was exposed, and she didn't much like it. She grabbed the cash box in her magic and took a slow breath. She just had to act natural and trot home. She glanced aside at the floating box. "Right, that's not suspicious at all." It looked like a cash box. It couldn't be many other things.

Ponies had pockets, right? She reached a hoof back and patted herself down, trying to find hers. "Why didn't I practice this?" She had worked so hard to get all the other angles down. The need for a pocket hadn't been one of those angles she considered.

She couldn't find it, no matter how much she pushed and pulled at her blue sides. There was no time to keep looking. That alarm had gone off. They were likely finding their money was gone. They would go looking for it, and the thief, whoever they may be. The police may be called, however effective or not a pony cop was.

Ah ha! Inspiration struck her with a broad smile. She rushed over to her abandoned suit and quickly wrapped it around the box. Now she was just holding a bundle of cloth. No box was in sight. With a giggle of joy, she emerged from the alley and began trotting her way home. That had worked, and she hadn't even left the suit behind. Did ponies have genetic forensics? She doubted it, but no reason to leave the suit if she didn't have to.

She took a few turns she didn't have to, looped a block or three out of the way. She felt silly for doing it, but one couldn't be too sure after stealing some unspecified but large amount of bits. She jumped like a startled cat when a car went racing past, red and blue lights flashing before it turned swiftly at the next corner and was gone, leaving Trixie to slump against a wall, panting.

"Are they looking for me?" It wasn't impossible that they were. The police were racing to the convention center, probably, to hear what had happened, and then begin investigating. She picked up her pace, her route becoming much more direct in her haste to get back in the relative safety of Don's building.

When the building came into view, there was an easily identified pony standing out in front, with a mare hanging from him. Don smiled with a big grin that only seemed to get wider the closer Trixie got. His eyes darted between her and the bundle that floated beside her. "Here she is, hero of the hour. C'mon." He turned, holding his marefriend close as he ascended the stairs towards the building.

Trixie met eyes with that marefriend, but she looked about as happy as Don, no longer glaring daggers at her.

Everyone loves a winner? Trixie felt the smile infecting her, striding up the stairs with triumphant steps. "It's good to be home."

As they rode the elevator up to Don's party and lounge floor, he faced her. "You're all over the news, at least, what you did is, get it? They have no idea who did done it, exactly the way I wanted it."

The mare laughed, leaning towards Trixie while keeping a leg around Don Keyworks. "You've got those stuffy ponies running 'round in circles." She flashed her teeth. "They say they're considering if it's an inside job."

Don nodded somberly. "Turns out their security was behavin' on the fritz before you even showed up." Trixie nodded in remembrance of that, but he continued, "Sounds too much like someone was trying to cover for you. Don't suppose you sweet-talked some pony into talking the fall?"

Trixie shook her head quickly. "No! No... I just practiced what I needed, and... I did it." She smiled as her chest fluffed out. "There she was, Great and Powerful, but also Stealthy and Subtle. They almost found her! But she vanished like a lost shadow." She waved her hooves to emphasize just how hidden she was, blocking her face with her arms a moment. "When they left, so did she, and poof, she was gone, with not a hint left behind for them to find later."

With a chime, the elevator door opened out into the lounge floor. Don pulled his leg free from around his mare and strode out. "And here she is," he boomed. "We got ourselves a magic operative, and she struck gold. Drinks are on me tonight, boys!" The room erupted into cheers even as he turned around. "Now then, Trixie, lessee what you got out with." He held out a hoof expectantly.

Trixie floated over the bundle of clothes even as she began pulling them free, letting them rain to the floor and reveal the box to the room's eager eyes.

He tried to open it, but it was, perhaps predictably, locked. "Unless you have an unlocking spell, you're gonna have to share a little with one of our lock jocks."

Trixie frowned without thinking at first, but forced it away. There was nothing for it. She did not know how to pick a lock, and she didn't want to hurl magic at the thing that held her payment. "Very well, but Trixie did most of the work. She could bash it open if she had to."

Don waved it away as he turned to the eager sea of eyes. He pointed to one lanky stallion, who rushed up immediately. "All yours, make her sing." Don shoved the box into the chest of the stallion.

"You got it, boss." He set it down and seemed to spit out a lockpick from within his mouth to dangle at his lips. He proceeded to kiss the lock of the box in a passionate display of larceny. With a loud click that made everyone's heart jump, he twisted his head, and the box popped open, revealing glittering gold, gems, and other bits of value for all to see.

Author's Note

Trixie is victorious! After planning and practice, she executed things fairly well. A pony or three may be fired... A typo of justice.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

9 - Mare on the Town

Trixie smiled at the collection of large-denomination bits that Don dropped into a new bag. "And to the victor goes the spoils, as they say."

His mare shook her head. "Who says that?"

Don snorted at that, ignoring the question as best he could even as he muttered in a grumble at his 'smart' saying being missed. "You did good."

Trixie plucked up the bag in her magic. "Yes she did, but now that that is done, I can go, yes?"

Don brushed the floating bag aside. "Don't be in a rush. This was just a test run, a successful one." He nudged Trixie's shoulder with a firm hoof. "But go on, take a break. I don't treat my ponies bad, right?" The room echoed with cheers from other ponies enjoying their free drinks. "Ya see? Take a few days off, unpack. I'll let you know when I have the next thing that needs yer expertise like."

Trixie tucked her bag away in a pocket in her cape. "Can you give me an estimate of how..." Her question trailed off, seeing Don was already walking away, the rest of the cash under a leg. He was talking to other ponies, and not Trixie.

She was not being set free that day. On the other... hoof... she had a little vacation, and money to spend on it. And that could all wait until she got some sleep.

A new day dawned. The sun shone brightly, right into Trixie's face. She was laying in her bed, her blanket a mess from her night-time fidgeting. With a sleepy murmur, she blinked open her eyes, only to squeeze them shut again. "Some things don't change," she half laughed as she rolled free of the bed. Pony or human, mornings were mornings.

She trotted to the bathroom and began the ritual of greeting the day. The shower worked and was large enough for her to stand in four-leggedly, but standing up was much nicer, allowing the water to cascade down her blue form as she cleaned herself with a magic-held loofah. "Day off," she sang as she turned. "I could do anything at all. Just have to avoid the curve ball."

She was singing and rhyming, and only just noticed it as she emerged from the shower and got to drying herself vigorously. "I didn't even know Trixie could sing, What other things will today bring!" She was stuck in it, unable to escape whatever strange impulse was driving her need to vocalize her thoughts.

With a twirl she emerged from the bathroom, singing about getting breakfast. "With just a peek inside the fridge there. The lack of food is something I should be ware... of." She blushed at her miss-step, could ponies mess up the songs forced on them? Still, it was true. The fridge had some food in it, but it was all leftovers. Still, cold pizza was better than nothing. She grabbed a slice in her magic and got to chewing, still singing fairly well despite that.

"I have to get dressed to look my best." Her glowing horn grabbed her hat and cape swiftly, adorning herself. "And perhaps a few bits. A mare needs a touch of glitz! Today is going to be grand!" She scooped up her bag of coins as she dashed out the door. Perhaps because of the song magic, but the door to the elevator swung open just as she reached it.

There was a bouncing mare inside, bobbing to the tune of the song that apparently had them both securely in its grasp. "Just finished with a big job, can't wait!" She pressed the close button once Trixie was inside. "Oh hello, good to talk and maybe debate." She leaned in closer to Trixie, smiling joyfully. "Perhaps a movie? That'd be groovy."

Trixie waved off the idea. "Just sitting still is not what Trixie wants!" she sang out, holding the last word with a trembling note. "Excitement and magic, a little surprise. Where can she go to get this prize?"

Even as the elevator sank, the other mare leaned in. "Ice skating is quite a treat, or perhaps you'd rather visit the beach? Catch some rays and maybe a wave, get some of that excitement that you crave." With a soft ding, the door opened and the mare sprang out, Trixie only inches behind. They had arrived at the ground floor.

"Good luck," she sang, waving. The song magic was gone.

"Oh, um, thanks." Trixie returned the wave, feeling awkward. Being a pony was strange at times.

She still liked it.

Trixie trotted out onto the street, the sun still warm overhead, even if it had to get through the spaces between buildings to reach her properly. The traffic was bustling and ponies were moving animatedly up and down the street. She could see some foals, maybe teenagers, in an alleyway a bit to the left, playing some variation on basketball.

Ponies were talking, walking, cheering, and living. Trixie descended the steps to join them, a smile on her face. The question was what to do with her time, and payment. For all her grand plans of not sitting somewhere, she was... still that flawed human. Sitting somewhere didn't sound that bad, so long as it was somewhere interesting.

As she walked, she spotted a young foal waving a newspaper animatedly at anypony that so much as glanced at him. Trixie approached with a gentle smile. "I'll take one, if you have change."

She placed one of her larger bits down in his dropped hat. The colt whistled and quickly got to fishing up most of the other coins to make change. "Here y'go! Um, enjoy the paper!"

"Trixie will, thank you." She unfurled the paper and let her eyes sweep over it. The writing was not English, but if she relaxed, it was understandable. It was written in the language of ponies, and she was one of those. What even was English anyway? She couldn't clearly remember how the words used to look.

She froze. She had just lost a memory. She had a clear image of what an English word looked like just moments before, and then... gone. She had literally traded knowledge of one written language for another, and it terrified her just a little. What other little exchanges had she been doing over time? Would she just... become Trixie some day, entirely, with no knowledge of her past?

With a powerful shudder, Trixie shook her head and almost angrily trotted down the street. The paper floating in front of her suddenly bopped her on the snoot as it crumpled backwards. She had run right into a pony. "Sorry."

"I'm walkin' here!" complained the stallion she'd crashed into. "Watch where yer goin'." With a snort of indignation, he accelerated away from Trixie.

With the sound of wings, a pony landed beside her. It was one she recognized. "It's your day off, right?" asked Bell Tailslide, the mare she had met in a bathroom. "Whatcha got planned?"

Trixie smiled as she raised a hoof, tapping at the paper held in her magic. "That is precisely what Trixie was trying to decide."

"Well, the way I see it, you got some bits to spare, why not live a little?"

Trixie cocked a brow. "She is listening..."

Bell rolled her hooves, one over the other as she sat up on her haunches. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not asking for handouts. Have you been to Manehatten before?" When Trixie shook her head, Bell only grinned wider. "Then the places you need to go are many, and I just happen to know a few of them. First, ain't nobody visiting this city without at least walking down Bridleway."

Broadway, Trixie's mind quietly corrected, and she smiled. She held that memory close like a treasured friend. "What sorts of shows do they have there?"

"All kinda, but I'm just listing places. Where was I? Oh yeah! Ya gotta lay your peepers on the statue!" She pointed right through buildings to where some statue theoretically stood. "She's bigger than most buildings, holding a torch up high. She's a symbol of the city!"

The pony version of the Statue of Liberty? Trixie nodded softly. "That sounds interesting, yes. What else would you suggest?"

"Ya like nature? Central Park's an easy bet." Bell turned to point in a different direction. "Nice and big, lots of people doing things, snacks to enjoy. Sometimes there are shows, and there are shops around it, ya know, take the load off that bit purse of yours."

Bit purse... That was a thing Trixie did not have but suddenly wanted to have.

"But those are small-time compared to the offerings just off of Bridleway in Whinny Square." Bell clopped her hooves together, then fell forward. "Anyway, you have a great time."

Trixie blinked with sudden surprise. "Wait, you weren't going to come with me?"

Bell laughed and punched Trixie's closest shoulder lightly with a hoof. "Thanks for inviting me, but I have a job, and Don doesn't like being made to wait. You know how it is." She lifted into the air, the traffic along the sidewalk immediately flowing into the available spot. "Have fun!" And she was gone, darting quickly around a corner.

Trixie folded up her paper as she walked. "I thought for sure she was trying to score at least a free lunch." But Bell hadn't, and it almost disappointed her. She would rather have had a slightly mooching companion than be alone, she realized.

Still, it was far too late to do a thing about that. Trixie soldiered on, only to come to a pause as she noticed a rather large building across the way. She felt drawn to it and crossed both streets to get closer to it. It was a museum. Specifically, it was a museum of pony art. She giggled like a girl as she ascended the marble stairs towards it. She wanted to see pony art. It was like browsing the... Browsing... She went still, making other ponies swerve around her with angry grumbles.

She used to browse. She was sure of it. What did she browse? Art. She browsed art, yes. She did something... to get... to... the art...

Trixie frowned as she leaned against the cool stone base of a statue of a roaring lion. The memory was so close. She didn't want to lose another. How did she find the Internet? Wait, that was it! Her smile returned brilliantly. She browsed the Internet to find art, of course. It all flooded back to her, memories of many a night, or day, chatting with other people she knew from that nebulous place and the things she'd find and stare at.

Trixie sank to her haunches with a sigh of relief. She had, for the first time, reclaimed a memory. She didn't even know she could do that, but the fact that she did was like a great pressure taken from her. Her descent into ponydom didn't have to be purely a one way road.

Reinvigorated, she hopped back up onto her hooves and trotted up to the ticket counter. There were four ponies ahead of her, but the wait wasn't long for her turn.

"Welcome to the Musuem of Pony Art History. How can I help you?" asked the mildly bored, but smiling, stallion behind the glass.

Trixie nodded at him. "Trixie would like a ticket please. She wishes to see the art."

"You've come to the right place. 3 bits please." His hoof came down on a comically large button and a ticket popped free just in front of Trixie.

Trixie quickly fished out her big bag and peeked inside, taking 3 single-bit coins and setting them in the dip between her side and his side. He reached in and scooped up the coins in his hoof. "Have a nice visit. Please, no flash photography, it can damage the art."

Trixie perked an ear. "Is there non-flash photography?" She dimly recalled pictures being easy to take in the human world, with and without flash.

"Not that I've seen," admitted the ticket stallion. "Next!"

Trixie took the hint and scooted out of the way so the next pony could approach.

She had a museum to explore.

Author's Note

Trixie gets a day off! Woo! What would you do if you had a day off in Manehattan?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

10 - Fine Things

Trixie walked through the marble hallways of the museum, her hooves echoing with every step. It felt loud and boorish to trot in such a place, and she slowed to a leisurely walk as her eyes wandered from painting to painting. She recognized many of them, clearly pony derivatives of the human ones she had seen before she become Great and Powerful.

Still, she had never seen them in person. Many of them weren't even in glass. Ponies just trust each other a little more. Even as a thief walked among them. Trixie blushed softly at the thought. She may have stolen that money, but she wouldn't steal art! Right? She shook her head again, trying to free herself of the thoughts.

It didn't matter, the art was lovely. At least until she ran into one that seemed to be little more than a moulding of marble into a lump in the middle of an ordinary room. Was it an imperfection in the construction? No, it had a sign declaring it to be art. Trixie peered at it and the sign both.

The sign declared it to be 'Imperfect', and mentioned that touching was permitted. That was unusual, so Trixie approached the lump and reached out, tapping it. It was marble, the same as the rest of the museum's floor, as if someone had somehow just pulled it up into the lump. "Trixie does not get it..."

"I love this," came the dulcet tones of one Tree Hugger, a smile on her face, eyes half-lidded at best. "It's a statement."

Trixie jumped in surprise, having not notice Tree before then. "Oh, what is it saying?"

"Like, it shows that even the little lumps in life can have meaning, and you shouldn't, you know, get bent out of shape trying to fix them all." Tree Hugger walked up beside Trixie and raised a hoof, setting it down on the lump. "When you try..." She pressed down firmly, and the lump collapsed in the middle, only to expand out the sides, taking up more room than it had to start with. "You only make things more awkward."

Trixie watched as the lump returned to its original shape. "Huh... That is a good message, Trixie supposes." She smiled at Tree Hugger hopefully. "Do you come here often?"

Tree Hugger stood still a moment, looking Trixie over. "Your vibes are... fascinating. It's, like, out of this world... What does the cosmic mare want with me? Are you here to sweep me off my hooves?" She didn't sound especially thrilled, or not thrilled, as if just noting the situation, still smiling in her little way.

Trixie inclined her head at the hippie pony. Could she detect her human-tainted mind? Wait, sweep ponies off their hooves? "I don't swing that way!" she blurted without even thinking about it, operating on an immediate need to assert her cis nature. Her face went red almost immediately thereafter as the thinking part of her brain caught up. Was she straight? Really, how could she even define that? She still had male thoughts jiggling around up there, bouncing off of mare ones.

"Woah, take a chill pill and let those harsh thoughts flow free," bid Tree Hugger as she sat down and crossed her legs in a posture one would not imagine a horse would ever take, but she was a pony, not a horse. "Your chakras are becoming congested. A moment of meditation is what you need."

Trixie considered leaving a hot moment, but Tree Hugger seemed genuine in her desire to help, and though Trixie had tried to forget it, she was still a little lonely. If a pony wanted to spend time with her, what was the harm? She sank to her haunches and slowly pulled up her legs to cross as Tree Hugger had done, which involved more stretching than she had guessed from how easily Tree had done it, but Trixie managed it.

"I'm so happy you're willing to take some time for some self love," sighed out Tree Hugger. "Now, close your eyes." When Trixie had closed her eyes, she nodded. "Breathe in while counting in your head to three heartbeats between inhale and exhale..." She watched placidly as Trixie began the breathing exercise. "Now extend, four heartbeats... When you feel comfortable, keep expanding your mind, go for six."

Trixie tried to be still and aware, to know her heartbeat. As she breathed slowly and focused on it, she started to feel it, her heart thumping away. As she breathed slower and slower, her heart seemed to calm down from its excited dance to a more mellow pattern. The exercise was working. She smiled as she slowed herself to six beats per inhale and six per exhale, calm and mellow, her worries discarded for the moment.

"Your vibes are much better," encouraged Tree. "You should do this once a day to keep your inner humors aligned with your astral presence." That sounded like a lot of new age mumbo jumbo to Trixie, but she didn't interrupt. "I'm glad we met. You needed this realignment." She stood up and nodded gently. "I come here once in a while. It was a cosmic intervention that we were here on the same day. Totally far out, I will not question the workings of fate itself."

Trixie unfolded her legs with a soft sigh. "Trixie feels... relaxed."

"You'll feel that way for a while. If you keep doing it, you can stay relaxed. It's, like, really good for you, inside and out." Tree Hugger reached for Trixie, but didn't touch. Her hoof hovered a few inches away as if she wanted to touch, but just didn't. "Peace be with you, cosmic sister. Perhaps one day you'll share your secrets with me."

Trixie surged up to her hooves. "Wait, before you go!"

Tree paused in her retreat to peer at Trixie in her placid way.

"What do you mean by 'cosmic sister'?" Trixie smiled hopefully at her new... friend?

Tree looked around as if suddenly distracted by the art that surrounded them. "I can feel it, the vibration of another world, echoing through you, and through me, through you. My chakras sing with a foreign power, whispering of a world that is not our own. What things have your eyes seen? What tales hang on the edge of your tongue? I would like to know, but it is not my place to be totally harsh about it. Your journey is your own, and if I can be a little rest stop along it, that's cool enough."

Her placid smile deepened slightly. "Cosmic sister, I wish you the best in your righteous journey."

Trixie felt her cheeks warming. "Trixie is..." She was uncertain is what she was. If she didn't know that she was a literal alien, she would have laughed off Tree's ramblings long ago. As it was, it struck far too close to home. "I... can't see."

Tree's vision seemed to clear, her eyes sharpening. "Are you alright, cosmic sister?"

"No. Trixie is not alright," confessed Trixie. "What she has seen, she forgets! She is becoming something else, something new, and she is scared that her old self will die and no one will even be sad because who cares about some random guy anyway?" Only after she said it, vented her emotions, did she realize what she had said and went rigid.

Tree Hugger inclined her head slowly. "That's a major drag, but... You should look at it from another perspective." She sat and raised her hooves to waggle them in emphasis. "The new you is shaped by the old you. We can't avoid that, even when we try. It's, like, just the way things work, Cosmic sister. Your new you is just as much you as the old you, just older, maybe wiser?" She smiled gently, body relaxing. "I would go with the flow, allowing your energies to mingle in harmony. Let your new self be a synthesis with the best of the old."

Trixie gave a stiff nod, thinking through the words. "I mean.. you're not wrong..." It wasn't that easy to internalize the message. She glanced about at the other ponies, making sure they weren't listening in on their conversation. She leaned in closer to Tree. "I'm forgetting about the other world. If I forget it all, will I still be a cosmic sister?"

Tree spread her hooves, looking like she was offering a hug. She was silent.

Trixie pointed at herself quizzically. Tree nodded. Trixie stepped forward into the offered embrace.

Tree Hugger closed her legs around Trixie gently, patting her, never holding her. She pat with her hooves along Trixie's form as if searching for something. "You are you, Cosmic sister, even if you are not finished growing. Move with righteous peace and abandon the war you wage on yourself. Are you here to stay, Cosmic sister? Will you return to your other world, with new tales to tell your people?"

Trixie smiled awkwardly at the question. Even if she did get home, she could easily imagine her old friends would laugh at her stories. They would call her a liar at best, dismissing her wild claims of having been to Equestria. Her job would... not... No, it would certainly not accept her excuse of absence. That life was... It was gone. But it was still hers.

Trixie emerged from her self-reflection to realize that Tree Hugger had vanished. She could have walked away, but she didn't remember hearing hooves. The marble floor didn't easily allow for stealthy motions, and yet, she was alone. Trixie made an unhappy noise as she turned around, looking for her. She had... enjoyed that strange little conversation, even if she wasn't sure how much of it she could make practical use of.

She began to trot away, feeling a little on edge. The harsh clops of her hooves slowed her back down. She was being rude to the other ponies enjoying the art that surrounded them. To her right, she saw a picture of a well-dressed pony with an apple covering their face entirely. She remembered a human variation of it and snickered softly, amused at how little translation had been required for the painting.

She was a magic pony, in Equestria. That wasn't such a bad fate, right? Besides, she was still herself. She could remember being human, and having dangly bits where mares did not. She nodded with growing confidence. She was a confused wreck, but she was her own confused wreck and none other's.

"Cosmic sister," she quietly said to herself as she ambled towards the next display. Some part of her liked that. Not the cosmic part, not really, but being called a sister. Of course, that was a hippie. Sister and Brother didn't... mean as much with them. It was basically 'Person I see', and little else. Still...

Still... She was a person, and Tree Hugger had seen her. That was strangely comforting.

"Trixie?"

Trixie froze at her name being called by a familiar voice. She turned in place and saw Rarity approaching swiftly. "Trixie Lulamoon, I hardly expected you here of all places."

Trixie's eyes widened a moment. "Rarity! I mean... Trixie is allowed to enjoy some art, is she not?"

Rarity shook her head quickly. "No no no no, of course you are, darling. I didn't mean to imply otherwise. I just... hadn't expected it. This is a most pleasant surprise, though I thought I had left you back in Ponyville..."

Trixie felt her heart racing deep in her chest. "The Great and Powerful Trixie occasionally has sudden engagements. She can't help it when her fans demand her presence."

"Too true, darling," said Rarity with a hoof-wave, seemingly buying the lie entirely. "When business calls, a mare must answer. You know, I never thought of you that way, but I do suppose we are both entrepreneurs of different sorts. Neither of us accept any other pony as being our boss."

Trixie's ears fell. She had a boss. She was not... the real Trixie. "So... what's your favorite piece?"

Rarity turned and pointed down a hallway. "Right this way, darling. I'd love to show it to you. It's simply divine!" Gushing about her favorite art, Rarity began to give a tour that Trixie followed along with.

Author's Note

Amusingly, that last point that jabbed Trixie? I literally didn't realize it until after Rarity said it, and I could feel poor Trixie's heart being prodded. Poor Trixie/human, you can do it! At least Tree Hugger was here to help spellcheck the soul.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

11 - Working Lady

By the end of the day, Trixie had that bit purse. It was a little joy to have a bag designed for the task. It was made of soft and colorful fabric and had little compartments for each denomination of bit to make keeping them organized easy and pulling one out a breeze.

She also learned that all ponies had pockets, including herself. She had started to put the purse away in her cape, but that made her cape sag with obvious weight. The shopkeep took one look at it and she scowled. "No no no! That is just not the way to enjoy that."

The shopkeep marched up to the startled Trixie and pulled the bit purse free before stuffing it into some new place. Trixie shivered at the new sensation. She could feel the bit purse... somehow inside herself, or next to herself? It was hard to peg exactly, but it was gone from sight. Its weight could still be felt, but it seemed lessened. "You didn't get a cape just to have it drag on the ground," assured the shopkeeping mare with a smile.

Trixie reached with her magic, pulling the bag free of that strange space with a giddy little shiver. That felt so strange, but not unpleasant. "Trixie sees..." She tucked it back away carefully, getting a feel for it.

The shopkeep hiked a brow. "Did your parents not teach you how to put things away? Like, that's crazy." She laughed a little. "Never had to teach a pony that before, that's pretty trippy. Enjoy!"

Trixie fought off the blush that threatened her, barely restraining it, she hoped. "She has seen this before, just forgot a moment. How silly of me." She laughed awkwardly as she turned for the door. "Thank you for the purse."

"Totally not a problem," assured the shopkeep, waving Trixie away as she sat on her haunches. "Enjoy!"

Trixie returned home. It had been a long day, but a good one. She crashed onto her bed, still just as soft as the first day she found it and the rest of her fantastically female room. She had only love for it at that moment. As she sank into its embrace, she pulled up the blanket and closed her eyes, ready to pass out right away.

The rest of her vacation passed by speedily. She ate interesting pony variants of human foods, though some of them were unchanged. A plate of spaghetti was only missing meat, but had other delectables and a thick tomato sauce that was quite familiar.

She saw the statue, rearing up so tall, gazing out across the waters with purpose. Trixie did not understand what that purpose was, but she felt something watching it and gazing up at that serene face. She understood why ponies would come to see it. Perhaps she'd look up its history at some point... But that is not what she did that day.

She got a ticket to a show and watched ponies singing merrily, bouncing around the stage in time to dramatic cues. Even the sadder songs were sung with the bottomless energy that ponies had for singing. The power of music could not be denied in the species, and Trixie watched with wonder as they surrendered themselves entirely to the flow of it.

One morning she rose, eager to continue her exploration of the city when she heard a muted thump against her apartment door. She trotted over to it and pulled the door open with her magic. There was no pony there, just a letter taped to the door.

You're up. Go find Don on the casino floor.

Trixie's eyes swept over the short missive before she pulled the note free from her door and crumpled it. With a throwing motion of a hoof, her magic carried it over to the trash and dropped it in. "Score!" she said with a smile before it faded away.

Was her vacation already over? She wondered what the don had in mind for her. There was only one way to find out. She stepped out of her apartment, cleaned and dressed. She rode the elevator to the open floor, stepping out into the sounds of the casino that Don owned. Her eyes flickered from pony to pony, searching for her target.

There he was, barely visible behind the craps table. Trixie hurried over towards the rattle of dice. She heard the electronic bonanza of a slot machine rewarding someone for pulling its lever. Wild cheering and the clatter of bits accompanied the event.

"Tricks," called out a male voice, but it wasn't Don. One of his many thugs was looking at her with a grin. "Don's looking for you. You'll be doing a team job this time, looking forward to working wit' ya."

Trixie stopped her advance to look over the heavy-set pony. He had a scarf over the top of his head, holding his ears back. His tail was cropped short, the fur only going out a few inches from his bottom. She couldn't see his cutie mark, obscured by his pants. That was a shame, they were such a shorthand for knowing what a pony was about. Not that she could complain, really, her own hidden away. "That's Trixie, Great and Powerful, and do you know what we're doing?"

The pony nodded at Trixie. "Rags," he replied, gesturing at himself. "Nice to meetcha. Heard about your first gig, top work. Even laid the blame on somepony else." He snickered softly. "They'll never find you, or even know ya should be found."

Trixie cringed faintly. "What?"

"You don't know?" He hiked a brow at her. "They got a pony dead to Tartarus pegged for being the one who did done it. Poor bastard." Rags pointed to Don. "You should go see the boss, get the briefin' an' all that. We'll talk more."

Trixie nodded a little stiffly. "She will do that. See you later." She turned away from Rags and trotted over to where Don was speaking with his lady friend.

Don waved at Trixie as she approached. "There she is. Ready to earn us all a nice collection of bits?"

The mare leaned against Don possessively, peering at Trixie. "You did good, last time. Let's hope it wasn't beginner's luck."

Don nudged his mare lightly. "Don't jinx her. Now where was I? Oh yeah, you're not working alone this time. We got another family thinkin' they can muscle in on our turf. Ain't having it. You're part of the team that sends them running and relieves them of some bits along the way."

Trixie felt her jaw tensing. A turf war? That was a far cry from her careful heist. "What is it... you want me to do?"

"Work in a team, to start." He rolled a hoof with a mildly bored expression. "I saw you talkin' wit' Rags before, good, he's one of 'em. Now, don't forget, we ain't in this to rough ponies up. Let the other gangs resort to that kinda nonsense. We're here for the bits. Take theirs. They got plenty enough if they think they can come for ours. You--" He thrust that hoof at Trixie. "--make them regret they even looked at this part of the city."

His marefriend smiled at Trixie in a calculating way. "Think of them as your boss for a little while. They'll need your 'special touch'."

Don nodded at her quickly. "Exactly that! Couldn't have said it better, toots."

That reminded Trixie, her ears swiveling towards the marefriend. "Excuse me, but Trixie doesn't think she ever got your name?"

The mare perked up. "I never gave it. I'm Gold Digger." She tapped her snout lightly. "I can smell the stuff. Did you enjoy your little vacation? You smell like you have less bits now than before."

Trixie tried to figure out why that statement feel as vulnerable as it did. Wouldn't any pony be able to guess that she spent some funds during her time off? She tried to shake off that unease. "Nice to meet you, Gold." She offered a hoof towards Gold Digger.

Gold met it with a light tap. "Charmed. Now go get their bits."

Don grinned wide as he laughed. "Yeah, and any gems, bills, or whatever else they got." He pointed to where Rags stood propped up against a table. "He can give more details."

Her hat tipped itself under her magic. "Trixie is on the case." She turned away from them and trotted away purposefully. She wove back around the craps player just as a mare swore colorfully at her sour luck.

"Rags?" she called to him. "Don said you'd have the details. We're up against another crime family?"

Rags waved it off. "Calling these goons a family is being mighty generous. What they is are thugs, lucky ones. They're the violent sort too." He pushed off the table, standing properly. "Come wit' me." He began to lead the way through the casino at an easy pace. The rag kept his ear fairly pinned, so they didn't swivel and move like normal ponies did, making him feel somehow muted in expression. "They already hurt some ponies."

He turned to look Trixie in the eyes. "People on our good side. Hay, one of them we just finished propping up. Lost their job and everythin', we bailed them out, then here comes these jerks, stormin' in like they own the place or somethin'. Poor stallion's leg's broke."

Trixie paled, imagining the violence. "How'd it happen?"

Rags pressed the elevator call button almost angrily. "We got the guy set up with a warehouse all of his own. He watched some of our goods, and anyone else's that paid him. Not a bad job, he liked it, and he was makin' his own bits again. Happy ending, right?" He leaned up against the wall of the elevator shaft, keeping an eye on the closed door. "Then they came in, busted up half the stuff they didn't take. Mighta been a message direct fer us. Whatever the case, we're takin' the cash back, wit' interest, if ya catch my meaning there."

Trixie nodded stiffly. "Did... the pony try to stop them?"

"Oh yeah. He lives in that warehouse." He snorted powerfully. "Came rushing out when the noise started, told 'em to buzz off, and got mangled for it." When the elevator chimed, he pushed up and circled around to get inside. "Now, look, yer new and all, so let me fill you in." He held out a hoof until Trixie was inside, then pressed the ground floor button with the edge of a hoof. "We're not just a family, we're a neighborhood. We care for the ponies that live around here. Hearing one got robbed and hurt like that? We ain't standing for it."

Trixie put a hoof behind her head, rubbing aimlessly. "Well, no, that's just... It's awful. Is the pony alright? I mean... besides the broken leg."

Rags smiled a little. "We got him up in the best hospital around here. He's alright, you know, physically. We got to show him we can protect his interests and get him back to work without fear." As the elevator slid downwards, his eyes went up to the arrow that showed the progress. "We got a little field outpost, ya know? I'll introduce you to the other guys, then we'll get to busting these jerks."

Trixie's ears went up. "Oh, I never asked. Are all of Don's 'guys', you know, guys? Am I the only mare on his... roster?"

Rags waved it away. "Nah. There's one other mare on this job right now, 'nfact. I mean, sure, Don has more stallions than mares for these jobs, but that's just 'cause we're bigger, and we're too proud to cry when things get tough." He stepped forward just a moment before the door slid open, passing through it just in time for it to be wide enough to permit his form through. "Don't you worry none. You're a magic pony, we get that. You won't be crossing hooves wit' nopony."

Author's Note

Back to work, Trixie! Inter-crime crime? Who's the bad guy? Is this a typo?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

12 - Preparing a Counter

They hopped onto the first Taxi that went past and took a short but rapid ride. Rags nodded to Trixie lightly. "This is right on the edge of that neighborhood I was tellin' youz about."

Trixie stepped down from the taxi, nodding in thanks to the stallion that bore them there. She was about to reach with her magic for her bit purse when Rags tossed a coin towards the driver, obviating that need. The driver tipped his hat and dashed off in search of other ponies wanting rides.

Rags pointed to a dull-grey little building of bricks. "This is where we'll be staying 'till we get this settled. Come on, I'll introduce you." He pulled a key out of his 'pocket' as he walked in an act that seemed a display of good balance and agility to Trixie. He had the key in the lock and twisted it and his head at once, being an earth pony.

Manehattan was not a unicorn city, unlike Canterlot. Trixie had seen other unicorns, of course, but earth ponies were the majority. It was a reminder that Ponyville was the odd place, for having all the types in close quarters, but even it had more earth ponies than any other tribe.

Those thoughts fell away as Rags opened the door and reclaimed his key in the same motion. "Head on in." He vanished inside with a spirited trot without hesitation.

Trixie moved up quickly and peeked inside. It looked like it had once been some kind of restaurant, but had long since lost that purpose. Abandoned, but clean, there was still a counter, and what looked like an oven behind it. There were stools arrayed for ponies to sit at the un-used counter. One of those stools held a mare, who was looking at her with a smirk. She waved at Trixie, beckoning her inside. "I don't bite," she assured. "Unless you ask nice like."

Rags slid his key away as he trotted past the mare. "Be nice, this is her first team job."

The mare waved dismissively at him. "All the better she learn how we banter. We're friends here, family really, so expect a few ribs, but they're in good spirit, right?"

Trixie stepped inside, her magic pulling the door closed behind her. She felt around with the same magic until she found the lock on the inside and rotated it closed, wondering how annoying that would be for an earth pony. "Nice to meet you? Trixie is Trixie." Her blush worsened as she mentally parsed what she just said. That sounded silly. "Who are you?"

She tapped her chest. "I'm Long Shot, and I live up to that on a few levels." She swiveled on the stool, the old metal squeaking in the motion. She didn't wear a skirt or pants, looking almost indecently nude compared to many other city-dwellers. On her rump was a big symbol of a slingshot, a pellet mid-flight projected from it as if just fired. "And you're a fancy wizard, right?"

Trixie flinched faintly, eyes darting to Rags, but he had already moved past, and vanished into a hallway leading further into the small building. "Yes, Trixie is Great and Powerful." She gave a strained smile, mentally beratting herself for feeling so awkward about the whole thing. "It's nice to meet you, Long Shot. May I call you Long?"

"Oh, so you can say I. I was starting to think you couldn't, and that woulda got annoying." She rolled a hoof in the air in Trixie's direction. "Long's fine, shorter, and sometimes that's all the time ya got, right?"

"Right." Trixie nodded as she hopped up onto another stool, or tried. She overshot the jump needed and sailed right over the stool, coming right back down in a thump of misplaced limbs and bruised pride.

Long winced in sympathy, even if it looked like she was ready to laugh. "Watch it. We want our backup ready to go. So youz know all kindsa spells?"

Trixie gathered herself up before more calmly climbing up onto a stool. "What she doesn't know, she can figure out." Magic was will, right? So long as she could clearly and precisely envision what she wanted, everything would be fine. "Do you... shoot slingshots a lot?"

Long coiled on herself, drawing a sling from her pocket smoothly. "When I haveta. Now, bear in mind, boss don't like us bein' rough with ponies. These slings ain't for bashin' skulls, even if they can do that." She pointed sharply at nothing in specific. "A good rock can bust an alarm panel, or a window, or lots of things we might want broke for whatever reason. Want a fire escape ladder to come down, I'll get it down, ain't no thing. They call me a unicorn sometimes, the way I make things move without being near them."

Trixie found a smile erupting on her face. It amused her to think anyone would think anyone would count that as enough to qualify Long as a Great and Powerful Unicorn. Still, she managed to not vocalize her mental scoffing. "That's a useful trick," she said instead. "We may need that." If Trixie was busy doing something else, she mentally added. "Do you know what we're doing exactly?"

Hoofsteps drew both of their attentions to the back hallway. Two stallions emerged, one of them Rags. The other was a big bruiser like him, but he wore a larger trench coat over his body and had squinty eyes. He was a dull-cyan color, but he had no visible tail, and his mane was hidden under a large fedora, so coloring those was impossible. "Trixie, right?"

"Right." Trixie nodded at the new stallion, her eyes lingering where a tail should be. It felt downright... alien for one to not be there. It made her think of her human days. Humans didn't have those. How did she already feel so odd at seeing someone without a tail? Ponies weren't humans, of course. They should have a tail.

The stallion approached Trixie at a determined walk. "You can stop staring. Unless yer fallin' at first sight, I'm pretty sure what yer gawkin' at."

Long put out a hoof, partially blocking his passage with it hovering at about face level. "Don't get angry at her. You know everyone has to look a little when they fist meet you. Just how it goes."

He looked over and up at Long, scowling at her. "Don't mean I haveta like it!"

Trixie wrenched her eyes away from the odd anatomy. "Is there a story behind it?"

He scoffed. "None of your damn business!"

Rags suddenly thumped him, driving a hoof into his rump. "Hey! We're a team, a family. Ain't no reason to shout at her. Just tell her so we can move on."

The disciplined stallion sank to his haunches, looking at Rags as if feeling betrayed a moment. "Fine fine, whatever. Lost it in a scrap. Other pony got my tail, I got his ear. I say I won out for the exchange." He pointed a hoof at Trixie. "Boss said yer good. Only did one job, right?"

Trixie was busy wincing, imagining the brawl that resulted in two ponies literally tearing pieces from one another. "That was Trixie's first, but I'm ready for the second. What will we be doing?"

Long jumped over the counter in an easy bounce. The force of it made the stool she once sat on swivel with squeaks a moment. On the other side of the counter, she grabbed something and rose up, slapping it down on the counter. With sweeps of her hooves, she spread it out wide. "We know where those jokers are hiding, and where they keep the goods. We've been watchin' them good, and they ain't subtle."

The new stallion tapped his own chest. "I'm Big--"

Rags nudged him. "Ain't nobody calling you that."

"What?" The stallion frowned. "Whatever. They call me Sudden Stop, but that ain't my name. Don't matter none, call me what you want." Sudden reared up, his forehooves resting on the counter and his eyes sweeping over the paper. "Yeah, we know where they are. We just gotta get what they got, maybe rough 'em up a little..."

Trixie leaned up and over to get a better look. The diagram looked like a sketch of a city block, with entrances and exits plotted for each building, and other lines connecting many of them. She couldn't place the specific meaning of each mark, but it looked detailed. One of the buildings had a big red circle around it. Trixie pointed at it. "Is that them?"

Rags reared up as Sudden had, standing beside him. "That's the one. There's six of them, but they'z thugs, like I tolja. They ain't nothing special, just rely on intimidating ponies who ain't lookin' for trouble. Trick is, we are looking. They get in our way, we won't be scared like that poor pony was. Damn shame, good guy. You'll meet him after this job's done. Pretty sure he'll want to thank the mare that helped get his dignity back."

Trixie smiled a little at that. "I will do my best. He sounds like he was just doing his job." A mental image of a snapping bone brought a shudder to her. She hadn't suffered that awful of an injury before, as a pony or a human. "So, where do they keep their bits?" She leaned in as close as she could, balancing precariously on her stool.

Long tapped at a smaller yellow circle. "I'm pretty sure it's in here." She ran her hoof in a little circle around the indicated room. "They always stop in here after they make trouble, come out without their bags. Gotta be where they stash their goods. We take it, all of it if we can. That's your job, get it. Our job is the other six. That makes two to each of us. We'll keep 'em busy while you do your thing, and maybe teach them a lesson or two, right?"

Sudden clopped a hoof down on the counter in an angry swing. "Right! Damn idjits will regret even glancin' at our turf."

Trixie swiveled an ear towards Sudden, even as the motion made her think of who he fought, who was missing an ear. The idea was ghastly. She loved her cute pony ears. The way they could focus in on sounds had rapidly become part of her life. The idea of... losing that... She shuddered softly, trying to regain her thoughts. "Don doesn't want us hurting ponies, right?"

Rags shook his head. "We don't hurt our marks. We don't hurt ponies just trying to survive. We don't hurt ponies that owe Don bits even, just their stuff." He tapped at the red-outlined building. "These ain't any of those. They hurt an innocent pony, so Don ain't gonna lose no sleep if we leave them with some marks."

Long smiled across the counter at Trixie. "Don't you worry a bit. You ain't gonna be fighting with us, we know that. You just do what you do, and do it good. You focus on here." She moved her hoof in that circle around the room that was but a small portion of the larger building of their target.

Trixie shook her head. "I'm ready, but I will want to see it, and if you're all going to beat them up, why not just take it after that?"

Long wrinkled her nose, but Rags answered first, "Principle. We want it obvious that taking from us is a bad idea. If we do it all by force, they'll just come back with more ponies. If they come back from the scrap with us and see we got through everything they had and made off with their goods, they'll think twice, 'cause we coulda done that even without roughin' them."

Rags fell back to all fours. "I'll show you by the place. Ain't a bad idea to get your eyes on it 'least once before we start."

Author's Note

We meet our team-mates. Nice group, hm? Sudden seems to have some anger issues... Long seems nice enough? Typed on a tablet. Tomorrow, I will be home, to craft typos on my computer once more!

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

13 - Casing the Joint

Trixie and Rags trotted down the sidewalk. While Rags pressed directly forward, Trixie dodged and ducked around the oncoming traffic. The other ponies seemed to avoid Rags without asking, allowing him to progress without ceremony. When there was a lapse in the traffic, she slid over to Rags. "How do you do that?" That was a magic trick she wanted.

Rags lifted his shoulders faintly. "Respect. They know me. Maybe it's better they don't know you, huh?"

Trixie considered that with a frown before nodding. "You have a point. Harder to be sneaky when everyone knows you." On the other hoof, she was the Great and Powerful Trixie, and ponies should already know her!

"But they don't," placidly noted Rags.

Trixie went red instantly. "I said that out loud?" She closed her mouth against further outbursts and rushed ahead. "We're coming up on it, right?"

Rags inclined his head, motioning subtly for a building as they came up on it. It was an abandoned building, taken over for the purpose. It looked like it was some kind of small office, like a travel agency or something before it closed down. Wood covered two of its three large exterior windows. Trixie could see through the last one into the gloomy interior.

Besides matching the map she saw, there were ponies inside. Trixie squeaked faintly and rushed to catch up with Rags, who had stopped.

There was another pony in front of him. Two. Both stallions, they grunted at Rags with unhappy sounds. One of them, the larger one, puffed up, chest thrown out. "Whatcha doin' here?"

Rags shrugged softly. "Walking in my own damn neighborhood, what's it to you, pal?"

"Uh uh." The stallion shook his head as the other started to circle around. "Ain't your neighborhood no more. You just go away and don't come back, capiche?"

Rags glanced off, not at the stallion circling him, and not away from the stallion in front of him, not specifically. He looked to Trixie.

Trixie realized he was asking if she was ready to help him if needed. Trixie froze. That was exactly what they said she wouldn't be doing, but the others weren't there, and they were. "N-now, let's calm down." she suddenly blurted out. "No reason for ponies to be hasty. Walking's not a crime, right?"

The smaller, but still considerable, stallion suddenly lashed out a hoof, knocking Trixie against the building she had been trying to scope out. "Stay outta this, toots. You his mare? We'll show you a good time after we're done."

Rags suddenly leaned forward against his forelegs as his hinds shot out in a lashing that'd do Applejack proud. The smaller stallion yelped in pain as he crumpled backwards, unprepared for the kick. The larger stallion threw a mighty punch, slugging Rags across his face. His balance, already precarious from the kick, was compromised, and he fell with the momentum of the punch.

The fight was on, and Trixie began to breathe hard despite not actually doing much. The fight was going on just in front of her startled eyes. She had to help. She had to run? She had to do something! She had to do anything! Why was she frozen?! A thousand ideas came and left her mind, and she remained locked in place.

The door leading into the target building slammed open as three more stallions poured out, looking ready for a scrap. Rags was already rolling, narrowly avoiding a stomping hoof as he jumped back up to his hooves. He was a fighter, but Trixie didn't like the odds with three more combatants ready to join the struggle.

She screamed. It was a piercing wail, long and unending. All the ponies but Trixie flipped their ears back, trying to ward away the dreadful noise.

One of the new three approached her with a scowl. "Shut yer face." He didn't hesitate, driving a hoof into her shrieking face in a dizzying slam of hoof against cheek. Trixie spun on the way to the ground, her shout dying with the violence. He wasn't done, stepping closer. "Stupid mare. You wit' him? Don't matter." He clopped his forehooves together, looking ready to teach Trixie a lesson or two.

Rags' odds were busy decreasing with three ponies on him, and the fourth recovering from his kick. He ducked under a swung hoof, just to catch the next in his ribs. He lashed out a hind leg, but only clipped a shoulder.

"Let's show 'em who's turf this is," taunted one of the fresher fighters, suddenly charging in, barreling into Rags in a full-body tackle. The effort sent them both to the ground, but one of them had backup still standing, and the other had Trixie.

Speaking of her, she scrambled away from the angry stallion, narrowly avoiding a hoof to her belly. "N-now let's calm down!"

"Nope." He moved with her, easily keeping up with her awkward scramble. "Gonna add some black to go with your blue." He drove a hoof down, compensating for her awkward retreat. Pain exploded as he landed a solid punch/kick (which was it when the enemy had hooves?) in Trixie's chest, knocking the air free of her. "Ain't nobody 'llowed to shout in mah ear."

Rags snarled at the mare-beating stallion, but couldn't do much for Trixie, wrestling with the pony that had crashed with him. Hooves rained down in in a violent storm, but he managed to avoid getting his head stomped. With a sharp pull, he drew his brawling partner into the path of an oncoming hoof, forcing them to stomp their own teammate. Satisfaction was fleeting as the blows kept coming. He was losing, badly.

Trixie's eyes filled with tears. She could teleport! The idea suddenly jumped into her head. She could leave it all behind and get out of there! But would she actually end up where she wanted to be? Even when she was calm, it took concentration and effort to land in the right place. There was also Rags. She'd be entirely abandoning him. She could teleport in a tizzy, show she was a coward, and leave Rags to be beaten, possibly until he was maimed or worse.

Snot running down her face, she curled a little on herself. "I'm sorry..."

"Yeah?" The stallion leered down at her. "There are ways to prove that."

A yelp drew both of their eyes. One of Rags' assailants was stepping back, a hoof to his head. There was blood escaping around where his hoof pressed. What had happened?

With a quiet noise of something sailing through the air, a rock slammed into the pony menacing trixie, catching him in the chest. He was less startled than the first one. "Bloody hell, they're throwin' rocks!" He turned away from Trixie, forgetting her instantly. "Get 'em!"

The momentary reprieve was enough for Rags to scramble to his hooves, eyeing his combatants warily. Two of them had fled, looking for the rock-equipped sniper. "I like these numbers better."

Trixie squirmed away even as she got her hooves under herself. She was standing! She was running! No, wait, that was the wrong way. Instead of fleeing the scene, she was rushing for Rags. She jumped at him, wrapping her hooves around him tightly even as he backed up a step.

The three remaining stallions laughed at the display. The one that had roughed up Trixie stepped forward with a smirk, closing the distance. "So she is yours. Look at her, ready to be saved by her shining knight or whatevers."

With a great rush of magic, she pulled both of them away from it all. Magic exploded in a shower of sparkles and a few licking flames on the ground where they had been standing, leaving the ponies with nothing to fight.

It hurt. They were traveling through sandpaper. It was one of her least skilled jumps. It was a relief when they escaped that terrible place, spilled out onto the sidewalk, but what sidewalk? Trixie could smell something cooking. No, wait, that was her. She fell from Rags, the impact putting out the spot of fire that was merrily caught on her cape.

Rags wobbled in place, blackened with the char of the terrible teleport. "The... hades was that?" He shook his head, sending bits of ash and dust flying. "Nevermind, uh, thanks. Long is probably already bookin' it." He looked left and right in quick sweeps. "And... we're on the other side of town. Where were you aimin'?"

"Away," weakly murmured Trixie from the ground. "Just... away..."

Rags clenched his teeth a moment before reaching out a hoof. Trixie winced, but he didn't hurt her. He gently ran the hoof over her cheek. "That your first fight?"

"Yeah," she weakly admitted, not moving. "I was... kinda bad, huh?"

Rags nudged her shoulder with the same hoof. "Can you sit up?" As she rolled up, he patted her down. "Don't think you broke nothin'. All we got is bruises. Coulda been worse. So, uh, thanks, right?"

Trixie smiled a little despite her mental and physical discomfort. "Why are you thanking Trixie?"

Rags booped her on the nose, pressing his hoof against it briefly. "Because she saved our rumps, even if I coulda maybe turned that around. That wasn't the plan anyway. We weren't supposed to get in a huge brawl until you were already takin' all their stuff, remember?" He glanced around, seeing very few ponies about. "This ain't a good spot of town. Let's get outta here."

Trixie started to follow him, even if her stepping was awkward and stiff. She could feel the ache of where she had been hit, her face stung and her chest was bruised. When she breathed too deep, it hurt in a different way, but normal breathing was alright, so she assumed she hadn't busted anything too badly. She shuddered as she followed Rags, thinking of the stallion that had been attacking her.

Of all the ponies, she decided he was the lowest. He punched a mare for the 'high crime' of screaming, and was... He was using abuse to get what he wanted. Trixie drove a hoof onto the sidewalk in a sudden fit of anger. She had, as a man, laughed at the idea of 'the freeze'. What kinda person would just stand there and let themselves be abused?

And then... she did it. It all happened so fast. Her shock was giving way to an increasing amount of anger. Part of her wanted to teleport back to that stallion and magic him in new and interesting ways. Rage boiled with every step. Rage and... shame. She had almost cost Rags so much. "Are you alright?" she asked with a timid smile. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Rags waved it away, continuing his steady walk. "Everyone freezes up their first real fight. Everyone. Anyone tell you otherwise, they're a damn liar." He glanced in her direction. "Once you realize, shoot, this is real. Ponies are getting hurt. I might get hurt... That ain't easy to face, especially not the first time."

"Did... you freeze?" Trixie hurried up to be at his side. The idea of even someone as big and tough looking as Rags freezing up like a deer in headlights was comforting. "How did you stop?"

"When they kicked her." One of his ears twitched as if it wanted to turn, but his bandanna kept it pinned. "My trainer, good mare. They had her pinned, that's when I started movin' again. Whooped 'em good after that."

Trixie smiled a little. "I can imagine that... I guess it was the same for me. I had to... I couldn't just run away without you."

Suddenly, Rags threw a leg over Trixie and pulled her closer. "Thanks. I didn't think of you like a, you know, student or nothin'... but yeah, thanks. That really means somethin'." He let her go. "Just, next time? Maybe practice that jumping thing you did. That was almost as bad as the fight."

Trixie laughed nervously, a hoof behind her head. "I'm still practicing it. It's a lot smoother when I'm alone and not freaking out, promise."

Author's Note

Yay action scenes! How'd I do? Were there any plotholes lurking beneath the typos?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

14 - Once More, With Feeling

Their group gathered back in their field headquarters. Long had rushed at them with concern shining in her eyes. At first, Trixie thought the mare was coming for her, but she went for Rags quite pointely. "You poor thing! Caught in a scrap with a mare that don't know how to hold her own." Her hooves explored him, making him wince as she found the tender spots. "You too rough to continue, and what's with all the soot?"

The ash and grit had flaked away on the walk back, by and large, but there was enough for her to notice, a dusting instead of a complete covering. Rags waved her away with a snort. "So long as you stop proddin' me like that. Trixie got us both away, we're fine." He looked over to Trixie. "How about you? You can do your part?"

Trixie gave a slightly shaking nod. "I will do my best. When are we supposed to start?" Sure, she hurt and ached, but getting revenge on that stallion was enough inspiration to make her want to go ahead if that was an option.

Sudden scowled silently through the exchange, but broke that with a grunt. "I appreciate ya bein' ready for some payback, but go lay down, damn mare. You look awful."

Long finally looked at Trixie fully and her ears flipped back. "Oh... he's onta something there. How are you walking?"

Trixie stepped back defensively. "I'm not that hurt!" Somehow, their accusing looks seemed to draw out the pain. Though she had resisted it with the stubbornness of a male taught that showing pain was a sign of weakness, it seemed to be dissolving. It did hurt. Her legs began to quake, ready to give out. Every breath started to become labored. She was falling apart, and she hated it. "Trixie can... handle it..."

Rags slapped her on the side as he walked past her. "Say what you want. I am going to sleep, so we ain't movin' until after that."

Trixie smiled awkwardly. "Well, if you're napping, I may as well..."

They proceeded into the back where some mattresses were on the floor with no box spring in sight. It hardly mattered. They both collapsed onto the softness provided.

Trixie faded from the world quickly, her body eager to begin its repairs in earnest. She opened her eyes in an instant, but she wasn't laying on a mattress. She was sitting on her haunches on a stool. A human sat on the next stool over.

They were at a bar, but no one else was around. The silence was unnerving. A drink slid in out of nowhere along the bar and the human caught it. He looked... familiar, but Trixie could not place him exactly.

Trixie tilted her head at the person. "Hello?"

"You shouldn't talk to yourself, you'll look weird." The human tipped his glass as if offering a toast, then drank deeply, draining the fluid away.

Trixie's ears perked up. Was that... her past self? She reared back. She started to remember it, but like a distant fact. She couldn't feel that face belonging to her, or that body, or anything else about it.

It had happened. She had died and become something different.

He reached for her and brushed away the lone tear that had escaped her. "Every day is a little death. Make the most of what you are." He stood up from the stool. "No reason to worry about me when the place is on fire."

Fire? Trixie blinked, and it was. The entire bar was ablaze with all the logic of dreams, burning brightly all around her.

She woke with a gasp, bolting upright. There was no fire, but there were other sounds. Ponies were shouting. Ponies were fighting. She heard a pony crash into something and it broke with wood and metal snapping.

Rags rolled upright. "They found us. The plan continues. Go take their stuff. If they're raiding, that means most of them are here. It won't get better." He stormed out with a loud shout, announcing his presence.

Trixie watched him go even as she climbed to her hooves. That sleep hadn't been as long as she would have liked, but the worst of it had passed, besides, there was no time to worry about that. She had things to steal.

Concentrating on where she wanted to be, she vanished in a fit of sparkles. Going alone and in less of a panic, she sailed through the distance between Here and There with far less friction. With a flash, she appeared inside the dark interior of the enemy's headquarters.

Running almost on autopilot, she was already warding light around her, fading from sight even as a surprised noise sounded from around the corner. A pony rushed out from the back, looking around suspiciously, but he saw nothing, and grunted. "Huh..."

Trixie smiled, watching him look around a little before he wandered back where he had come from. "Those guys better get back soon. Hate guard duty..."

Trixie walked as quietly as she could. Moving while invisible was stressful, but she dared not abandon her stealth with that stallion present. Still, at least he wasn't watching the door she cared about. With soft hoofsteps, she reached it and bid the doorknob open, only to find that it was securely locked with the faint rattle of an unresponsive jiggle.

She didn't know how to pick a lock, nor was she comfortable teleporting past the door into the unknown space beyond it. Could she teleport into something? How deadly would that be? She decided to not experiment with that.

She reached into the lock with her magic. She had no sense of fine sensation, just a general feeling of a lock pressing from all sides. She pushed further and further, seeping through it as she wriggled her hoof left and right as if turning the knob with it. Her magic rotated in sympathy, jiggling, rattling, catching! She caught something in there and gave it a pull. The door fell open a precious inch, her magic glowing around the latch she had managed to find and pull back.

She hadn't unlocked it at all, just cheated and depressed the latch directly. She felt pride in her jury-rigged lockpick. Side benefit, she quickly decided; there would be little evidence of her presence. She reached forward and pulled the door open wide enough to slip inside and pull it shut behind herself, locking her inside.

Finally, she could release the invisibility, sighing out with relief as that pressure began to abate. The small room was filled with their ill-gotten goods. Stacks of bits, weapons, things that looked like heirlooms, gemstones, and a riot of other things that left Trixie staggering in the scope of it all.

How was she supposed to get it all out?!

Stepping through the collection carefully, Trixie inspected the room. Some of it was collected in an old tub hidden in the back, and she smiled. "Of course." She began plucking the most valuable-looking things, grabbing them in her magic and tossing them into the tub. "You're large for a loot bag, but you'll do."

She made it rain bits, half-filling the tub with the pure currency. She scattered diamonds on top, carefully arranged some of the more interesting looking knick-knacks, even if she wasn't sure what their street value was. For completion sake, she nabbed one of the swords they had. Why did they even have swords, she couldn't say, but she nabbed one anyway, adding it to the pile.

With a tub full of booty, she hopped onto the pile and thrust forward a hoof. "Onwards, my valiant steed!"

She had no idea if it would work, but, hey, Trixie had made a teapot into a poodle... She wrapped her magic around it, imagining a tall and majestic loot horse.

It began to reform and shift beneath her, not changing in any sudden poof. Was it too large for that?

The tub closed around the top as she wanted, her riding on top of the closed ceramic. Its legs grew beneath it, but no head formed. It didn't move. Trixie nudged it with her hind legs, mounted on it as she was. "You awake?" It did not respond.

Trixie sighed. It hadn't been critically important for it to be alive, but she had wanted to do it. Oh well, more practice needed, or maybe less grandiose displays of magic. She had one solid object, and that was more important. She hugged the closed tub, filled with vast amounts of wealth. She thought of a safe place, willing herself and her cargo to go to it, away from the bad ponies.

She vanished into the Between place. The space around her screamed in complaint. She was not skilled by far to take so much with her. It wasn't just sandpaper, it was crushing her, resisting the movement of so much material.

Worse, it was slowing her, trying to stop her. What would happen if she was actually stopped in that place? She dared not consider it, trying instead to force herself forward with her will and her fiercely glowing horn. It was her against that entire Between universe.

The screaming only got louder. She was breaking something. Perhaps herself? The old pains had returned with vengeance, but she didn't stop pushing, she just couldn't. If she was stopped, she might never emerge, or so she feared.

She heard a loud crack. The tub beneath her had split, a spiderweb of cracks showing along its surface. A cough shook her, blood specking out across her front. She was breaking! This had all been a terrible idea! There was no going back, only forwards!

A rush of cool air struck her as she emerged from that terrible place. Wood shattered, ponies were screaming.

They hadn't expected a pony to appear, riding a cracked tub just over their roulette table. It had crashed down right through it and its contents spilled out in a wave of wealth, leaving a passed out Trixie sprawled out in the middle of it, ignorant to the shouts and motion around her.

Back in the field headquarters, Rags hurled the last pony clear of the building to land in the pile of their fellows. "Ain't so tough in a more even fight, eh? Get lost."

Long was seated on her haunches, holding a slingshot with one hoof, the other drawing it back, a rock loaded. How an earth pony did that remained her particular talent. "Unless you need further education. This ain't your turf."

Sudden clopped his hooves, wiping them clear of imagined dirt. "We're ready to keep dancin' if you are, buckos."

The thugs scrambled, pushing and shoving one another in their hurry to flee. The more injured of them hobbled away, but Don's ponies did not pursue them.

Long let her slingshot go limp, laughing with a grin. "Now that was more like it. Hey, Trixie, you can come out now." She turned towards the back. "We didn't need it, but you could have tried lending a hoof this time."

Rags waved a hoof at Long. "She aint here. I sent her to grab their stuff."

Sudden nodded softly. "Well, if she did that, all's even. Are you sure she's any good?"

Rags flicked off a bit of ash that clung to him. "She magiced me across the damn city, I'd say she is. Besides, she ain't all bad. Not a damn clue how this stuff works, but she's a good mare."

Sudden smirked suddenly. "Ya getting warm for her?"

Rags turned away to conceal a faint blush. "No! She's just made of good stuff. She coulda run last time, but she didn't. She stuck by her partner, and that's worth something."

Long suddenly threw an arm over Rag's withers, pulling him closer. "Hey hey hey, no reason to be embarrassed. I bet she thinks you're cool too." She winked softly. "If you offered to teach her how to fight proper, it'll give you an excuse to hang out with her."

Sudden waved at the empty sleeping room. "Before you start worryin' about that too hard, where is she?"

Author's Note

Well, that... worked?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

15 - Give Until it Hurts

There was beeping, gentle beeping. It was slow and steady, but it was also hastening, just slightly. Trixie perked an ear at it, and it hurt. She didn't understand why the side of her head started to hurt like that.

She opened her eyes, but it was dark. She had something on her face. Had she put on a mask to sleep? Had someone else? She reached up for it and her hand slid right off of it. What? She grasped for it again but her fingers refused to get a good grip on the thing on her face. Was it stuck?!

The beeping was getting faster, but Trixie was paying it no mind. Why was this mask stuck to her face? Why couldn't she get it off? A pained cry escaped her as a blind panic started to settle on her. It wasn't very logical, but her emotions at that moment didn't ask anyone's permission. She was trapped by the mask, and her fingers were broken, all of them. She couldn't curl them around the bands she felt.

Her hands weren't working and the pain whenever she tried to make them work was just getting worse. The beeping was sounding a little erratic, like her breath. She tried to writhe, but that only brought new pain across her body. Was every bone broken? She was in no state to check as panic deepened. "Help!" she suddenly cried. "For the love of every god, someone, anyone, help!" She flailed at the side of her head, half-punching herself in her manic and desperate need to get the mask off. "Someone..."

She heard a door open and hoofsteps approach rapidly. A female voice spoke, "Please, calm down."

"How can I be calm?!" demanded Trixie. "My fingers are broken!"

There was a moment of quiet. "What fingers?"

Trixie's mouth hung open, ready to shout and scream about her fingers when it started to click. She was a pony. Ponies had no fingers. She had a magic horn. She willed the mask off with an inarticulate wail and it flew across the room, flung free of her face in the grasp of her desperate magic.

She could see a small hospital room. She was on a basic flat bed, a thin blanket falling free of her from all of her struggling.

"Poor thing." The kindly nurse pony reached over and gently brushed away a few tears from Trixie's face. "Are you feeling any better?"

The beeping was starting to even out. Trixie took a shuddering breath, trying to regather herself. "No... sleeping masks, please..." She looked the nurse over, taking note of her beige fur and the cross the decorated her rump. Cute, she decided. "Why does everything hurt?"

The nurse pulled the blanket back into place in her teeth and her hooves gently smoothed it out. "You've taken a nasty spill. Fortunately, you made it. I'm no expert in unicorn magic, but I would say you bit off more than you can chew, ya know?" She circled around Trixie, tucking the blanket as she went. "You'll get better, but you need your rest."

Unicorn magic? Trixie swam backwards through the fog of her mind, trying to remember what got her in that spot. Loot horse... "Did... Don get my gift?"

The nurse smiled brightly. "Oh, he was one of the ponies that brought you here. He said to be sure you were given the best care. He must like you." She patted Trixie's swaddled chest gently. "One of the reasons we had a sleeping mask on you, to help you get your rest." She was inspecting a drip feed that was attached to Trixie. "Now, you're in no shape for solid foods right now. I'm honestly surprised you're up for a chat, but if it doesn't hurt--"

"--Everything hurts," interrupted Trixie. "Please don't go." Speaking was a pain, but when everything was a pain, she decided it was worth speaking. She didn't want to be alone. She could remember an overwhelming sense of solitude, as if she could have been forced into solitary for all eternity. She had avoided it... She wanted someone there.

The nurse was quiet a moment, her attention sliding to the machine that made all the beeps. "If any of your friends stop by, I'll be sure to let them in, provided they can be gentle. You're still in a very delicate situation..." She smiled thinly at Trixie. "As much as I would like to say I'll stay, you're one patient of many. They all want me at their side... I'm sorry." She suddenly approached and planted a kiss on Trixie's forehead so light she couldn't even be sure it happened. "Rest."

Trixie watched it happen, unable to do much to prevent it. She was alone. She could hear the beeps, gently noting that she was alive.

Sleep came for her.

"There she is!" Trixie woke with a start to see Don and Gold entering the room. How long had she been out, which of them had spoken? She wasn't sure of either, but it didn't hurt as much. She raised a wavering hoof at them.

Don took hold of that hoof only to set it right back on the bed. "Nothin' doing. No moving out of you until the docs say you're clear. You made quite the mess."

Gold Digger burst into a musical titter. "Surprised the whole floor with that, showering them with money and a body all at once like that."

"Hell of an entrance," agreed Don. "Don't do it again. Them tables ain't free, even if you made up for it. I gotta give some of that loot back to the ponies it got lifted from, patch things up with them, ya know? They get robbed by a thug, they sometimes get confused, think it was my ponies." He snorted with irritation. "As if I'd let that happen... Anywho, ya did great! Got the update from the rest of your team. Kicked them right in the tail and left them robbed, just like we planned, eh?"

Trixie quirked a smile, it was the best she could do without her face reminding her that it too could feel pain. "Did you get their leader?" She could remember him, looming over her with palpable menace. "He..." She trailed off. Admitting she had been scared, or what of, was too much. "Did you?"

"Mmm?" Don raised a brow.

Gold shrugged. "We weren't there, remember? We just heard the good news, they were sent packing." She leaned on the bed suddenly, making it tip a bit and Trixie could feel things settling with little jolts of renewed pain. "They had their boss wit' em?"

Don casually nudged Gold off the bed, though that made it move again. "They didn't mention that none."

Was that pony their boss? Trixie couldn't be certain. "Nevermind. I got their things."

"That you did," easily agreed Don. "Yer gettin' way better at this; worth every bit." He turned to Gold. "Hey, go get us some drinks." Gold arched a brow at him in silent question. "I saw a vendin' machine on the way in, toots, go." He shooed her from the room.

As soon as she was gone, he turned back to Trixie. "Hey, sorry ya got roughed up somethin' fierce. Ain't ever fun when one of my people gets bashed." He walked to her side of the bed, a look of concern on his face. "The way I heard it, you were rolled twice, but the first time didn't keep you down. Thanks fer not crying about it."

Trixie could suddenly feel the tears that still clung messily to her face from when she had panicked. "I wanted to get the job done," she rushed out, trying to sound professional.

"And you did, so I'm thankin' ya." He patted her chest once. "Once you're back at a hundred, we'll get you back on a job more your speed, with less goons involved." Trixie must have made quite a face, since his expression shifted almost immediately. "Hey, don't worry 'bout it. For now, rest. I won't toss you back right away." He turned for the door an instant before it opened.

Gold Digger hurried in with a tray balanced on her back, three cans on it. "I don't know what yer mare likes, so I got her some cola. She alright with that?"

Cola sounded... really good just then. Trixie smiled.

That was cue enough for Gold, who trotted up and slid the tray off herself. She kissed the top of the can and using her teeth or tongue, she had it open with a pop. She dropped a straw in it, also having been in her mouth, and slid it over to Trixie.

Trixie could cry again. The soda was so close, but she wasn't ready to sit up and enjoy it. She could feel its coolness radiating from beside her face, maddeningly close, but it might as well been in Ponyville for how accessible it was.

Gold noticed her mistake and plucked up the can. "Ah right." She went over to her drip and casually poured the can into the saline bag.

Trixie was... certain that was not how saline bags worked. Was she going to die? She could see the darkened fluid of the soda/saline mix flow down and crash into her. A wave of refreshing fizziness poured through her veins. Cartoon logic, was she going to argue it? No. No, she was going to enjoy the fact that she was drinking soda by an IV drip when it should have been killing her. "Thank you."

Gold lifted a can that was stuck to the end of a hoof. "Hey, no problem. If I ever get busted up, you owe me one, eh?"

The two eventually wandered off to take care of other criminal needs. It was like needing to go to the bathroom, but with more laws broken along the way. Trixie closed her eyes, though she could still see the bright lights of the hospital shining in through her lids. Oh, if only she had a sleeping mask... "No," she said to herself, leaving the mask where it had been thrown to the ground.

Recovery came for her. She had no grasp of the time, with no calendar, or even a window to the outside world. She slept, then ate, and healed. It was with great joy that she was allowed to slip carefully from the bed, half-falling to all fours. All of her legs complained about being told to get back to work, but with her weight spread across them evenly, it wasn't so bad.

She began wandering the hospital, her IV bag rolling along with her. It would have been a pain to push it, or let it tug at her with its injection point. Fortunately, she had magic, and she kept an arcane grip on it, pulling it along as she explored. Seeing the sun was a wonderful thing. They didn't let her out the front, but the roof had a little park built into it, and she sank to her haunches in the grass there, gazing up at the blue sky and the clouds that dotted it.

A sudden intense urge to flee swept over her. She could blink away, go home to her big comfy bed in her big comfy apartment. Maybe she'd order one of those vegetarian deluxe pizzas and watch some television. A dopey smile spread on her face, but she didn't vanish. As tempting as it was, she decided against it. She was still injured and hurting. The ponies there were tending to her, and she would be a good pony for them.

Instead, she could put on a little show for the other patients. Surely they could use a Great and Powerful distraction from their own aches and pains. She turned to see a few other patients sitting there, looking bored. Yes, at least she could do something... "I hope you are all prepared."

Author's Note

A moment of intense body horror. I could really imagine that being a real freak out moment.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

16 - Wholly Unique

The aches faded with each passing day. She was gaining something of a reputation around the hospital. As her mobility returned, her acts became more flamboyant. It wasn't because she was trying to show off, not exactly... Performing just felt a lot better than lazing around. The hospital had a critical lack of Internet access, so performing tricks for ponies won out as far as the entertainment options went.

It helped that she liked seeing how her magic could flow and bend. She wove colorful illusions and flashy effects as she told her outlandish tales of a pony stuck in a strange world of hairless apes. She was making that one up, but the ponies dug the detail she could go into about their absurd society.

It was once her society, and there she was, poking fun at it. Of course, she remembered making fun of it even when she was in it, so maybe things didn't change that much.

When first she wanted to teleport, terror seized her. What if she got stuck? What if she got hurt?

But she shook it off, staring her fears head on. "I know," she said, looking into a mirror. "That I have every reason to be concerned, but I did not come here to this place to be scared to use magic. I am a magic pony. That was the deal." She thrust a hoof at her reflection. "And magic ponies teleport, end of discussion."

Though her little speech had solidified her opinion, it hadn't really put down her fear. So she teleported anyway, heart racing and ready for failure. She made it a tiny hop, from one spot to another within the same room, appearing with her hair standing up and her breath uneven. But she had made it, and wasn't hurt. "S-see... not... so bad. Just don't carry entire tubs with you."

It was with great joy that she willed a quill to sign the paperwork when that time came. She was being discharged, healthy and ready to tackle the world. "Tell the other patients that I'll see them on the outside, so they had best get better soon."

With a giddy eagerness, she trot out through the frontdoors of the hospital into the brilliant light of day. Her moment of savoring was interrupted as a pony smashed into her on the way past. "Hey, I'm trottin' here!" the pony barked, moving on without really looking at Trixie.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Welcome to Manehattan." She merged with the flow of traffic, eager to make her way home. "I can't wait--"

"--Neither can I," cut in a voice that sounded far too familiar. Emerging from the crowd came Trixie, the original, a knowing smirk on her face. "We have business, but even one such as I, the Great and Powerful Trixie know better than to tackle a pony in the hospital. Now that you are free of that drab place, here." With a disdainful mental flick, she sent a card bouncing off not-Trixie's chest. "Be there."

Not-trixie felt ice cold everywhere. Never had she felt more alien in her body. Never had she felt more divorced from what she was. "I-I... What?"

Trixie tilted her head faintly, "Do you not understand?" She took a step closer. "The one and only has come," she sang smoothly, the crowd avoiding her without being prompted. "And there can be only one." She raised a hoof with gravity. "And at last--" She directed the hoof at herself. "--I am here."

The music faded, leaving not-Trixie all the more baffled. "Was... that the entire song?"

Trixie scowled. "All that some copycat deserves. Take the card and be there if you know what's good for you. We'll prove to the world who is the true Trixie, and then I will go home, triumphant." She turned in place, tail flicking disdainfully as she trot off, melding with the crowd.

Not-Tirixie felt music trying to escape from her. Even as she willed the card off the ground, they spilled from her unwilling lips. "How can I even breathe, standing in the wreckage..." With timing a bit too on the nose, the sky grew dark, and disgorged soft rain onto the city. The other ponies scattered for cover, but Not-Trixie took slow steps. "The rain, a lullaby and so I close my eyes..." She did close her eyes, still trotting.

"Hey, watchit!"

Not-Trixie snapped out of her reverie, eyes snapping open to realize she had managed to wander into the street just enough to get in the way of a taxi pony. With a nervous smile, she backed up out of the way. "You available?"

"You wanna ride? Hop on. Where to?" He gestured with a toss of his head towards his available and dry cart, a canopy already drawn to keep the rain at bay.

Not-Trixie bounded up onto the dry seat and pointed the way. "Home, thank you."

"Ain't no thing." And off he went, easily navigating the streets to get Not-Trixie to her home, where her mob boss and her mob friends also lived.

She stepped free, tossing a five bit coin at the stallion as she went. "Thanks." And off he went. "And here I am..." She, Not-Trixie. The name felt... clammy... How could she call herself Trixie when the original was there, ready to fight for the right to it. What right did she, not-Trixie, have to even participating in that fight?

She took slow steps up the stairs, the song magic tickling at her throat. "I'm powerless, I'm meaningless, like every scar..." She raised a hoof as she walked, trailing it along one of the fine marks she had gained from her reckless retreat through whatever astral nightmare she had plunged into.

"But as I cry, tears fill inside, right through my heart..." She passed into the building proper, other ponies simply shying away from her, letting her sing her sad little song without issue. "Through it all, I can hear... someone whispering 'come near'." That was when Not-Trixie stopped. Of course she had to face the real Trixie. She had demanded it, and it was her right to do so.

Maybe she'd even have answers? Not-Trixie's nose scrunched even as she tapped repeatedly at the elevator call button. "Not likely." The music was gone, the magic faded. When she entered the small elevator, others nodded towards her going the other way.

"Good to see yer back," grunted one of her fellow goons, but he kept right on walking, having someplace to be.

Her eyes darted between the buttons. Did she go home, or check in... She pressed a button and was soon exiting into the loud commotion of the casino and headquarters of Don Keyworks.

"Come to rain more treasure on us?" asked Long, seated at a patched up roulette table. "What an entrance! I'm only sorry I wasn't there to see it. You feelin' alright?"

Not-Trixie smiled gently at Long Shot. "I did my part, and I hear you did yours. How did that go?"

She hopped down from her stool, coming face to face with Trixie. "We mopped the floor with 'em and sent 'em runnin' out of there so fast they could barely walk straight. It was perfect." She set a hoof on Not-Trixie's shoulder. "You look kinda off. You sure you're alright?"

Don stepped into view, Gold at his side. "Trixie! My fine magical mare, good to have you back." He approached at a steady walk, waving one hoof to gather attention. "It's only been two jobs, but it feels like forever. Let there be no doubt that you're one of us. Am I right or what pals?"

The room exploded into cheers of agreement, hooves pumping or stomping the ground, vibrating the floor.

Not-Trixie smiled awkwardly, waving at her sudden new fans. "Ah, yes, about... that." She leaned in towards Don and lowered her voice to a whisper, even if that still sounded too loud to her ears. "The real Trixie showed up."

Don's expression turned instantly into a scowl. "You want I should... take care of her?" He sat and clopped two hooves together with deadly intent. "We can make sure she don't bother you no more."

Images of the various ways that could turn out played through not-Trixie's mind, each one making her wince anew, squirming in front of the Don. "N-no! No... I'll just go meet her, as she said. I don't think she intends anything violent, so let's not resort to that." She flashed a little smile. "That's not... our way, right?"

Don slapped her shoulder firmly. "Exactly right! Here you are, fresh to the family, reminding me that we don't gallop that way. Someone get this mare a drink." He rose up to his hooves. "You're on vacation. You got a week to yourself. If you need anything, you lemme know, capiche?"

Gold slid in against him, leaning towards Trixie. "Before you trot off, Trixie, there is a matter of payment."

"I'm losing my head today," laughed Don good-naturedly. "Of course. You did good, you get paid. That's how that works." He reared up just long enough to clap his hooves. "Get her cut!"

A familiar pegasus flew in, dropping a sack on the way past and going right out an open window, lost to sight moments later.

Not-Trixie frowned. The name of that pegasus was at the tip of her tongue, but that thought faded when Don kicked the bag open just enough to reveal the glitter of a pile of bits inside. She willed the bag to raise, but it did so slowly with its considerable weight. How many bits was that?! "Thank you."

"Ain't nothin'. You did the work, you get paid. Just, you know, don't trash my stuff next time." He gestured at the roulette table with its metal band-aids. "Lucky fer you, we were able to patch her back together, even named her after you. That's the Trix-Spin table now."

Long slapped Not-Trixie on the back. "And she's my lucky table, just as lucky as the mare that made it."

"Trixie?" It was Rags, pushing through the crowd. "Good to see you!"

Don turned away. "Enjoy yer vacation, earned it." He trotted away, the crowd parting for him instantly save for Gold at his side.

Not-Trixie tried to say something to him, but Rags caught her first, crushing her in a sudden embrace that reminded her body that it could still hurt if it wanted. "Don't do that again," he roared, releasing her just as quickly. "When we heard--"

"--He started crying like a foal," snidely finished Long with a wicked smirk. "He figured you'd gone and kicked the bucket."

Rags shot a withering look at Long that failed to make much of an impression on her. "I was worried, who wouldn't be? Bleeding and knocked out on a pile of riches? If you wanted to make an impression, you made one! Now don't ever do that again."

Not-Trixie reached up and gently booped his nose with the flat of a hoof. "It will take more than that to take care of... the..." She trailed off. Finishing the statement felt awkward. "Me," she lamely added to conclude things. "I'm back, and in one piece."

Rags patted Not-Trixie down shamelessly, hooves wandering over her sides. "Mostly one piece. You have some scratches that ain't coming clean. 'Least they're small, and your cape hides most of 'em."

She was unsure if she should be scandalized or not. He was a stallion, and they weren't that close of friends, but she was fairly sure he was in a good place, desperately trying to make sure she was alright, not cop an easy feel. "They'll just add to my mysterious appeal." She waved it off. "Now... I'm going to enjoy my time off before I'm sent off to do... something else crazy."

Of course, she already knew one thing she'd have to do.

She had a very real and likely both Great and Powerful Trixie to face off against.

Author's Note

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

18 - Chance Encounter

Not Trixie sat on a bench, out of the way, ponies moving past her on their way towards things. They all had things to do and places to be, unlike her. She tapped her hooves together faintly, barely touching. She could dimly remember having fingers. They'd be interwoven right about then, holding and squeezing as if giving herself a little tiny hug.

She could use a little hug. Such a luxury was not coming. Did she deserve that? She was not Trixie... She could remember that much. She was not Trixie, then she was Trixie. She had a job before this job. It was not a fun one. She had friends, on the Internet she barely remembered. They were as good as gone.

Not Trixie had come, taking up someone else's likeness and powers, and they had come to remedy that. She smiled awkwardly, considering things. At least Trixie didn't seem angry? She looked almost happy to have a chance to prove just how Trixie she was.

But she was Trixie! A Trixie? Maybe not that Trixie... People had her name before. Did every name have to belong to only one pony? What kind of stupid rule was that!?

Trixie felt an ear rising of its own volition. She could hear music coming closer. Not the harmony of many ponies swept up in song magic, but muffled electronic beats that didn't match most of what she'd heard since coming to Equestria. A white head bobbed to the time of the music, moving through the crowd with confidence.

Trixie smiled, recognizing the pony. "Vinyl Scratch," she declared out loud.

Vinyl didn't stop, she turned smoothly, navigating the crowd, coming towards Trixie with the rhythmic bobbing of her head. "'Sup?" she called, peering at Trixie through her red goggles. "Hey, there's..." She rolled a hoof in the air as her horn plucked her headphones free, dropping them around her neck. "You have a familiar vibe."

Trixie glanced left and right at the crowd moving past them. "Vibe?" She hadn't pegged Vinyl as a hippy. "Do you mean musically?"

"Nah." She hopped up easily onto the bench next to Trixie, sitting down on her haunches as if she had come just to do that. "You know a doctor?"

Trixie felt a flinch run through her. A memory that had been so easily forgotten came to the fore. "Fetlock?"

"That's the one." Vinyl nodded. "Two legs or four?"

Trixie tilted her head, eyes going to those moving past, but they weren't paying attention to the two showponies. "What do you mean?"

Vinyl reached forward and booped Trixie on the nose. "Ten years ago. Two legs or four?"

Trixie shrank back from the touch, but her attention was squarely on Vinyl. "T..." She glanced again, but the crowd still had no interest in her or her problems. Despite this, she leaned in close and whispered in one of those ears, "two."

Vinyl held out a hoof, hovering in the air. "Hey, radical. I don't meet Fetlock sisters often."

Trixie raised a hoof, barely making contact with the Vinyl. "You... too?"

"Yeah, not a single regret." She moved her hoof away from the clop to nudge at her headphones. "I get to make sweet music. I have a boyfriend that hangs on my everything. We have a little apartment that works for me. What do I have to complain about?"

Trixie lifted an ear at the fellow once-human. What were even the odds of them meeting in a city as populace as Manehatten? Approximately 100%, Trixie decided. Equestria was thick with the magic of destiny and fate. They met because they had to. The universe literally tossed her a bone.

Trixie smiled, her mood lifting. The universe cared. That was not a thing she remembered ever having evidence of before. Maybe things could work out. "So... hello. Trixie is in a bit of a... bind. May I share it with you?"

Vinyl nodded, grinning at her. "Hey, you look happier. Yeah, lay it on me. If I have an answer, you got it. If I don't, well, at least you have a friend, right?"

"Yes, a friend." Trixie suddenly launched forward. She was hugging Vinyl tightly, perhaps a little desperately. "Thank you."

"Hey, keep it chill." Vinyl gently pushed back at Trixie, laughing despite the attack of intimacy. "So what has you in a knot?"

"Ooo!" called a passing mare, though she was still walking. "Trixie and DJ-Pon3? They're never gonna believe it." She passed with a new rumor to spread.

Even as Trixie went red at the implication, Vinyl was laughing. She waved away in the direction of the mare. "Don't even sweat it. We attract rumors, just a hazard of the game. Besides, I'm a married mare, and happily so, so let them say what they want."

Trixie nodded quickly. "Yes, right, so... The problem is Trixie." She glanced left and right. "The original," she added in a hushed whisper.

Vinyl's ears went down, but sprang up almost as quickly. "Rough, but face it. You have to. Vinyl caught me pretty fast." She pointed at herself. "Red-hoofed, one music pony too many! But it wasn't so bad."

"No?" Trixie tilted her head. "You still call yourself Vinyl, right?"

"Or DJ-Pon3, depends on if I'm performing or not," agreed Vinyl easily. "We had a rocking music competition, and she liked my music." She grinned widely. "I was so stoked. She basically gave me permission to be another her. We even talk once in a while, when she's in town. She tours, you know. I'm a married mare, as I mentioned, so I don't."

Trixie bobbed her head, spirits lifting higher. "So... if I do really good, maybe she'll... let me be what I am?"

Vinyl booped Trixie's nose, a habit she seemed to have. "What are you?"

Trixie frowned a little. "What are you?"

"I am Vinyl Scratch." She sat up tall. "I make with the music and have a ball doing it. You?"

Trixie almost repeated the words back, but realized that wasn't entirely true. "Vinyl, may I hire you?"

Vinyl blinked owlishly through her goggles, a hoof raising to push them up, revealing her brilliant eyes. "Wait what?"

"I am serious." She tapped at the bench they were sitting on. "Trixie has challenged Trixie to a magic contest. Some awesome music could help put her show over the edge." She tapped at her chest. "I am... not exactly Trixie. Mostly Trixie. I do things... my way. Help me show my way isn't a bad way."

Vinyl cocked a brow. "Hey, this is your business. I can't give a freebie to a pony do--"

With a pop of magic, Trixie's coinpurse appeared, jingling as she shook it in the air. "I will pay."

"Well..." Vinyl peered at the bag curiously as she lowered her goggles back into place. "I'm not poor, but I'm not rich enough to casually say no to that. So... what's the plan?"

Trixie hopped up to all fours on the bench. "We get a soundtrack, then I will perfect my story to go along with it."

Vinyl tilted her head. "You're not doing a magic show?"

Trixie darkened at that, looking away. "I already said I will do it my own way..."

"Alright, alright." Vinyl slipped to the ground. "But you should make your story first." Her horn glowed as a small business card slipped free of her pocket and flew towards Trixie. "Call me when you have it, then I'll make a slamming music track to go with it. We'll make a rock opera the ponies never saw."

Trixie hopped down beside Vinyl, pocketing the card offered to her. "Yes, I will do just that. Thank you! You've... Thank you."

"Hey, it ain't no thang," assured Vinyl, already turning away, only to be grabbed from behind. She burst into laughter. "Trix, my mare, you're hugging my butt."

"Don't care." She released Vinyl despite the words. "I'll call you when I'm ready."

Vinyl raised a hoof in a sloppy salute as she vanished into the crowd, her music heard over the noise of rolling carts and clopping ponies, though already fading.

Trixie felt a smile stuck on her face, but concentrated on taming it to a more casual smirk. She felt that she had been given a weapon to do battle with. She got to trotting as she considered what story she would weave. Something exciting, something mysterious. Should it involve humans? The ponies seemed fascinated by those stories.

She slowed a moment, just to get bumped into by a pony. "Sorry!" She rushed ahead, rejoining the flow of the crowd before she spotted a little Italian, or the pony equivalent, place. Food sounded good. She ducked in to do some writing and eating. She had a contest to prepare for, and she planned on doing it right.

She sat in a small apartment. Vinyl was there, standing on two legs behind her DJ equipment. She waved at Trixie as the music began.

Trixie spoke in turn with the music she had never heard before, timing her words to it as best she could. It wasn't as easy as she imagined, but she was determined and kept pushing forward, at least until Vinyl cut the music.

She was shaking her head. "You're not embracing the song magic." She tapped at her chest with a hoof. "It's in here. You're a pony now, so you have it. That's just the way that works. Don't worry about matching the music, just tell your story."

Trixie tilted her head at her new friend. "If you're sure..." She didn't remember being musically inclined, but she had felt the touch of song magic before, carrying her along almost as a puppet, dancing and singing to the beat that overwhelmed her for brief periods.

The music resumed, electronic notes tingling as they pierced her equine form. Trixie nodded her head in time with it, but tried to do as she was told, speaking her story instead of trying to sing it.

A new pony poked his head in. "How's it going?" He was a stallion, smiling nervously.

"Hubby!" Exclaimed Vinyl with a grin. "Oh, shoot, I forgot to mention." She pointed at Trixie. "Say hello to a fellow once-human."

Trixie sputtered. "You didn't say your husband was a once-human too!"

Robert rolled his eyes as he approached Trixie. "She forgets to mention a lot of things, you get used to it." He offered a hoof towards Trixie, but it hesitated. "Oh... are you alright?" His eyes followed the faint marks of her troubled flight through the void.

Trixie winced back, shrinking. "I made... a slight miscalculation. Um... hello..."

"Robert," he provided. "I'm not replacing a pony, unlike the two of you. You look just like her, just a bit edgier."

Trixie shrank all the more. She didn't want to be an edgy Trixie.

Vinyl casually lobbed a stuffed animal at Robert's head. "You're crushing her. Say something nice."

Robert tilted his head left and right, looking over Trixie anew. "Did you do something to get those?"

Trixie looked up at him, wondering how callous he could be, still... "Yes. Trixie performed a trick of great magic to escape an impossible situation." She sat up, looking more confident. "When others thought she would fail, she came through, to the accolades of her peers." She casually didn't mention who her 'peers' were at the moment.

Robert stamped on the floor in pony applause. The gesture was rapidly returned with a thumping from downstairs. "Watch it up there," called up a cranky male voice.

"Ah, yeah, thin walls," explained Robert with a sheepish smile. "Still, cool! So, uh, what are you two doing?"

Vinyl stuck out her tongue. "Now that I know I said. We're working on a music number. Trix here has the vocals, I got the wubs." She ran a hoof over her precious equipment. "It's a paying gig."

Robert looked at her, then Trixie. "Paying? You must be doing well."

"I..." Financially, she was, Trixie realized. "Yes, and sharing a little with fellow once-humans..." She had found friends.

Author's Note

Behold as old faces return! Anyone remember Robert and Not-Vinyl?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

19 - Man Vs Himself

"You hired DJ Pon-3?" asked the original Trixie with a raised brow, peeking between Not Trixie and Vinyl. "You are desperate, but ready to fight. I like that." She gave a single nod, turning to the front. "Can you hear that? The crowd is thickening. Trixie's advertising was quite a success. Put on a decent enough showing as Trixie crushes you and Trixie may even share a little with you."

Vinyl patted Not Trixie on the shoulder. "Keep it cool. We got this."

Not Trixie could hear the crowd of countless ponies. This would not be a private battle, not by far. Her faint hope that Trixie's efforts to draw a crowd would fail crumbled. She would win or lose with an audience. That also meant that a lot of ponies would know there were two Trixies. "Aren't you worried ponies will react oddly if they know there are two of you."

"But there aren't two of Trixie," stated Trixie confidently. "Just one. That's why you'll lose that name." With confident steps, she strolled towards the curtain. "Now await your cue, Trixie will begin the show."

Vinyl watched her go before speaking, "She's not like Vinyl, you know, the original. I don't think she's alright with two of her."

Not Trixie lifted her shoulders with a sigh. "I suppose I wouldn't want two of me either." Though hosting a big show about it was not what she would have done about it. "Nevermind that, we just have to be ready."

"That's the stuff." Vinyl pat her DJ equipment before her horn glowed, folding it up into a little cube. "I'm ready when the word's given. Just like we practiced it, alright?"

Trixie smiled at the crowd of curious pony faces. "It's good to see so many of you tonight as Trixie defends her honor! An impostor has challenged her for the right to the name Trixie, and Trixie will not be standing down." She paced as she spoke, peering across the crowd with a determined look. "So I hope you are all prepared for a show of astounding magic, tricks she had saved for a special occasion, and whatever the copycat can come up with."

In the crowd, a pony began clopping her hooves together perhaps a bit early. Starlight was being supportive.

"Because Trixie is both Powerful and Humble, she will allow her doppelganger a chance to show what she has first. Trixie presents Trixie." She gestured broadly towards the back. "Come on out!"

Emerging from the back, the copy of Trixie strode. Vinyl gave a hoofs up as her equipment unfolded into a grand booth capable of her music. Not Trixie's steps were stiff, eyes taking in so many faces at once. It was like a sea of hum--equinity. "Good evening, everyone. Tonight I will be spinning a story."

She reared up on two legs as the music began, a soft tease of what was to come, gentle electronic notes. She went with it, not trying to force it. All she had to do was tell her story. "It's about a special little man with a special little plan." The music rose, wrapping around her words and her thoughts. She pointed into the crowd. "He was much like you."

"Much like me?" asked the stallion, his words fitting the notes of the song perfectly. The song magic had begun.

"Much like you," agreed Trixie. "He wanted to much more, but he was only so tall. Not even a tail or waggy ears." She turned and gestured broadly, her magic creating an image out of crackling lights of a general human shape. "Didn't know down from up, didn't know who he could trust. It was just the start of his journey." She turned with the last word, hooves wide as her magic flowed.

Behind the curtain, the other Trixie sat beside the working Vinyl. "Why is she telling a story that doesn't involve Trixie? What sense does that even make?" She leaned to the side, peeking out to see the crowd. They seemed interested enough, their eyes on the fake Trixie and her strange marks. "She isn't using nearly enough magic." Vinyl was ignoring her entirely, working her music.

In the crowd, Starlight peered at the not Trixie, taking measure of her as she wove her story for the crowd. "Huh..." she softly grunted to herself. Was that a changeling? She considered ways of testing for that, but there were annoyingly few spells developed to make quick confirmation of it. But what were those marks?

Starlight's ears perked in time with a sweeping change in the story. An idea came to her. Twilight had run into a copy with extra wounds once before. It had been a copy from the future. Could that be a Trixie from some alternative timeline, like the ones that Starlight had been creating just before Twilight talked some sense into her?

That would make some sort of sense. What sort of world would require Trixie to ever do anything that would result in those fine lines that ran across her like battle scars. Even Twilight, who Starlight knew had actually been in several battles, had avoided that.

Then again, even if it was another-world Trixie, it was still Trixie. Starlight smirked as she watched. She probably did something she shouldn't have and brought it on herself. That would be something Trixie would do. Real or not, from another world or not, Starlight saw 'a' Trixie putting on a show with passion and she smiled. They didn't seem to be acting like a mean invader. Hay, they had agreed to the contest Starlight had suggested against.

As if Trixie listened to her warnings...

The crowd was joining in the story, the magic of the song infecting them as they danced and played along with the alternative Trixie in their telling of the story that only she knew, but they spoke the words as if they had been rehearsing it as long as she had. Even Starlight wasn't immune, as she was a pony, and singing was a part of her nature.

The original Trixie scowled from behind the curtains, stepping out onto the stage. "You talk about some unknown star. We don't even know who they are. Why should we care, why would he dare? He sounds like some con man. Can't fool a star mare." Her words were sung, even if they rhymed as often as not.

Alternative Trixie waved towards the original. "He had to face such challenges."

"Had to face, yes, had to face," echoed the crowd, still caught in the music."

"He had to stay strong!" sung out the scarred Trixie.

"Stay strong, had to stay strong!" echoed the crowd.

"But in the end all he had left was but one little thing." She held her hooves close together. "One little thing."

"So small, so very small," echoed the crowd.

"This little song!" called out Trixie as the music swept in to support her, somehow even incorporating the other Trixie's interruption into its flow as if it had all been part of the production.

The original Trixie cringed, realizing she had fallen for the magic of the song. She fled back behind the curtain with a dive for cover, lost to the sight of the watching ponies. She scrabbled to her hooves, scowling at her clone. "Just you wait, Trixie will bedazzle them with her newest trick..." She stalked off to prepare for her part of the show.

Alternative Trixie was in her element, singing and dancing, though the dancing seemed to come from the song magic more than any amount of skill or coordination on her part. She surrendered to it and it happened, and she was loving it. She was telling her story, and they were living it out with her. She had never felt so attached to the world, so much a real part of it. "Boom-shoka-boom, the room did shake!" she sang, getting to an exciting bit with the protagonist facing some terrifying beast.

The music was sublime, if you liked electronic. The crowd seemed entirely onboard with it, swept up in its beat as they sang out their parts, helping her to weave the tale forward. She had lost all track of time. There was no room for such a concept, just the song, and her story, and the ponies participating in it. Whatever she was, she was... there. She was there and she had a story to share.

Vinyl nodded along to the beat of the backup music she was making. She was not swept up in the music magic, she rarely was. She was part of the source of it, a vital component. The most she ever felt was the urge to tweak her music just a little to keep that supporting structure flowing even in the case of disruptions, like the other Trixie had tried to do. She had a supporting role in the grand act of music, but that wasn't a part she looked down on. She was doing her part and a fine part it was.

The storytelling Trixie slid on her knees towards the crowd as the music settled. "What happens next is, as they say, another story." She bent forward, a forehoof folded in front of herself. "Thank you. Thank you all." Tears were in her eyes, flowing despite herself. She couldn't hold them back anymore than she could stop moving with the story. "Thank you."

The crowd erupted into cheers and stomps of the ground in approval of the show. Though Trixie was certain she hadn't seen them walk in with it, flowers showered her. She reached out a hoof and a full bouquet landed right where she could pull it closer. She rose up to three legs, one holding the flowers. "Thank you..." She glanced back towards the curtain. "But we're not done yet! I hope I didn't wear you out, because you're about to see the Great and Powerful Trixie weaving her amazing magic!"

Crackling exploded across the top of the stage and along the top of the curtains as the other Trixie strode out with her cocky smile returned. "It is good of you to remember to introduce your betters. Now that you've warmed them..." She gestured to the back and the other Trixie fled with her flowers. "It's time for a real show! This is a trick Trixie had first seen when she was bit a little filly."

Several strong-looking ponies trotted out onto the stage, carrying an immense glass case with them. Trixie waved to it. "Submerged, Trixie will free herself from certain doom! And that's only the first trick of many that will astound and amaze tonight!"

Her horn glowed as a ladder floated over and slapped against the side of the filling tank of water. She ascended the ladders, looking towards the crowd. "Though Trixie will certainly be in a grave amount of danger, you should not worry for her. She is a trained mare of magic and will defy death! To make sure this isn't too easy, she will be shackled before she enters."

She waved at her assistants and a pegasus flew over to her with a length of heavy chains. He threw it around her and had it tied quite quickly, leaving her barely able to wriggle. "As you can see, mmmf, Trixie is immobilized. Now, throw Trixie in!"

The pegasus looked not entirely certain, but an order was an order. He pushed Trixie right over the edge and into the water she sank rapidly. He grabbed the ladder and flew off with it, leaving the crowd with a clear view of Trixie as bubbles escaped her snout, sinking to the bottom of the tank.

Starlight's teeth clenched. That was a trick that was supposed to be performed with a team, not by one pony. She had volunteered to take part, but Trixie was quite adamant about facing her clone on her own. She had to sit and watch as her friend struggled in the water, more bubbles escaping.

Author's Note

Trixie makes a good show, but will it stand up against Trixie's performance?

Will Starlight have a heart attack watching this typo in progress?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

20 - Death Defying

Alternative Trixie peeked out at the original from behind the curtain, watching her struggle with a glowing horn beneath the water. "Is she alright?" she asked of no one particular, staring at her challenger with worry and awe in a heady combination.

"Hope so." Vinyl walked up beside her, watching the spectacle as she sat down. "Part of me wants to make some musical accompaniment." She shrugged softly. "But I'm on your tab, not hers, no matter the similarities."

The original Trixie gave a powerful flex of her held arms, her hooves swishing through the water as her magic got into just the right position. With a click heard through the startled-quiet crowd, the first lock came free, and with it, she gained some mobility.

She turned slightly in her cage of iron, turning her focus onto the second lock with a determined look in her eyes. All she had to do was... The tumbler slipped from her arcane grip as if the water was making it greasy, or was that her? Trixie refused to believe she was in trouble and set back to picking the second lock. The burn in her lungs was all part of the act!

Starlight rubbed her forehooves together slowly, pressed against one another tightly in her worry. She didn't like the way Trixie's movements were looking. She didn't like how long it was taking. She didn't like the trail of bubbles that just never seemed to stop escaping her friend. She didn't like a lot of things about the show! "Get out of there," she urged in a stressed whisper.

The crowd collectively gasped when Trixie went limp, a fresh wave of bubbles escaping her. From the crowd and the back, ponies sprang to their hooves, ready to burst into action, but Trixie started moving again. With a sudden twist, the wriggled free of the chains and swam to the top of the tank in a burst of speed few had expected. She crested it like a dolphin and came down on the wooden stage, water splashing all around her.

On wobbling hooves, she turned to the crowd and gave a delirious looking bow towards them all. "Behold! Death has been... defied!"

Hooves stomped the ground and clopped together in wild applause. The adoration seemed to reinvigorate Trixie, her smile deepening as her stance lost that shaking. Though, that could also have been the renewal of oxygen in her lungs. "But that was just the first act, dear attendees. You didn't pay for just one little trick, hmm? No, the Great and Powerful Trixie has so much more for you!"

She pointed into the crowd and wobbled her hoof left and right as her other covered her eyes. "And... you!" An elderly stallion pointed at himself with surprise. "Yes, you, come on up here. You get to be Trixie's assistant!"

The crowd helped him get up to the stage in a wave of assisting hooves, practically tossing him up onto the stage beside Trixie. She smiled at him easily. "Tonight is your lucky night. Trixie will be doing a little dance, using a trick a dear friend taught to me. Do you know how to dance?"

He nodded, glancing at the crowd nervously. "A little?"

"That is more than enough," she assured, patting the older stallion on the shoulder. "Your goal is to be under Trixie and wave this--" She pulls out a large ring of neon green and blue. "--over Trixie to show there are no wires involved."

Her horn glowing, music began to play. It sounded like a record playing, because it was one. Trixie had not gotten a live DJ for her performance. Still, it was spirited and served the purpose. She lowered her forehooves to her sides then slowly raised them with theatrical purpose. As her hooves lifted, her body went with it as if she were somehow picking herself up, her horn glowing fiercely. "Behold as Trixie defies the lines between tribes. Did you know unicorns can fly? Well, only the very special ones."

Soft gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. The older pony recovered from his shock and grabbed for the ring. He waved it over Trixie, sweeping it all over her as if actively searching for the wires that could be holding her up, but he couldn't find any, because magic didn't work that way.

She laughed merrily as she did a slow twirl in the air, her hooves moving in the beat of the music, no longer holding her up, but making her a living art piece as magic began to explode around her in brilliant flashes of light and color. Each strike of light across the crowd and stage lit her satisfied face and let her see their applauding expressions all the better.

Starlight was flopped on the ground, recovering from the stress of watching that first act. The second wasn't nearly as exciting, especially for her, who had taught her the trick in the first place. "Damn mare..."

Alternative Trixie nodded at the other Trixie. "I didn't know she could do that. That's pretty cool."

Vinyl perked an ear. "Yeah? If she wins for it, will it still be cool?"

AT shrugged softly. "Yeah? I'm not trying to say she's not Trixie after all. She's Great and Powerful." She smiled a little lopsidedly. "She also has an ego bigger than the city we're in and can be a pain, but she's great."

Vinyl nudged her. "Hey, glad to hear you say that. I'd hate to think I was helping someone be bitter to a pony. Fetlock doesn't get to tell us we're 'better' than the original." She pointed to where the music was coming from. "However, I can't stand this. My music sensibilities demand it end."

Trixie jerked to a stop as the record stopped with a squeak. "What?" New music began. It was far more electronic. She recognized it quickly. "Ah ha! Even her musician recognizes the greatness of Trixie." Grinning with triumph, she launched into the next act of her magic show, pulling an entire family of rabbits free of her soggy hat without a problem. Each little creature launched out onto the stage, though each had to jump a smaller distance as Trixie lowered to a landing.

When she bowed, they did as well, getting a fresh wave of applause.

"But now for something larger!" She waved a hoof at the tank that still sat there taking up space. "Trixie will make this entire thing vanish!"

Starlight sat up quickly, shaking her head fiercely back and forth. Teleporting that much, especially fluid, was beyond what she thought Trixie could do. She started waving her hooves just as frantically, hoping against hope that Trixie would abort the trick, as unlikely as that was.

All eyes were on the tank as Trixie reared up onto her hind legs and began gesturing at it. "By the powers that be and Trixie's amazing magic, I send you away into the abyss. Begone from her sight!" Her horn flared with a fresh wave of magic, encompassing the tank and willing it away.

It obeyed.

The water hovered there for a precious moment, ponies peering at it with confusion before it crashed down onto the stage and spilled out in all directions. Trixie began to be washed from the stage, carried along in the tide before her magic plucked her free of it to a vantage point where she could wash it wash over the first few rows of the crowd, yelps of surprise sounding out.

Those not in the splash zone were going wild, thinking it was part of the act. Trixie saw no reason to argue with the idea and landed gently on the stage, bowing proudly. Her trick had been both great and powerful, and that was all that mattered. "Trixie apologizes for not clearly marking the areas that would become wet, but if she did that, that would have ruined the surprise, hm?"

Starlight snorted softly as she shook herself free of some of the water. She knew with fair confidence that Trixie had not planned that in the slightest. Still, it was about the safest possible result of that trick, so her anger didn't rise above mild irritation. She trotted up towards the stage. "I think we've seen enough, Trix. You are Great and also Powerful."

Trixie nodded at her friend. "Trixie cannot argue this. If you are in such a rush, we can put it to a vote of applause now. Who is the most Trixiest Trixie of the Trixies?" She waved behind the stage. "Come forward, supposed Trixie."

Alternative Trixie swallowed nervously but emerged into the light with a nervous smile. She trotted out to stand beside the original, waving awkwardly at the crowd that still seemed perhaps a touch or two too large.

"Here she is," declared Trixie. "She who would call herself Trixie." She held up a hoof over the other Trixie. "Is she Trixie?"

The crowd looked between the two Trixies, confused murmuring going from pony to pony. Trixie turned her hoof towards herself. "Or am I Trixie, wizard and stagemare beyond compare?" The fact that she was comparing herself was entirely lost on her.

Hooves began to raise, pointing at the original. Even if they didn't like her show, it was clear to them which of the Trixies was Trixie. Trixie was a showmare, a magician. Agreement began to rise. The storytelling was nice, but it wasn't Trixie. Soon most of the hooves were pointing to Trixie, including Starlight's.

"Only Trixie would risk killing herself just to get some applause," sighed out Starlight as she rolled her eyes. "Are you happy now then?"

Trixie nodded with confidence. "She is." Her eyes settled on her doppelganger, a predatory smile on her face. "But there is one little matter... You lost, and with it, Trixie takes her name." She made a yanking motion with a hoof and the glowing word of 'Trixie' was pulled free of the copy. It was a magical illusion, but the symbology was clear enough. Trixie pulled her name over and tucked it under an arm. "You'll need a new name, not Trixie." She waved a hoof over the crowd. "Now, announce your true name for everypony here to know."

Not-Trixie's ears fell. Just like that? "You said you'd help pick a name," she weakly murmured. She had hoped to win the show, somehow, but that hadn't happened.

"Did she say that? That doesn't sound like a very Tr--" trixie's statement was cut off by a sudden bop on the head delivered by her friend.

Starlight smiled at the Not Trixie. "She's being dramatic, it's what she does. What she meant is that she'd be happy to help you with that."

"She would?" asked Trixie with a cocked brow. "We mean, of course she would!" She smiled at the crowd that was watching the exchange. "She was only kidding. Very well, we'll save the announcement for later, after Trixie magnanimously assists her doppelganger in selecting the perfect title to emphasize her talents, and that she is not Trixie."

The crowd began to disperse, detecting the show had run its course. Most seemed pleased by the spectacle offered to them that night. Starlight's eyes were on the Not Trixie. "So, really, what's your story? You didn't just... happen." She rolled a hoof. "What happened? Are you an alternative timeline Trixie?"

Not Trixie blinked at that. That would have been a great excuse! Why hadn't she thought of that! Still, it wasn't true, and she didn't feel like lying at that moment. "No..."

A hoof came between them. It was attached to Vinyl. "Long story. Let me pack my equipment and we can do a second story time once we're not standing on a stage, alright? Wanna help? More hooves makes the work go faster."

Starlight shrugged softly. "If it means I get some answers, sure, lead the way."

Trixie watched her friend go off with Vinyl before looking at her doppelganger. "What about Long Story?"

Author's Note

The story continues! How was the performance? Which Trixie would you vote for?

How's Long Story for a name?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

21 - It's a Long Story

Leaving behind the stage and the dispersing ponies, the group departed. They didn't go to Vinyl's place. "The stallion's probably already asleep," demurred Vinyl. "How big's your place?" She was looking at not-Trixie.

Not Trixie nodded softly, perhaps a bit numbly. "Y-yeah, plenty of room, kinda soft." She started leading the way in the awkward walk of someone taking a considerable loss.

Trixie rolled her eyes as she easily matched the pace. "Don't look like that. You were going against the Trixie, how could you win? If it helps, I thought you made a decent effort, but let's face it, you were doomed."

Starlight trotted up between the two Trixies, nudging her friend away from her doppelganger. "What she means is that you are your own pony, and you don't need to be Trixie."

"That is what I said," grunted out Trixie as if that had been perfectly clear.

Vinyl chuckled softly, walking along behind them with music drifting from her headphones.

"Trixie?"

Trixie turned an ear at her double. "Mm?"

"What was that name you gave me?"

"Long Story," chimed Trixie, looking quite proud of herself. "Just like the one we're going to hear, and the one you told this evening. I figured since you like stories, why not that?"

Long Story spoke the name under her breath, measuring the weight on her tongue. "Yes, Long Story... I can live with that." She reached up and adjusted her hat, only for it to be pulled away in glowing magic.

Trixie tucked the hat away. "Trade dress goes with the name. Get your own style."

Starlight huffed softly. "Do you have to strip her of her things in the middle of the street?"

Long shook her head. "It's alright." She raised a hoof to the front of her cape, her magic undid the clasp as the other Trixie's magic yanked it away, making her wobble a step. She was left naked. Even as her cheeks warmed, she remembered that the pony beside her, Starlight, was equally exposed.

Still, it was Manehattan, there were plenty of ponies in plenty of clothes inside the city, and she had become not one of them. "I'll have to find a new look."

Starlight smiled a little at Long. "If Rarity was still here, she'd help with that, it's her thing."

Long quirked a little smile. "I'll find something. Manehattan doesn't hurt for clothing options."

Trixie glanced around as they pushed towards Long's home. "This does not look like the 'good' part of the city. Are you certain we should be here?"

Long's smile deepened a little. "Is Trixie scared?"

"No!" Trixie stomped a hoof mid-step, glaring at her former double.

"My apartment is just a block away, and I can assure we won't be harassed here." She was literally with the local mafia. No random thug with a brain cell would dare to mess with the wizard of their gang. She felt fairly safe. "Besides, most of the ponies here just want to make it through the day, like any other pony."

"Yeah," joined in Starlight, bumping Trixie. "Stop assuming the worst."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "I have performed in many cities, Starlight. I am not 'assuming' anything. I speak from experience. There are some parts in a city you shy away from if you like your things staying your things."

"Trixie," came a male voice, a big stallion emerging from the darkness of an alley. He was looking at Long Story, though his eyes darted towards the other. "And... Trixie? What's the deal?"

Trixie shied behind Starlight for cover. Long Story waved at her as she smiled. "Meet Trixie. I'm not that anymore."

"Yeah?" Rags looked over the group. "Is that, uh, DJ?"

Vinyl raised a hoof. "Yo." She didn't seem worried about his presence or much else.

Starlight nodded at the stranger. "And I'm Starlight. Nice to meet you..."

Long waved at him. "This is Rags, a friend and co-worker you could say."

Rags snorted at that. "Co-worker, ain't called that in a while. These friends of yours? And if ain't Trixie, what are ya?"

"That is a Long Story, and so am I." She smiled, looking self-satisfied. "I'll explain everything, later. Let me get them off the street, alright?"

"Yeah, ain't no thing." He nodded firmly. "Uh, you, uh..." He looked away, colored faintly. "The bare look suits you."

Starlight burst into laughter suddenly, moving between Long and Rags. "You can compliment her fashion choices later, Rags. For tonight, we're with her."

Trixie snickered, her fear abated. "I think you have somepony that likes you." She nudged Long with a grin. "He has good taste."

Vinyl walked on past everyone as if the conversation wasn't happening, her head bobbing to the music. Long spotted her going and rushed to catch up. "See you later, Rags! This way." Soon she could ascend the stairs to the building that held her boss, her 'co-workers', and her apartment.

They all piled into the elevator and it began to raise towards her floor. "I didn't know I'd have guests today."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," assured Starlight. "We're not here to judge."

"Says you," teased Trixie with an impish smile. "Let's see what squalor my would-be double dwells in."

With a ring, the door opened and they spilled out into the hallway. It was a short trot to her door. A key floated from her pocket and had it open quickly. "Mi casa es su casa," chimed Long with a bow and a wave.

Starlight perked an ear. "I'm not sure what you said but that sounded friendly enough." She moved past Long into the softness of Long's apartment. The thick shag carpeting her first contact with it. "Oh..." she walked gingerly, feeling the softness as she went. "You could toss an infant in here and they'd be safe."

Trixie hurried in after her, only to stagger on hitting the soft carpet in surprise. The apartment was not squallor. There was a pizza box on the table, but other than that, it was neat. Neat, and soft. Trixie tossed herself onto the couch, sinking into its plush depths. "I think I like this... I may have to get one for my wagon."

Vinyl was the last of the guests to enter, walking along as if nothing was unusual. "Nice place," she complimented, her eyes wandering. "What job do you have to get such a nice place? Does it involve that bruiser we ran into out there?"

Long willed the door shut behind her as she joined her guests. "Welcome to my house, um, yeah. Like I said, he's worked with me before. So... can I get anyone a drink? This is a Long Story after all."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "We're glad you're already enjoying your name, but get on with it."

Long hopped up onto one of her chairs, as soft as everything in the room. "Alright, so... This starts a while ago. I didn't even have hooves then."

Trixie blinked, then her eyes went wide. "Human!" she squeaked out. "My double was a human?!"

Long's story deflated in her mind. "You know what one of those are?"

Trixie pointed at Long accusingly. "Of course I know what one of those are! I mean... Long Story, please, continue."

Starlight hiked a brow at Trixie. "Yeah huh... Anyway, yes, please, go on."

Long nodded as she sat up fully. "Right, anyway, fingers, lack of fur, and a general malaise about the direction of my life. The idea of a world of color and sweetness had a lot of appeal. When I got the invite, I jumped for it, and ended up like this." She pointed at herself. "I was a stallion back then."

Trix snorted softly. "My double was also--" She didn't get to finish, being bopped on the head by an irate-looking Starlight. "Yes, yes, go on."

Though burning with curiosity, Long proceeded. "So, as I was saying, I came here, and was given this body, and the mental baggage that came with it." She tapped at her head. "Part of me wanted to just... give in and become Trixie, but the other part, the human, refused. I was me, and I liked me, even pony me."

Vinyl raised a hoof from the floor. "I can dig that."

Long nodded at her, smiling. Vinyl was also a once-human. It was nice having someone who felt similar things. "So I became... not-Trixie. I did things my own way."

Trixie leaned forward without bothering to sit up, enjoying the softness of the couch too much. "And you started telling stories when?"

Long thought back. "It was on the street. Some foals recognized me, as you, and wanted me to put on a show. I wasn't feeling confident enough to put on a full magic show, so I told a story instead with some magical backup... It went well, and I really liked it."

Trixie wrinkled her nose. "Did you have the sense to collect some bits." She glanced at Starlight glaring at her. "What? She did the work, she should get paid. It's only fair."

Vinyl looked left and right. "I don't think Long's hurting for bits. She paid for my show and she lives in a nice apartment. I'd rather a two bedroom, but other than that, pretty cool. I wonder how the carpet affects the acoustics."

Long put a hoof behind her head, absent of a hat as it was. "Um, yes. It was not too long after that, poof, Trixie appears in a crowd, challenging me."

Trixie sat up at that. "You're skipping things!" She pointed at Long accusingly. "You never said how you got all those marks. That has to be worth mentioning. How did you take this--" She gestured her face. "--perfection and do... that." She pointed at Long with a frown.

Starlight nudged her friend with a hoof. "Maybe that's just how she came here in the first place. Nopony said it was, you know, perfect."

That was a good excuse, but with the three of them watching her, Long didn't feel confident in any outright lies. "I said that before... I tried to teleport too far with too much stuff. An entire tub full of stuff, across town."

Trixie tilted her head. "And you couldn't do it?"

Starlight's eyes rolled. "Trixie, do not try that, ever. Teleporting is an act of finesse and power. The farther you go, the more finesse is needed. The more you bring, the more power you need. If you don't have enough of either, bad things happen. If you're along for the ride, more bad things can happen. It's one thing to chip a stone table." She glanced aside at Trixie with clear accusation. "It's another for that same pressure to be applied to a living body."

Vinyl bobbed her head once out of the tune of her music. "I stick with the easy stuff, magic-wise. Vinyl was never deep in on magic, and this Vinyl isn't either. We prefer the magic of solid music, and that's more than enough for the both of us. Teleporting a record is about the most I need."

Trixie waved the thought away. "Trixie was meant for magic, flashy magic that can entrance a crowd. She's only growing better over time at bedazzling her gaping fans to their accolades and cheers." She grinned triumphantly, as if the crowd were calling to her just that moment.

Long shook her head. "I'm sure if you had tried it, you would have done it without being sent to the hospital for it."

Trixie cringed. "She is sure she would have... You're alright though?"

"I'm fine." Long hopped down from her chair. "Better than fine. I met some wonderful friends."

"Hey, no problem," assured Vinyl. "You're welcome to stop by even if you don't have a gig."

Starlight didn't share in the easy smiles. "You've been avoiding what you do, and I don't like the hints I've been given so far. Long Story, if you're being pressured, now is the time to ask for help. Are you being forced to do something you don't want to do?"

Author's Note

Let's learn about Long Story! Starlight is not easily misled.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

22 - Need Help?

Long squirmed under their peering eyes, even if one set was bobbing to music, one was looking curious, and only the third was staring with intense focus. "I..." Was she being forced? In a manner... "I made a deal, to get this." She pointed a hoof at herself. "I still like this, even with the marks, even with the problems. Even being put in my place by the real Trixie."

Starlight hiked a brow. "Right, and who did you make this deal with?"

Vinyl shook a hoof in the air opposite of the motions of her head. "I bet I could figure who that is. Likes to blow her mane out of her eyes? Has a griffon for a secretary?"

Long perked her ears. "You came the same way?"

"Sounds like, if that sounds familiar." Vinyl bobbed her head to the tune of the music the others could dimly hear. "She's kinda kooky."

Starlight nodded slowly. "Right, so how did she approach you, a human, from across universes? Does she have a mirror portal?"

Vinyl and Long shook their heads in unison.

Ignoring their conversation, Trixie was busy testing just how plush the sofa was, becoming lost in its depths.

Long pointed in the vague direction she thought she had come from. "I... have a hard time remembering that part." She dimly remembered sitting... "A friend reached out to me... They asked if I wanted this, mentioned I'd have to do some chores for it, I think?"

Starlight's brows went up together. "Your friend works with this unknown pony?"

Vinyl snorted. "I didn't get anything so elaborate. I just heard music I couldn't deny and I rocked out so hard I ended up on four legs." A grin split her face. "One of the best times of my life. 10/10, would transform again."

Long suddenly raised a hoof. "I don't think it was my friend, thinking about it... It was too convenient, showing up... on my computer."

"Computer?" asked Starlight, baffled at the word.

Vinyl shrugged. "Fancy box thing that has answers and lets you talk to ponies in far off places. Been a while since I heard that word."

Long felt tension leave her. It was nice having a peer. She felt less alone. "Yes, that. The words had my friend's name, but it wasn't... wasn't them, I don't think, looking back on it. My friend wouldn't have acted that way. But I was maybe too eager and didn't think about it at that moment. I just agreed, and left behind my humanity."

"And masculinity." Starlight tapped at her chin, looking thoughtful a moment. "And then this other pony, with the mane, and the... griffon." She frowned softly. "She sounds... familiar. Does her name start with an F?"

"Fetlock?" offered Long.

Starlight stood up. "I have to go. Trixie, come on."

"Mm?" said Trixie from the depths of her soft prison, lost to the world.

"Come on, you." With a shining horn, she plucked Trixie free of the couch she had sunken into. "Get your own couch if you want one. We're leaving."

"We are?"

Starlight was already trotting for the exit, Trixie floating behind her.

Vinyl watched them go. "That was sudden. Think she has a problem with Fetlock?"

"Maybe?" Long didn't have too strong of an opinion about that pony. She had given the gift of magic, but also sold her to the mafia. That was some mixed package. "How many people do you think she's put in pony bodies?"

"More than just us two, I bet." Vinyl reached up and lowered her headphones free of her ears, the music growing a little louder without her head in the way. "Say, uh, how was it?"

"How was what?"

"You know, the change." Vinyl grinned. "Was it nice? I mean... I was so busy rocking at the time, I barely... paid attention to it. I knew it was happening, but, you know... Now I regret that a little."

Long stood up and hopped down to the plush carpet. "I was awake and focused on it." She hadn't thought about it deeply in a while, but with the prompting, she could remember it. "I was... confused, but happy. I was a little scared, but I wanted it." She swayed her tail as she smiled at Vinyl. "It was uncomfortable several times, things popping and shifting, but not too bad."

"Rad." Vinyl hopped down, her nose close to Long's. "Thanks." She reached up and tapped Long on the horn. "You good enough with that thing to do it?"

"Do what?" asked Long with a befuddled blink.

"Transformation magic." Vinyl nodded at her own question. "I wouldn't mind, you know, experiencing it proper just once, so I know what it was I missed. Just to see. I like being Vinyl, no rush to drop that."

"I wouldn't know where to start," Long admitted uncertainly. "That doesn't sound like the kind of magic you'd want to use without being very sure." The idea of hurting her new friend was terrifying. "Let's not just... experiment."

"Yep, not Trixie," laughed Vinyl as she poked Long on the nose. "She would have just done it and been sorry, a little, afterwards."

"I suppose that's true." Long smiled, imagining Trixie looking vaguely sorry about causing trouble with her magic. "Were you also a guy?"

"Same as you." She sat down in front of Long, looking her over. "Funny thing, a pony can go standing up either way."

Long colored rapidly. "Wait, you do that?! There's a toilet in there, I just... kinda assumed you sat on it."

Vinyl waved the surprise away. "I'm joking, just joking, but you can go standing up, tested it. Don't test this where ponies are looking."

Long's tongue extended. "Now you have me imagining ponies relieving themselves!"

"Then my mission is complete," laughed Vinyl before she raised her hooves, grasping Long's cheeks to look her in the eyes. "Real talk. The day I let him, you know, top me... That was a strange time. Part of me was screaming. That was the day I turned in my man card for good. When you let a man climb up on you, do that... think about the kids that may result..." She tilted her head. "Don't think I regret it, mind. I love him. I love me. I'll love the adorable result of our play when that happens."

Long's face was on fire, blushing fiercely with the imaginings of what Vinyl was describing. "I... haven't done that..."

"I didn't think you had." Vinyl released Long's face and gave her a poke in the chest. "So you still have a choice. Don't assume the choice is made. Hell, the ponies don't care. You want to kiss on a mare, they won't notice unless you grind their faces in it. Want a stallion? Plenty to pick from. Want to be single? Join the majority and that's fine too."

Long thought of Rags. She knew he was interested in her, but was she interested in him? She was fairly sure that attraction did not run as powerfully in the other direction.

"Already have somepony in mind?" asked Vinyl with a grin. "You look like it."

"You met him..." Long turned for the exit. "Outside, he's nice enough."

"Nice enough is not nice enough." Vinyl scoffed softly. "I went for the first stallion, but that was because he's the one that called me. Just like you feel chained to whatever you're chained to. Difference being I like him back, and you don't look like you like whatever you're attached to."

Long thought of Don Keyworks, the one she was 'attached' to. There was no love there, just greed. Perhaps it was greed on both sides. She wanted things, he wanted things, and together they got those things. There was no love there, except a love of what she could get for him. "I... tried to get away. Every time I bring it up, he brushes me off, and... Then it's gone. I can never insist."

Vinyl shook her head as she stood up. "You agreed to it, just like me. You agreed to it deep in here." She tapped her own chest lightly. "That's what Fetlock does, I think, makes your soul sign a contract. I agreed to love him. Lucky me, he isn't too hard to love. I had to beat some bad habits out of him, but hey, when does a mare not have to do that?"

"Is there no escape?" asked Long in a scared little voice. "Am I stuck?"

"Nah, never said that." Vinyl clopped her hooves together before walking towards the kitchen, tail swaying with each step. "Just makes it harder. When you're sick enough of it, want out bad enough, you'll tear up that contract. Just know that you can."

"How do you know that?!" Long chased after Vinyl. "You know a lot of things."

"Nah." Vinyl's horn glowed as she willed the fridge door open. "I'm assuming. Prove me right." She snagged a carton of juice out of the fridge with the big picture of an orange on the side. "I'll feel good." She poured out some bright orange fluid into a glass, watching it flow. "Want some?"

"How kind of you to offer my own juice," spoke Long with a wry smile. "But yes, go for it." She flicked an ear back. "I... think I'll push forward, for now. I... have this under control."

"Gonna get more marks?" Vinyl set the carton back in the fridge, two glasses of orange juice created. She lifted them in her magic and floated one over to Long, holding it until the color around it shifted to show it was being held by the other mare. "Be careful, alright? I'd feel bad. You're the first fellow Fetlock survivor I know."

Long swallowed tensely. "Survivor? Some don't survive?"

Vinyl shook her head. "One... came out really freaky, but technically alive. Whatever it was, I'm not rushing to be its friend." She offered out a hoof. "But you I don't mind as much, so long as you don't crimelord on me."

Long's ears fell. "I'm not a... Look, I won't, promise."

"I'll hold you do that." Vinyl brought in her class, tinking softly against Long's. "To brighter futures."

"Yes, brighter futures." Long tipped her glass, drinking of the smooth juice with a long pull. "Thank you, really. You don't have to babysit me though. Your stallion's probably worried about you."

"Yeah, he does that." Vinyl nudged her headphones back into position. "I'll get back to him. You have my number, give me a jingle sometime."

They both set their glasses on the countertop, about a quarter-full of juice each.

Vinyl walked for the exit. "Seriously, if things get tense, call, alright?" She looked over her shoulder. "You're not alone." She threw up a hoof in what might have been a peace symbol, had she the fingers to do that, then she was gone, the door closing quietly to seal Long in her plush prison.

Long sank to her belly, the carpet grasping her softly from below in its softness. "This really is a soft prison..." Its softness did not change the fact that it was a prison and held her securely. She imagined Don's face, cigar hanging from his mouth. He never forced her, exactly, but he wasn't listening much either. He'd wave her complaints away, then...

Long shook her head violently. "I'm getting depressed. Enough, so I'm not Trixie anymore. That's not the end of the world." She looked back over her exposed form. "I'm Long Story, a fine pony that... people will want to know and be friends with even more than Trixie." She rose back to her hooves and walked with muted thumps of her hooves on the carpet. "First, a bath, then, some sleep. Tomorrow is another day."

She would make a better life for herself, one day at a time.

Some small piece of her was upset that her decision wasn't enough to prompt some song magic.

Author's Note

Talking, so much talking in this chapter! Good talking though, I think? Starlight's gone off chasing a typo.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

23 - Crimelord

"Good you could make it." Don was smiling at Trixie, cigar dangling from his teeth casually. He looked over the other gathered criminal ponies casually. "Here's the next job. It'll be a team hit, but no offense from their end, promise, right?"

Long nodded softly. "Right, oh, I'm not Trixie anymore."

"Eh? What are ya? You still look like Trixie to me." He frowned a little, peering at should-be-Trixie.

"Long Story." She gestured to herself. "Nice to meet you, again. So, uh, where to?"

"Right." He turned and pointed a hoof at a map of Manehattan. "Gonna knock over a bank. Not jus' any bank, mind. This one's a real piece of work, messing with good ponies in the neighborhood and getting away with anything the law lets 'em get away with. The cops can't do a darn thing, so we will. Make the community a step better, and rake in more bits than we know what to do with."

"Ain't no such thing," interrupted Rags with a smirk. "We'll find a use for 'em."

"Glad to hear you say that." Don tapped the icon of the building that would be the target. "So make it happen. Your cut'll be sweet. Standard rules, ya know? No roughin' up ponies that don't deserve it none, and the guards are on that list. They're just workin' for a paycheck. You see a bank exec, you can give them a kick."

Long was studying the map and the buildings around it. "This is a real Robin Hood kind ot thing." Stealing from the rich to give to the poor, even if a lot of it would go to themselves. "When do we go?"

Don shook her head at Long. "Yer talkin' odder than normal today. You sure you're ready?"

Long's ears went up. For just a moment she was tempted to use the excuse and get out of things, but he kept right on talking.

"Clear your head. This is a group task, so you can all plan it out, just get it done before mid-week. They'll be moving their reserves out, and we want those." He stepped away from the wall, slipping past them all. "Make me proud."

Tr--Long looked to Rags, a familiar face among many strange ones. "So... are we after piles of bits?"

Another pony, a mare, cut in, speaking in technical tones, "while the number of bits is considerable, a good portion of their holdings are in the form of processed jewelry, ledgers, and other lighter goods. If we were to secure those, we could consider the mission a success."

"This is Number Runner," introduced Rags, waving towards the slight mare. "She's good at her job."

Number extended a hoof towards Long. "A pleasure. I predict a 65% chance of success. This will raise if my lead is followed precisely. Your arcane knowledge is a key part of my plan. Are you prepared?"

Long met the hoof with one of her own, clopping lightly. "Nice to meet you. I'm Long Story, as I said."

Number blinked softly. "I thought you were saying your name change was the long story."

Rags shrugged in agreement. "I thought that too, huh, Long Story, nice to meetcha again."

Number adjusted her half-rim glasses in a fidget. "Regardless of your title, are you prepared fully? The sooner we act, the higher our odds of success."

Long nodded towards the map, eyes weandering over it. "Do you know what the inside's like?"

Number turned away from the map, approaching one of the windows instead to look down at the street far below. "I was informed of this mission before you two and have had a chance to survey things. I know what we want and I know where it is. With your magic, this should be simple." She had no such magic, being a slender earth pony.

Rags stepped between Number and Long. "She ain't carrying too much, right?"

Long's cheeks warmed, realizing she was being protected by Rags. "Not too much, right?"

Number nudged her glasses. "If I did that, Don would be most irate with me, with a 79% chance of reprisal. You are considered a valuable asset and are not to be squandered. My calculations include a reasonable limit in your abilities." She pointed up and behind herself, directing attention back at the map she was not facing. "All factors have been accounted for."

Long nodded with increasing confidence. "I'm ready then. If we're not fighting, I feel better about this."

"Excellent." She fidgeted with her glasses, jostling them in place. "We begin tonight then." She reached a hoof back and pulled out a collection of papers. "Examine these." She dropped them in front of Long and was already reaching for another set. "You too." Flop went a second collection in Rag's direction. "We must all move with precision to maximize our odds of success."

Rags snatched up his papers. "Yeah huh, so if the timing's so important, why tonight?"

"Why not tomorrow?" continued Long with the same thought. "This isn't much time to study." Her magic lifted her papers into view.

"Because tonight is our best opportunity." Numbers turned away from the window and the board, starting for the exit. "I will be in position at the allotted time. Do the same, follow the plan, and we will end this task before the don even thinks we've started it. The acclaim will be considerable."

Rags let her leave the room before nudging Long. "You sure you're up for this?"

No. "Yes." She read over the first sheet of her packet, taking it in. There was a map and guard routes and everything. Number had been incredibly thorough in her work. "This is impressive... If she had been with us on the last one, it would have gone differently."

Rags brushed aside the papers Long was reading to look her in the eyes. "Hittin' high-profile targets with heavy security is her thing. Against a bunch of thugs, she ain't so hot, ya know? Don ain't perfect, but he knows what ponies gets a job done, and we'z it."

Long folded the papers into a curl, rolling it up and tucking it away into the pocket she was increasingly familiar with. "Well, good then. Let's trust her and do our part. If this is as valuable as everypony's making it out to be, we'll score another vacation if we do it right."

Rags cleared his throat, looking around awkwardly. "Um, yeah, um... say... if we... you know... wanna do it together?"

Long blinked at the larger stallion. "Do it together? Aren't we already?"

"No! I mean, you know, taking time off? Together? Hanging out?" He had pinkened, but only mildly. His nervousness broadcasted through his speech and some mild amounts of fidgeting in his hooves and legs. "It'll be fun."

Long smiled at him. She didn't dislike him. She didn't like like him either. He was strong, she knew that, and he was sincere in his liking of her, but was that enough? She remembered Vinyl's view on it. "We could watch a movie, sure. Um, Rags, no offense, but you don't know me, and I don't really know you. We should... fix that before we try to make more of it."

Rags blinked, looking disarmed in a moment of awkward silence. He sank to his haunches. "But... we can?" He smiled a little shyly, an odd look for his tough face. "Alright then. We'll meet for real, Long Story. Let's get this done, and we can take our time."

Long felt a smile spreading on her face, matching his. That had gone well, she decided. They would give it an honest try, like two adult ponies. That was perfectly reasonable, yes? "Let's. First, we have a bank to rob."

"Right." He pointed at his paper, then at Long's pocket. "Why don't we read it togetha like? Teamwork, right?"

"Right," agreed Trix--Long. She drew her packet free of her pocket and set it beside his as she came around so they could both see what was written easily.

They pored over the details. Every action had a precise time and location. The guards would be at specific places, doing specific things that required exact counter-actions to get around and circumvent. There were traps and locks that would need to be overcome, but none of the sheet had any 'improvise' moment. It was all clearly laid out. When you saw this, do that, proceed for 20 seconds forward, take a left, advance for 30 more seconds.

"She scares me," admitted Rags. "Always figured if she wanted me outta the picture, she could get it done." He tapped halfway down on his side of the plan. "Here I pick up what you got."

Long nodded towards it. "And here's where I leave it for you to find." She tapped with her magic at a point on her side on the paper just a step before his. "We never even see each other. This plan is amazing."

"That's Number Runner for you." He stood up, eyes sweeping left and right rapidly. "We do our parts just right, and everything falls inta place. It's like magic, just not as direct as yours."

Long turned to the next page. "And... this is when I leave." The instructions had her escape point, a multi-jump teleport. She would be carrying nothing, so they should not be problematic. "Looks like you'll be doing the hauling."

"Yeah, that's fine." Rags reached for his paper and began folding them in half. "No more big teleports. Don't need you getting hurt again. Seriously, that wasn't cool." He suddenly pat her once on the back. "Get back in one piece."

Long tensed slightly at the contact, but didn't ward him away. It was kind of nice having someone worrying about her. "Let's make this a long story worth sharing, perhaps with the names changed to protect the guilty,"

He laughed, hoof coming right back down to swat her where he had so gently pat her. "That reminds me, what's up with your name? You seem comfortable with it." A thought seemed to click in him even as he spoke. "You never were Trixie, were ya?"

Long's mouth opened to argue her case, but... Did she? Was she? "No... I really wasn't... I hope you'll be alright working with Long Story and not Trixie the Great and Powerful."

"You're you." His hoof reached for her. Not her back, but her face. The great hoof filled her vision a moment as he cupped her face between his hooves, trailing gently along one of the lines she'd earned in her last great heist. "You earned that, and it ain't somethin' that'll come clear with just a swapped name tag."

Long felt heat reflecting off his hooves, though it took it a precious moment for her to realize it was not his hooves that were the source of the heat. Her cheeks were on fire. Being held in those gentle hooves, gazing into his caring eyes... For just a moment, she just wanted to stay there, and never move again.

His hooves drew away, the spell broken. She remembered where she was, in a small private room of the Don, working out the plan to break the law in the biggest heist she'd done so far. She wasn't stealing from other gansters. She wasn't taking from some single organization even. It was a bank! It held money that belong to many many many ponies. "Thank you," she said in a voice that felt too small and far away.

She rolled up her papers and slipped them away out of sight. "I'll be ready. Let's do this by the numbers." She tapped her furry pocket, invisible as it was. "If she did her part, we'll do ours, and we'll be done, right?"

"Yeah, exactly. She did the hard part." He lifted one hoof at a time in a sort of rolling stretching of his limbs. "We can follow instructions, right? No sweat."

Author's Note

Typed in a hotel, then on a plane flying home from Bronycon 2018 (reportedly the second to last, what?!).

I hope you are enjoying the tale. How will Long Story do with this job?

24 - We're In

Long Story trotted down the street as casually as possible. She could see the bank rising tall to the right as she went. It was getting close to closing time, which is when they would act. She had to get to just the right place, walking along at the pace she was going.

What she wouldn't give for a heads-up display of the timing as she went. Alas, Equestria didn't have that technology and she had to work with her internal timer. She saw two employees step out of the bank as she walked. They looked happy and relieved. Was it the end of their shift?

That was a sign to move. She vanished. It was a brief trip through the space between Here and There that allowed her to slip out into a hallway she had never seen before. She normally avoided jumping to places she hadn't seen at least once, but Number's instructions had been so specific, she jumped with reasonable confidence.

She was inside. She had no time to marvel at getting that far. She strode forward on purposeful, yet quiet, hooves. She placed each carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible. The first guard she'd run into would hear her otherwise. One, two, three... There.

She leaned around a corner and the guards-mare was exactly where she should be. Number had predicted she would pause for exactly two seconds at exactly that spot. She would swing her flashlight to the left, then the right.

Trixie blinked past the opening in the hallway, skipping the guard and proceeding on stealthy hooves. She had to proceed forward at that pace for five seconds, then that guard could be considered neutralized.

Trixie allowed herself a smile. Perhaps everything would work out just as planned. It had thus far. The next obstacle wasn't alive, but she didn't predict much of a problem either. A simple closed door was little for a talented magical mare as herself. She approached the metal door and nodded at it calmly. She didn't even slow down as she walked towards it, that wasn't on the schedule.

With a puff of smoke, she vanished to appear behind it, as if she had simply kept walking, ignoring the door that should have stopped her. She liked being a magical pony.

A bright light shone across her field of view. Right. Hazard 3 was much more perilous, and was not to be skipped past. The next hallway was a confusing mess of laser trip-wires. She had instructions for getting past them. One step forward. Left. Jump and roll. She was halfway down the hallway, and she didn't hear any alarms blaring.

Was that any assurance? She took a slow step forward. Then it was a slide to the right? No left! She slid into position and ducked down just as a beam swept towards her. She was advancing steadily, on time, she thought.

She focused on her veil of invisibility, fading from sight just in time for a beam to slice right through her, passing unhindered to the other side just as the plan had predicted. Part of her wondered why she couldn't invisibly dash across the room, but she figured that answer out quickly. Being invisible was a lot of work. Moving while doing it multiplied the effort.

Long let go of the spell just as the beam passed her and dove between two lines coming together in front of her. She was past them! She couldn't help but give a little relieved laugh at it all. She hadn't been sure she could make that, but there she was, on the far side. Her assigned two seconds of victory were over. How had Number Runner known she would need a moment to savor victory?

"Get the money out of here," came a stern male voice. "Not by next week, by tonight."

"Y-yes sir," came a meeker male voice.

Long froze. That was not in the plan! She resumed walking almost as quickly. She had to have faith. If they were not in the plan, they were to be ignored. They would not cross her path. She had to have faith in Number and her meticulous plan.

Even if that same plan's precision meant even the slightest deviation would throw it all off.

Even if... No! She clenched her teeth, advancing forward towards the voices. There was an intersection. She would pass right through it without delay. No one would see her, and she would be-- "--Who are you?" She turned, her face a mask of horror at the sound of the smaller stallion that was peering at her with confusion.

The hallway suddenly became purple. The larger stallion spoke from out of sight, "She ain't going anywhere. Grab her!"

"U-um, yes, sir." He stepped towards her, looking quite unsure.

Abort abort! screamed in Long's head as she concentrated on a faraway place. She vanished with a sparkle, but did not appear where she had intended. It was a small room with a single door. She rushed over to the door, willing it open, but the handle only jiggled a little. It was locked. The room was filled with the same purple light as the hallway. She rested a hoof on the door. "Be calm..." She focused on skipping past the door. Doors were not a problem!

She appeared in the middle of the room. "Or..." She sank a little. "Or I'm stuck..." There had to be another way out. She hurried back to the door and pawed at the handle with her hooves in a panic before she remembered a trick. She reached into the handle with her magic, a grin growing on her face. She'd pick it and be out of there in--

A bright jolt of electricity jumped from the lock into her horn and she fell back with a startled cry. That had hurt! Looking up, she could see the end of her horn was singed black and stung fiercely. The bank had anti-unicorn measures, and they were a lot better than what the convention had failed to use. She was trapped.

She was caught.

Tears began to well up in her eyes. "No... No no no no! This can't be happening!" Maybe it was all a terrible dream that she'd awaken from at any moment in a cold sweat, to laugh and berate herself on being so silly.

"Trixie?!" came a voice from the other side of the door. It was Rags. "Was that you? Hold on! Bloody mane, this is all going to... horseapples!"

Long banged on the door. "I'm in here! Please, get me out!"

But she heard other clops coming closer, loud angry voices, and then hoofsteps rapidly retreating. She would not be rescued. She sank to the floor, shivering softly. Surely there was something she could do? She was a magical pony. She rooted around in her memory for tricks that would get her out of that room.

"Teapot!" she exclaimed, pointing at the door. Magic flared brightly from her scorched horn, zapping the door only to bounce back and strike her. Everything went dark.

She had lost all sense of time, space, or even being. She had no idea what had happened. The next thing she knew, she was waking up on a cot, bolting upright with a startled gasp. She had hooves, she could see them shaking in front of her. She had a nose, she could feel her cute ears twitching and her tail swaying as she fell out of the cot.

She looked around with dazed eyes, taking in the cement walls and the bare floor. She was... in jail? She sank miserably towards the floor.

"I thought you wouldn't ever wake up." The mare that spoke those words ruffled her wings. It was Bell Tailslide, the pegasus Long had run into a few times before. "Welcome to the slammer." She smirked a little. "It never gets easier, but at least this time, they put me in with someone I know."

Long sat up on the cold floor, looking over her new roomate. "Oh, um... hello? Bell, right?"

Bell flashed a smile. "That's me. And you're Trixie."

Long pointed at herself. "Long Story, actually. Um..." She glanced around, noting the other cells that held other quiet ponies. "Are we... Will he get us out?"

"Maybe." Bell patted the space beside herself on her cot. "Maybe not... He's a great guy, but he don't always rescue us when we end up in here. Making moves on jails isn't on his 'to-do' list."

Long pulled herself up beside Bell and sank with a tired sigh, though she shook with nervous energy. "Are we... staying together? At least we're..." Were they friends? They were co-workers at least. She felt safer with Bell than some random criminal mare. "I'll be nice to you if you return the favor."

"That's a deal I can take." Bell gently pat Long's back. "Is this your first time? You're acting like it."

"Yeah..." She clenched her teeth, thinking about where things had gone wrong. "Did they... bring me here as a teacup?"

"Huh?" Bell raised a brow. "You were asleep, but not a teacup. They said you'd wake up eventually, but that was two days ago. I was losing hope and thought I'd just have a vegetable for a bunkmate forever."

Long nervously laughed. "For just... a moment I thought I'd never be anything but a teacup ever again. My life flashed before my eyes and... At least I don't have that." She leaned against Bell gently. "Is this one of those... rough prisons? How scared should I be, because I'm pretty terrified right now."

Bell swished her tail, brushing up against Long. "The food's blah, but if you don't break the rules, it ain't all bad." She leaned back against Long. "At least we have company, right? So what job were you doing, you know, when it went bad?"

Long sighed slowly. "I should have run away... I'd rather be telling stories than breaking laws anyway..."

"Long ones?" prompted Bell with a grin. "Hey, you don't need to tell me. You think I like being a thug? It pays the bills, but sucks outside that." She spread her wings wide with a languid stretch. "And now we get to wait for days to pass until we're let out. It's boring and long and we pay the price for being naughty with a bit of our life we never get back."

Long cringed, imagining days of sitting passively beside Bell. Not that Bell seemed to be a bad pony, but just that, for days, weeks, months... "Do I get a trial?"

"Mm?"

"A trial?" Long tilted her head. "To prove I'm guilty beyond a reasonable doubt and all that."

"What are you talking about?" Bell lifted her shoulders. "If they weren't sure you were being naughty, you wouldn't be here. You're here, so there's no point beating around the bush. They caught you, red-hoofed I bet."

Long imagined them opening the door to the magic-proofed room to find an out-of-place teacup that had once been a unicorn. It would have been pretty clear what happened. "Don't I get to plead my side of things?"

Bell smirked softly. "You're free to argue with the warden if you want, but he gets angry quick-like."

Long threw a hoof wide. "Do I at least get to know how long I'm in here for!?"

Bell set a hoof on Long's head, petting her soft silvery mane. "I'm sorry... You can ask about that. I'll show you where, when they let us out for yard time."

Long smiled a little. "I'm glad you're here, at least. Let's... be friends, alright? We'll watch each other's back."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Bell nodded. "Even if I'm not sure how good you are at that, since this is your first time. I won't leave you flapping in the wind though, promise." She curled a wing, wrapping Long in it. "We're in this together, all literal like."

Author's Note

It's all going according to... plan? Long ends up where she didn't want to be. What went wrong?!

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

25 - Doing Time

Long and Bell stood side by side. Long had been confused that they allowed them to remain close together while working. "Aren't they afraid of gangs and things?"

Bell shrugged softly. "Couldn't say. You know how to use this thing?" She pointed with a wing as the great machine whose belt they were stationed beside. "'Cause it's time to start work."

With a great whistle, the belt lurched forward. A soft thump announced the arrival of the first project. It was a perfectly rectangular thing, all white and mysterious as it descended at the other end of the line. As it reached the first prisoner, they grabbed a bottle in their mouth and began spraying it with some brightly colored blue stuff.

The next pony took a bottle with their wing and added to the pattern with pinks.

"Look ahead," whispered Bell urgently.

Long's eyes snapped ahead and saw a dangling piece of paper across from her. It showed a specific pattern and a long streak of color at the bottom told her what color it was to be in. She looked around in a moment of panic before finding a row of the color bottles. She willed the correct one into the air just in time for the rectangle to reach her.

It was no mysterious object. It was a cake, she realized. It was a cake and she had to decorate it. They were using their prison labor to decorate cakes. It was such a pony answer to a problem that she felt stunned. Her old human sensibilities just refused to reconcile the difference and she laughed. She laughed without control and the cake slid right on past her, undecorated.

A hoof came down on her shoulder, her laughter dying instantly. "What's so funny?" barked the jail master, giving her a bit of a shove, enough to make her stagger. "You missed it. That's your only freebie. Get the next one."

"Y-Yes, sir." Trixie's ears sagged with defeat as she looked up to see the next pattern and color. She grabbed for the bottle and turned it partially into position. "Ready..." When the next one arrived, this one round and two-layered, she got right to work, painting it as the hanging paper specified. "Ta da!"

Part of her wanted to just magic the problem away, but the floating bit of magic around her horn that was not her color forbade anything more advanced than lifting and basic telekinesis. She would not magically paint the cakes, nor would she teleport out of jail, as lovely an idea as that was.

"Make sure she keeps going," warned the jail warden toward Bell. "I know you two are friends. If she slacks, you pay too."

Bell sagged with defeat. "Ugh, sure thing, Boss. You heard the stallion, keep it up!"

A new bell sounded before the belt shuddered. A massive five layer cake thumped down onto it and the prisoners scrambled, many having to get onto provided little step ladders to do their part of the cake as it slid past them. There they were, grizzled prisoners, many with interesting scars and the men, er, stallions, all sporting beards of various ill-repute, consigned to paint pretty pictures on cakes.

Bell had an obvious advantage, flapping up into position to do her part without any other assistance required. She had to carry the bottle in her mouth, but had her part done in short order. When the cake slid towards Long, she swooped in and grabbed the startled-looking unicorn, lifting her up so she could see her portion.

"On it!" She grabbed the color with her magic and got to quickly adding her piece of the overall work. "I never imagined this would be what I'd be doing..."

"Yeah, crazy huh?" Bell set Long down gently and returned to her station.

With the flow of work down, they set to it without further issues. They finished their shift with colorful little streaks as battle wounds, tired but victorious with many cakes ready to go out to ponies who hadn't committed various crimes against the natural order of ponykind.

Bell nudged Long with a wingtip. "C'mon, let's--"

"--Get you two dressed," cut in a female prison guard, a brow already arched. "You know the drill. Nice to see you again, Tailslide."

Bell's ears fell with a weary sigh. "Yes'm."

The guard looked to Long appraisingly from behind her sharp black glasses. "And you're a new face, but not unknown. Thought you could rob a bank? Ambitious." She grabbed a nightstick but only used it to point the way. "C'mon." She led the way at an easy walk, not seeming very afraid of the new convicts behind her. "We run a tight ship her, but a good one. You follow the rules, we won't have a problem."

A thousand movies about jails played through Long's mind. The fact that many were lost to the haze of her memory only made it worse as she patched the holes with horrors. "I... yes... ma'am?" She smiled nervously. "I've... never been in jail before."

The guard looked over her shoulder at Long, brow visible over her glasses. "That so? Let's make this your last time." She turned back ahead. "Not often we have to throw an inmate to the magicians before she's put in her cell..." She raised a hoof as she walked.

Long colored at that, wondering what she looked like when she first arrived. "It wasn't too... hard to fix, I hope?"

"Thank you for your concern," she said with sarcasm dripping, her tail giving a good flick. "They didn't complain more than usual, but that doesn't say much." She pointed through a doorway. "Get them suited up," she barked through the door.

"Got it," came a male reply. Inside the room were racks on racks of orange clothing and a smiling stallion with glasses and a horn. "Don't you girls worry. I'll have you both in fashion in no time at all."

"Hey Dress Code," sighed out Bell with a little smirk.

"Little Bell! Welcome back! What'd you do this time?" He waved them both inside as the other prison mare took her leave. "I remember your size... let's see." He turned, horn glowing as he plucked a suit off the many racks and floated it over to her. "Go on, try it on."

Bell took it on an agile wing and started towards a fitting room. "Nice to see you too. Anything change since last time?"

"The newest thing is right in front of me." He was looking at Long, appraising her intensely through his thick glasses. "You don't belong here."

Long blinked with surprise. "I was just brought here?" She pointed in the direction the prisonmare had gone.

"No, I mean, your eyes." He reached for her, placing a hoof on either side of her face without so much as asking. "You don't belong here."

Long drew back away from the touches. "I did... I did the crime." She sagged with renewed defeat. "I belong here..."

He smiled suddenly. "Maybe now, but not again." He put a hoof on her chest. "Promise me never again."

Bell poked her snout free of the dressing room. "Are you harassing her?"

He waved a hoof at Bell. "I'm just telling her to not come back in here. She deserves better, I can see it! I have an eye for these things."

Long cleared her throat, raising a hoof to brush his away and get it in front of her mouth all at once. "I'll... try not to... I... owed a pony."

Dress Code shook his head. "Well it's gone now. Unless whoever that pony is walks in and gets you out, you've paid your part, I say." He flashed a sudden smile. "Now, what kind of dress should I get this darling little magic mare in front of me, mmm." He snatched a dress that looked like all the other, a bright orange overall, and floated it over to Long. "Try it on!"

Long accepted the clothing in her own magic, feeling numb. Was her contract broken? How would she know? She thought of the idea of simply walking away from the don. It... didn't seem as alien an idea as it had before. She had to talk to him. She felt certain she had to tell him. She frowned at the idea. Talking to him was a terrible idea, even without the magical bond that had been placed on her. Even if she were a regular pony, just walking up to a Don and telling him off seemed like an awful idea...

She would just not go back. She could write him a letter, her resignation. The tension inside of her seemed to break. A letter, yes, that would be good enough. She would tell him clearly, but not in person.

"Breathe," softly spoke Dress Code, a soft smile on his face. "You look like you're wrestling a demon, on the inside. I've seen that before."

Long blinked, focusing back on the world around her. "That isn't... Oh." She saw Bell had emerged and moved to take her place in the dressing room. "I should get changed." She closed the door and got to dressing herself in the orange symbol of her crimes.

Bell glanced after Long before looking to Dress pointedly. "Stop bothering her. She's in a tough spot."

He smiled gently. "I'm not a threat to her, but if you can protect her, good." He lifted his shoulders. "You'll be better with her. Maybe you'll stop coming here."

Bell blinked softly. "What? Look... I don't have a lot of other ways."

He pointed to the changing room. "There's one. Try it?"

"I don't swing that way!" defended Bell, turning red across her face, her wings spread wide in her emotional flare.

Dress Code rolled his eyes. "I don't mean it that way. You don't have to keep coming here." He stood up and approached the stall. "Does it fit?"

The door opened, glowing dimly with Long's restrained magic. "It's not... Great and Powerful, but it fits." She looked back over herself, her pelt largely concealed by the flowing orange. Her cutie mark was stenciled on the rump, she noted. "How did you know what my mark would be in time to have it there?"

"That's why they pay me," he sang out with a happy smile. "Now, take care of it please, but if it gets a hole, you come right back here and I'll patch it up in no time, alright?"

Long nodded at him. "Thanks..." She wasn't entirely sure how thankful she was. She looked to Bell with a smile that was more genuine. "Let's go find out how long I'm here."

"Yeah, that sounds good." She turned to lead the way. "We're off until dinner anyway. If we're going there, may as well find out my time."

Long strode alongside Bell, an ear quirked at her as her eyes darted to every pony that came near them. While she knew Bell, all the others were potential dangers. They looked dangerous in her eyes, as unfair as that guess might have been. She shied away from them, cringing when they came too close. "Um, I mean, don't you want to know how long you're stuck here?"

"Does knowing get you out faster?" she countered with a little snort. "I never had something I had to rush to before..."

"You do now?"

Suddenly a wing folded over Long, drawing her closer. "If we get out around the same time, wanna run away together, you know, away from all this? No more crime for either of us. Don can run his own empire?"

Long was stunned, walking silently as she tried to parse her new options and the proposal being put toward her.

"Nevermind," suddenly Bell aborted, drawing her wing back against herself tightly. "It was a stupid idea..." She huffed as she accelerated. "This ain't no foal's book with no happy ending."

Author's Note

Welcome to jail! We have fun here. Or else.

Pony jail is not like human jail in several broad and kinda pivotal ways.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

26 - Office

The two of them arrived at a metal door with a handle. A brass plate beside the door announced that it was 'Records and Administration'.

Long reached out with her magic, though she couldn't reach as far as she usually could. The handle jiggled a bit, but did not open, locked.

"Who's there?" called a female voice from inside.

Bell called out over Long, "Just two connies looking to see what their rap sheet looks like."

A loud buzzer rang out from above the door. Bell slapped the door's handle with a sudden wing. "They don't hold that down long."

Long got the idea and grabbed the depressed handle, pulling it open so they could step inside what looked like a reception office. A secretary mare typed busily on a typewriter that only had two keys. That mare looked between the two of them, her own wings fidgeting. "Miss Tailslide, Miss... Story was it?"

Long nodded softly. "Long Story, yes. Nice to meet you...?"

"Records are over there." The secretary pointed one of her wings towards a door tucked in a corner. "Please don't harass the record keepers."

"I'll try not to." Long advanced on the door, Bell just behind. "See you later?" A peek revealed the secretary was already not paying any attention. She willed the second door open without a problem, revealing a room that was filled with enough books to keep Twilight happy for a while, though Bell imagined they had more statistics and such and less scholarly details.

"Heya!" chimed a little stallion. He was a small one, adult, but small. "Looking for something?" he asked with a smile on his round face.

"Hey," greeted Bell as she stepped inside. "No Fuss is still living up to her name. How's it hanging, Clean Book?" She gestured with a wingflick towards Long who was looking around and being overwhelmed by the number of books. "This is Long Story. How long is she in for?"

Clean hopped up onto a table, knocking a few piece of paper free in the process. "No complaints. What'd you do this time? I don't even get it with you. You're always so nice in here, but you go back out there, and then you end up back in here." He shook his head at Bell. His little nub of a horn glowed as he grabbed two books from a shelf above him and floated them down.

Long's attention snapped to the moving books, then the pony that was moving them. "Oh! Sorry, nice to meet you." She waggled a hoof at Clean. "Need any help?"

"Nah, I got this." He slapped down the first book and had it open, flipping through it with his magic. "Long, Long, here we go." He brought down a hoof, holding the book open to the right page. "Huh, says you're in for trespassing."

Long blinked. Not for...? "Does it say anything else?"

"They caught you where you shouldn't be, but you hadn't done anything or hurt anypony." He trailed his hoof along the words. "Worst they could string you up for was trespassing. You have nothing else on your record, so they charged it as a mere infraction." He looked up at Long. "You just have to pay your fine, with work or bits, and you're out."

Long's bottom crashed as she flopped to her haunches. "You're kidding..."

Bell dared to have hope, a cautious smile spreading on her face. "So, hey, what am I in for?"

Clean tilted his head. "Two of you and you don't even know why you're here?" He set down the second book. "I figured you'd just be asking how long you were in for." He flipped open with ease, as if he had looked up Bell's page before. "Says here you're in for speeding. In for a week, then remedial flight instruction." He tilted his head the other way. "They threw the book at you for a traffic violation. Must have been your record."

Bell laughed nervously, not bringing up why she had been speeding at that moment. "Y-yeah... I should be more careful... A week, huh? Well... that's almost over, right?"

End floated the books back up where they had come from. "Just about. Can I help you ladies with anything else?"

Long raised a trembling hoof. "Where are my things? What I had in my pocket, I mean."

"Oh, they put those in storage. Why?" turned away from the safely tucked books to face them properly.

Bell caught where Long was going. "She probably has the bits to pay her fine just waiting for her to do that with."

"Oh! Well, that's convenient. I'll put in the request for you. For now, you two should get out of here before No Fuss raises one." He waved at them as they departed, going back to whatever record ponies did when nopony else was around.

The two mares emerged from the office, both stunned in subtly different ways. Long let out a little laugh, flopping against Bell. "Well... That was... good news, right?"

Bell slapped a wing down on Long's back. "Thanks for dragging me down here. There I was, thinking I'd be spending months, maybe... years..." She turned her ears back on her head, shrinking a little. "This life is the pits."

Long smiled a little, a thin expression. "Well, when I get out of here, I want to tell stories."

"Stories?" Bell began to lead the way towards the mess hall. "What kind of stories?"

"Mostly made up ones." Long smiled as she went, walking in Bell's shadow. "With adventure and excitement and happy endings... Struggle and trials, you know, that sort of thing... I like telling stories a lot more than... this..." She waved weakly at the jail as a whole. "Or ever seeing Keyworks again."

"Are you any good at it?" Her eyes remained forward, not looking at Long as she walked.

Long thought back to the competition with Trixie. Though she had failed spectacularly at being Trixie... "I really had fun," she breathed out, smiling with the warm memory. "I wouldn't mind that as a job." The dim memories of her old life poked at her. What had she been? Something boring... It had been not unsimilar to the drudgery of painting all the cakes.

Bell smirked a little, daring with her buoyed spirits. "Do storytellers need any, you know, assistants?" She lifted a hoof. "Someone to carry the stage props and keep rowdy ponies off their tail?"

Long smiled brightly. "I don't have a Great and Mysterious wagon just yet... A helpful hoof, and maybe a wing, would be... nice." Part of her wondered if she was moving quickly. She had only met Bell recently, but she had been nothing but kind, and was trapped just as she was. If she could help pull another pony away from that world, why shouldn't she? "It'll be tough, to start... I didn't bring... all my bits with me, and going back for the rest sounds like a bad idea..."

"So we'll eat instant noodles for a while," scoffed Bell. "We'll work hard, you know, together, and work up from there, right?" She leaned in. "But we won't do it alone."

Not doing it alone was a deep temptation. Long wanted a friend she could keep. Vinyl had a husband and a life. She couldn't just crash in on her and ruin what she'd built like that. Rags lifted in her memories and she began to blush, thinking of the stallion. What about him?

He was in deep... And he wasn't there. She couldn't ask him, and even getting close enough to try would mean going back in the don's territory... Her chest hurt and she raised a hoof to it as she took a purposefully deep breath, trying to dispel the tension that ached in her. No, Rags could not be considered an option... "Let's get out of here."

"We're getting dinner." Bell gestured with a toss of her head at the cafeteria they were reaching.

"No, I mean here here. Let's get out, then we'll figure out our next step, alright?"

"Our next step," Bell echoed, looking pleased with herself. "Yeah. We'll do that. Grab us some food and I'll get us a seat."

Soon they were seated at a simple metal table. Other ponies were seated on the same benches on either side of them, most stuffing their faces with the mashed potatoes and corn being offered. There was a bushel of wheat propped up with it, but it seemed many of the other inmates were skipping it.

Long didn't understand why. She leaned in and sniffed at it. Its aroma seemed pleasing enough to her equine senses. With an extension of a strong tongue, she pulled it into her mouth and chewed on the wheat, grinding it in her chompers slowly and contently.

Bell snorted softly with restrained laughter. "Nopony eats that. What do they think we are, giving us uncooked wheat like that. Do you like it raw?" She lowered her face and started chomping the not-wheat portions of her meal, her snout becoming messy with bits of mashed potato and flecks of corn. "Mmm."

Long couldn't answer at first. Chewing up raw wheat took a moment. While she worked on it, her eyes wandered, taking in the population that surrounded her. The jail was co-ed, with mares and stallions scattered about. Was that how they used to do things? No. Despite the fog of her memories, the linking of jail to horrifying gay rape somehow managed to be intact.

Not that she could... oh, no. She could still be abused that way. Being a mare was not protection against it. She shuddered softly and glanced aside at Bell. At least that mare appeared to have no interest in that. Hay, she wanted to be an assistant storyteller. That was a much nicer thought than worrying about dropping the soap at the wrong time.

With a great swallow, the wheat vanished down her throat. "It doesn't taste bad, just needs a lot of chewing," she finally answered Bell before willing a serving of the softer food to float up to her, chomping into it far more easily. There were little seats in the mashed stuff and they had another flavor when she bit into them, not a bad one. Ponies seemed to like adding seeds to anything in which it was practical to do so.

Bell shrugged softly. "If you're tough enough for it, I won't let myself be shown up." She grabbed the bushel of grains in her wing and stuffed it in her mouth, chewing noisily.

Another pony peered at Bell before looking back at her wheat, though another stallion beside her beat her to chomping his. They had started a trend, wheat bushels vanishing off the plates of most of the prisoners, no one wanting to be the one that was too soft to go ahead and eat theirs.

Long decided to accept that as a good sign. If they could start trends outside of jail as easily, maybe becoming a storyteller would be more than a fancy. "Oh, I do magic."

Bell rolled her eyes mightily. "Tell me something I don't know, magic pony."

Long tensed. Magic pony. That is what she wanted to be, right? "I just mean I'll be using magic, in the shows, to make the stories more interesting. Nothing like a few special effects to really bring a tale to life."

Bell shook her head as she grabbed a napkin with a wing and cleaned herself of her food. "I can't help with that, but I can get all yer stuff in place. No more, uh, teleporting."

Long snorted softly. No more big teleports with lots of stuff... but maybe a little teleport here and there... She was a magical pony, so she had to magic. It was in her blood. With a growing smile, she polished off her dinner. She just had to get her things back and check out of this... unsightly hotel.

Author's Note

Plans for the future begin to come together for Tri--Long Story.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

27 - Checkout

Long sat before a long table. Across it sat a mare with a police cap on and a nightstick attached to her side. The policemare nodded softly. "So, you want your stuff, eh?"

"That would be nice, um, sir?" Long wasn't entirely sure how to address her.

"Gonna pay your fee and stroll out of here, hmm?"

"Yes, sir?" Long wished she would prompt one way or the other if she was doing it right. "Is there--"

"You looked mighty guilty." She leaned forward. "When ponies asked about what you were doing in the middle of a bank, say, robbing the place."

Long flinched back. "Wouldn't anyone?! I mean, I must have looked... stupid."

"Won't argue that." She set down a piece of paper suddenly with a thonk of her hoof against the table. "Do you know what this is?"

Long leaned forward to look at it. It was covered in Equestrian writing. Some distant part of herself said it looked odd, but she knew what it meant. It appeared to be a testimony, but it was pulled away before she got very far in reading it.

"The person who first ran into you wrote the first part. Imagine their surprise, just coming out of an office, and there's a pony strolling down the hallway as if they had somewhere to be, but they weren't any employee they knew. When they called out to her, she vanished."

"That isn't true," argued Long with a frown. "He said hello, or asked who I was, I forget, but it was innocent enough, but some other pony I couldn't see told him to grab me! What's a mare supposed to do when they hear someone planning to grab her? Of course I teleported!"

"When they found you," she pushed on as if no argument was offered. "--you were a fine decorative teapot. They almost didn't recognize you were a pony." She pressed her forehooves together. "What did you try to do that ended up with that result? Come clean and it'll go easy."

Long wobbled a hoof towards the door she had come through. "I was taught a spell to use if ever I thought I was being foalnapped, and I thought I was! Some strange stallion had just ordered someone to grab me, what else would I be thinking? I zapped the door and, poof!" She released a sparkle of magic from her stifled horn. "Teapot... Then I was here... May I have my things?"

It was a lie, naked and bald, but told with the energy of any other story she had told. What was a story if not a lie that sounded nice to hear? The policemare nodded softly. "The other half is a concerned letter." She tapped at it lightly. "From someone who ain't even involved any. Seems you've made friends with a local performer. DJ-Pon3. That leaves me with one final question."

Long tensed faintly, fearing what it could be. "Yes?"

"Can you get me a signature?" The policemare grinned. "My foal would be beside her little self if I got her DJ-Pon3's hoofprint."

Long emerged a moment later, with her things tucked away in her pocket, minus the bits needed to pay her trespassing fine. She fought the law, and was victorious. She couldn't help the smile that was stuck on her face as she cantered, a walking style she hadn't even really practiced much, towards the exit at the end of the hallway. She was getting out!

The air of Manehattan never smelt so... alright, it still smelled like a city, but it wasn't the inside of a prison. Long hurried down the steps from the jail, a giggle emerging from deep within her. She had somehow escaped years of imprisonment. She was free. Free!

... Or was she? She came to a halt suddenly. No, she still had some business to deal with. She had to tell Don of her decision, either in person, or a letter, or a phone call, or something... She didn't look forward to facing him in person and shook her head at the thought. Part of her was terrified that if she did ask in person, he'd just talk over her and get her back to work as if she hadn't said anything, and she'd go along with it.

Another considerable slice worried he'd exact more direct means of revenge for her failure and lack of loyalty. It wasn't like he didn't have ponies who would do what he said. No! "Write a letter," she muttered to herself, looking around. "Now where do they keep post offices around here?"

As she walked along the sidewalk, matching the pace of the existing traffic, it hit her. She had no home. She couldn't go back to her soft apartment. She had bits, at least. Not a ton, but not a paltry amount either. She would... have to use it judiciously to start a new life.

There it was. She veered out of traffic, approaching the building that had a big picture of a letter on it. At least pony signs tended to be obvious. Inside she saw a line of ponies waiting to get to the counter. There was also a stack of paper, and a quill! How useful! Why didn't hu... Her old place. She remembered them not having such things. She grabbed a sheet of paper and a quill in her magic and got to writing.

Hello Don Keyworks,

While I appreciate the opportunities you have given me, I must set off on my own four hooves. This is my letter of resignation. I will not speak of what I have seen or done, since I assume the NDA is still in effect and I will honor it. Best of luck to you and yours.

Signed,

She started signing it strangely. That was not how one spelled Long. That wasn't even Equestrian. She aborted rapidly and glared at the alien letters. What were... oh... That had been her old name, but she had stopped herself, and it was already gone. She'd never remember that.

With a soft sigh, she wrote out her proper pony name with a little flourish. She folded it into threes, tucked it in an envelope that was also provided. With a lick, she had it sealed and ready to go. She addressed where it was going, but put no coming-from on it. Not like she had an address to put there anyway.

A short wait in the line later, she ambled up to the counter and set down the envelope. "I used your paper and envelope." She assumed she would be paying for that too.

"That's what they're there for," informed the postal stallion with a little shrug. He gestured at the letter. "No stamp, just one bit and we'll fix that."

Only one bit? A bargain! She willed a single bit to float up out of her pocket and over to the stallion. He accepted it with a smile and slapped down a stamp onto the envelope. "Don't you worry, we'll get it where it needs to be." He slid it right off the counter into a basket of similar letters and packages. "Being local, expect it to be there in just a day. Anything else I can help with, ma'am?"

"N-no..." Her eyes were fixed on the letter. As some other pony, a pegasus, grabbed it and flew off with it, she could feel a weight being lifted from her back. She was free... Free to be... whatever she was. "Thank you," she said in a small voice, turning and walking away a bit more stiffly than she had planned.

"Next!"

Long emerged onto the street, taking a slow breath as she did so. She had broken out of not one, but two jails that day. She was free of the shackles of her old life... again, come to think. She had broken out of one other before she was a magic pony, right? She ambled down the sidewalk, her eyes roaming over the storefronts as she went. She saw ponies enjoying themselves at dinner. She saw ponies trying on clothes that ranged from tasteful to outrageous. She saw ponies dancing and enjoying life.

She stopped. She was in front of another clothing store. There were darling dresses and handsome tuxedos, but she wasn't looking at those. A ponyquin had a familiar hat on it. It was so familiar she couldn't shake it. It wasn't Trixie's hat, she wouldn't dare consider such a hat.

It was a wool beanie, grey in color, and it called to her. She had one of those, a long long time ago. She used to wear it all the time. She reared up and put her hooves on the window, staring at the beanie intently. She wanted it... needed it. For all that had changed in her life up until that point... She fell down to all fours and trotted inside. "Excuse me, how much is that beanie?"

As it turned out, pony beanies had slits for perky pony ears to poke right through. Long regarded herself with it on, turning her head left and right.

"You have a refined look, ma'am, are you certain you don't want something more..."

"--No," cut off Long, shaking her head at the salesmare. "This is perfect." She raised a hoof to feel along the woolen texture. "It's... perfect." She had to blink away forming tears even as she smiled. "I'll take it, thank you."

It was a link to her past, a past she would never relive, but never entirely forget. It had shaped her, and was part of her. Despite it being just a hat, she felt remarkably less exposed with it on her head as she rejoined the foot-traffic. It was with some satisfaction that she noted beanies were not 'in fashion'. She had just about the only one. Good, it was her thing, and she was perfectly happy keeping it to herself.

She wandered into an apartment builder in a nicer part of town, far away from Don Keyworks. "Excuse me?" She didn't have an appointment, but she had a good feeling about how ponies operated. "I'd like to get a room?"

A middle-aged mare poked her head out of a room. "Mmm? You'll want to come in here, dear. I'm the superintendent and owner of the building, you see."

With a smile, Long joined the mare in her office. "I was hoping you'd be in. What are the rates?"

"I'm not trying to be rich," insisted the mare as she set down a piece of paper from her mouth to the desk and grabbed a quill up in her teeth. "Ten bits a week. Only 38 if you pay on the first of the month." She scribbled with the quill she held, her head sideways to get its tip in place. "What's your name, dear?"

"Long Story."

"I need something a bit more specific than that."

Long blinked before a little laugh escaped her. She would have to live with that joke forever. "That is my name, Long. Story." She floated some coins free and set them down beside the paper, ten bits. "Let me know when it's time to give up 38, alright?"

The mare turned the paper to face Long. "If you'll stamp here." She gestured to an ink pad.

Long wasn't sure what to do with it and the mare smiled. "Press your hoof against it, then just above where your name's written."

"Oh!" Long touched the pad, then pressed down firmly on the paper. There was a nice imprint of a horseshoe. The oddest part was that she wasn't wearing a horseshoe, and yet, a perfectly horseshoe imprint. "Huh..."

"Here's your key." She grabbed a key off the wall with a snatch of her teeth and tossed them to Long. "You're on the fourth floor. I trust that's alright?"

"Oh, sure." Long nodded softly. "I'll go settle in. Nice to meet you, Miss..."

"Missus Lord."

Long blinked. "First name Land?"

She flashed a smile. "Got it in one. Enjoy your room, and tell me if you need anything. The husband will probably be around within an hour or two to make sure everything's turned on."

Author's Note

Long Story is freeeeee! Wait, did she forget somepony? Well, forgive her, she just got out. Surely a little typo can be forgiven.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

28 - Money Back Guarantee

"Get a load of this," angrily fumed Keyworks as he slammed a letter down on the desk. "The nerve of that... nag!"

He had ripped into the letter the moment he saw who it was from, right in the middle of the casino floor, assuming it was good news. It hadn't been, not at all. It was only after his outburst that he looked around nervously. Straightening himself out, he raised his voice, "Long Story ain't part of this family no more. You see her, she's a rival member, kick her flank out of here."

With an angry snort, he stomped off, the letter abandoned in his storming off.

Most of the others resumed their playing without too much thought. Unless the boss told them to do something specific, a vague directive wasn't worth stopping what they were doing. For one, it was. Rags tried to walk up to the desk casually, as if he were just walking past it. He reached a hoof and snatched the letter as he went past with all the subtlety a pony of his size could manage.

He broke into a gallop, racing into the bathrooms and into a stall. He slammed the door shut and slid the lock closed before he dared to actually look at the letter and the envelope it had come in. The envelope had a stamp of the post office it had come from, a hint! He looked over the letter itself, a clear and simple resignation. It still smelled faintly of her.

He could find her.

But would she even want to see him? He let his hooves fall to the floor, the letter dropping limply to the tiles. She had run away from his life, run far away to better things. Where she didn't have to get hurt trying to steal from ponies. Where she didn't have to fight ponies ready to do terrible things to her.

He reached up and rubbed at where his titular rag ran into his fur. "She'll be happier..."

But what if he ran away too? But what could he do? He didn't know how not to be what he was. It just wasn't meant to be. He reached a hoof for the letter, carefully folding it along the lines it already had. "Spread you little wings, magic mare. Spread them wide and take to the sky." He tucked the note away, the envelope soon following.

A door slammed open, causing a griffon to look up from her typing. "Please keep the noise to a minimum," chastised Gudrun as the Don and a few flunkies filtered in. "Are you looking to order a new acquisition?"

The last one inside closed the door behind them as the Don marched towards the desk. "Get yer lousy boss out here. I have a complaint to file with her."

"Any complaints can be given to me," replied Gudrun as if bored rather than at all intimidated by the criminals in her office. "I will see that they are handled efficiently." Right into the garbage, most likely. That was the fastest way to deal with them.

"Nuh-uh, don't think so. My magic mare just quit on me!" He slammed a hoof down on Gudrun's desk.

She growled, beak snarling as she glared at Don Keyworks. "Do not touch my desk."

Even the Don backed up a step at her fierce look. "Look, you promised I wou--"

"--Get your desired pony," interrupted Gudrun. "You did, and I hope you enjoyed her. The agreement does not promise, nor entitle you, to recompense if they become hurt, killed, run away, or anything not inherent to the quality of their manufacture."

The door slammed open and Gudrun grunted with annoyance. "There is a handle on that thing. Kindly use it."

Starlight burst into the front reception area. "Stop right... there?" Her eyes darted from one thug to the next before finally resting on Gudrun. "I recognize you. Where's Fetlock? She has a lot to answer for."

Don shrugged his shoulders. "Get in line, I was here first. That stupid mare thinks she can sell me defective goods and get away with it?!"

Gudrun nodded. "Ah, what was your name again?"

"Me? Me?! You don't recognize me?!" He was gesturing at himself with both hooves while looking scandalized. "Tell her who I am."

One of the thugs coughed softly. "This here's Don Keyworks."

"Don. Keyworks," echoed Don firmly. "Remember that. That's an important name. Now you go back wherever she is and tell Fetlock she better get me a new magic pony and it better not be another Trixie."

Starlight frowned softly. "Wait, you ordered Trix, er, Long Story?"

Don looked over at Starlight. "What's it to you? Go sit on the chair and wait your turn." He waved idly at a sofa towards the window. "Fetlock has to--"

"--do nothing," interrupted Gudrun, flipping through a rolodex. "You paid exactly zero bits for your service. I am entitled to render a full refund." She reached down and pulled out a little bag that jingled. "Here you are."

Don blinked softly. He wasn't the sort to say no to free bits. "Well, that's a start..." He reached out and took the bag before tossing it to one of his flunkies. "Count it."

The bag was caught in teeth and set down. Curious hooves peeled it open and a grunt soon followed. "This ain't bits. Just rocks and screws."

Gudrun rolled a hand. "You have now received more money than Doctor Fetlock did from you. Thank you and have a nice day."

Don turned away with a growl. "Forget this. I'm going over your head. I'll see this place is torn apart. C'mon, fellas." He marched past Starlight towards the door. "Good luck, but I wouldn't expect much out of her." He grumbled the entire way out, his goons following after him loyally.

Starlight frowned at the lot of them, watching them go. That explained part of how Long behaved. "I believe it's my turn then?"

Gudrun resumed typing, working on whatever had her attention. "Do you desire a pony? Perhaps a doting stallion to see to all of your needs." She said it without a hint of romance.

Starlight blushed at that. "No! I mean, I know where they come from. You're taking humans and putting them in pony bodies. They're confused and lost and you force them into these... positions."

Gudrun arched a brow. "Only willing subjects not only are sought, but even can be taken with the Doctor's innovative techniques. If we ask for one that wishes to be your husband, we'll find one that has that desire."

"Stop it with the husband thing!" Starlight hopped in place. "I'm perfectly fine without one of those, thank you."

Gudrun stopped typing, her eyes on Starlight. "You're missing someone."

Starlight blinked at that, disarmed. "What? No. I have friends, family... I'm not missing anypony, thank you."

"But you still want someone. Don't feel guilty about it." She snorted softly. "Would you like an appointment with the doctor?"

Starlight blinked softly. "Actually, yes." That was a fine way to confront the doctor.

"A deposit is required." Gudrun pushed a tray forward. "Since this is just a consultation, ten bits please."

Starlight frowned a little at the tray and the griffon holding it. She had to pay to get at a baddy? Ugh... With a glowing horn, she set a few coins down in the waiting container. "Here," she annoyedly spat. "When do I get to see her?"

"Leave me your number and address and I will contact you." The typing resumed. "Before you ask, she isn't in the office today."

Starlight floated out a small scrap of paper and quickly jotted down the hotel she was staying at along with a number to the same hotel. "Here. Thanks."

"A pleasure," spoke Gudrun with not a hint of being pleased. "Have a nice day."

"Yes, hello?" Long was floating a phone receiver by her head. "I wanted to check if today's when Bell Tailslide is released?"

"Are you a relation?" asked the mare on the other end of the line.

"We were bunkmates, er, on the inside, and I promised her a place to stay. I just need to know when to be at the jail."

"Well, we're not supposed to do that..." She could hear papers being shuffled around. "Can I have your name?"

"Long. Story. I was let out a little while ago myself."

"Long Long Long... Here we are..." More papers were shuffled. "Hmm, alright. Be here at 3pm and be punctual, or you may miss her."

Long smiled brightly. "Thank you!"

"Keep her from coming back, please?" There was a click, and the line went dead. Long set the phone back in its receiver.

"What a curious thing to say..." Did they have that much faith she could help reform Bell? Well, maybe she did... She was going to offer an honest job, and a friend. She walked towards the elevator with a smile. A friend, one that'd be there, with her. A friend that wasn't busy living her own cluttered life. She giggled as she stepped onto the elevator. That sounded great, and a little scary.

She had already made a few bits. Sure, it wasn't as much as she made risking her life and freedom for the Don, but telling tales at the local park for whoever wandered past had been far less terrifying, and a bit more satisfying. Ponies were generous in their tipping, which was a distinct boon. She could make rent, she felt comfortable saying. If Bell could contribute towards getting more, they wouldn't be living too much on a razor's edge.

Long emerged from the building, already waving down a taxi. But what did Bell know how to do? She was a delivery mare. She usually moved packages between seedy people, for seedy purposes. Oh. Long giggled softly, imagining Bell in a mailmare's outfit. "Of course." She could do that, honestly. As she was ferried away toward the jail, her mind wandered, wondering if Bell would ever run into Derpy Hooves. What would they think of each other?

She arrived with plenty of time to spare, waving at the cab puller as he sped off. She parked herself on the front steps of the jail and considered what to do with the day. The sun was right above her, implying she had hours to waste. "Right." She took off her beanie and set it on the ground before clearing her throat. She didn't have to be idle, so she wasn't.

She began a story of a princess locked in a foreboding keep, who was rescued, not by a chivalrous knight or a mighty wizard, but another princess that had managed to slip free just a few days earlier. Of course, in her story, there were deadly traps and horrible monsters and other such things, but hey, stories were meant to be embellished and she wasn't even trying to pretend it was anything but a yarn told for amusement value.

"Nice take." Long looked up to see Bell peeking in her beanie and the bits that had been placed there. "Hey."

Long threw her hooves out wide. "Here she is, the princess!"

Bell swiftly colored. "I'm not any damn princess!" She picked up the beanie with an agile wing and casually plopped it on Long's head, bits slipping free in a jangle to the ground. "Still, uh, thanks for being here. I wasn't sure you would be..." She looked left and right. "Ain't normal I have someone waiting for me... So... uh... what now?"

With a glowing horn, Long gathered up the coins that had fallen free, tucking them away before starting to go for the ones still trapped between her head and the beanie. "Well, first I get my earnings, then we go get something to eat, to celebrate you getting out of that place and never going back ever again."

"And then?"

Long raised a brow at her nervous sounding friend. "And then, we go back to my place. I'm renting a new apartment and you are more than welcome there. When you're settled, if you want to move out, you can do that too, but for now, it's a launching place."

Bell leaned forward towards her new roomie. "Can we get some pasta?"

"With pleasure!" They walked off together, talking about their plans as they went.

Author's Note

Many threads are coming together, tying themselves in little packages. Are Long and Bell headed towards good things? Will Fetlock get what she deserves? What does she deserve, exactly? Will Gudrun ever give a damn?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

29 - Confrontation

Starlight jumped in place as her phone rang. She wasn't used to having a phone, and it hadn't rung before then. Of course, she was in a hotel, and there it was, ringing. She willed the receiver off the station and floated it over to herself quickly.

"Hello?" She heard something faint and realized she was holding it the wrong way. She grunted as she quickly flipped it around. "Hello?"

"Miss Glimmer?" asked a familiar female voice, stern, but not quite placed.

"This is she." Starlight peered at the receiver curiously. "Who is this?"

"I did tell you I'd call." It was the griffon, Gudrun. "Unfortunately, the doctor has declined your wish for an appointment."

Starlight hopped in place, shouting into her piece, "What do you mean?! This isn't optional! I'm com--"

"--We've already moved offices. Have a nice day." The line went dead.

Starlight saw nothing but red a moment, her magic hurling the receiver down with enough force to break it in half as she grunted with building annoyance. "What was I thinking?!"

That was when she saw what she had just done. "What was I thinking?" Her magic wrapped around the injured appliance and gently nudged it back together. With a flash, the broken pieces melded into one another in an almost-perfect repair. She quickly set the piece back on the base and sighed out softly. "That didn't work..."

She was back to square one, only knowing Fetlock was somewhere in Equestria, maybe in the city, maybe not. She had tried to find the victim, but she hadn't answered the door either of the times Starlight had gone by.

There was but one thread remaining. She hefted up the receiver with trepidation, slowly circling the dialer and waiting for it to click back into place. There was no hurrying it. Spin, click click click, spin, click click click click...

She heard a ring, and a second.

"Talk to me," spoke a female on the other end. "Wait, no, let me guess... Is this a gig looking for some star presence?"

Starlight smiled wryly. "Afraid not."

"Starlight! Almost as good. What's up?" asked Vinyl, her voice tinny but easily discerned the more she spoke.

"I lost the trail of Doctor Fetlock, if she even is a doctor. Do you know where Long Story is?"

"She's out," declared Vinyl, her smile audible across the line.

"Out of what?"

"You didn't know? Poor thing got tossed in the slammer."

Starlight's eyes widened. "What'd she do?!"

"They didn't tell me that part, just got word she was in there. I wrote a letter about what a good pony she was."

"Well, yeah..." Starlight rolled a hoof in the air. "She seems nice enough, but she was also pretty clearly in some dark stuff, which got her in jail."

"And that means we should abandon her? Nah, not my song. Anyway, it worked! They let her out."

Starlight placed a hoof to her face. "And she went right back to the trouble?"

"Nah."

"Nah?" Starlight peeked around her hoof, letting it fall away a few inches. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she has her own place. Her first big show's tomorrow. Wanna go together?"

Starlight sat up straight. "Oh, I mean... Yes... I think I would like that."

"Awesome, see you in the morrow!" The phone went dead

Starlight willed the receiver back where it belonged. "Huh..." At least that part had gone better than she had hoped.

"You look nervous." Bell reached with her wings, resting them on Long's shoulders. "It'll be fine. Everything's where it's supposed to be, promise."

Long smiled at her new partner. "What if I'm the one that messes up?"

"Not that I think you will, but even if you do, you'll play it off." She leaned in behind Long. "That's what you do, improvise and keep it interesting."

"Right!" Long smiled as she rose to her hooves. "Right, I have this." She reached up and rubbed at her beanie gently, its woolen presence another comfort. "I have this. Thank you, for helping, and being here."

"Hey, if you hadn't, where would I be? Running around doin' Keywork's busywork." She nudged Long forward with her wings. "Go on and git!"

Long cleared her throat and took two deep breaths before she stepped out behind the protective curtain of the stage. Suddenly she was in front of a crowd of eyes. "Hello, ponies and gentlecolts." She nodded towards them, bobbing as she tried to nod at each section of the crowd. "We're gathered here to tell a little story."

The lights dimmed without her having to ask for them to, Bell working behind the scenes to get things done as they had rehearsed. Long's smile grew in confidence. She wasn't alone. "It's a tale of a lost stallion from an exotic land." She reared up and threw her hooves wide. "But, be prepared, because this will be a Long, but interesting, Story."

Soft clops and stomps echoed through the crowd as she took a bow. The story began, while hers gently flipped to the next page.

When the lights were back, and most of the ponies had wandered away, Starlight advanced on the stage. She wasn't alone, Vinyl trotting alongside her. Starlight hopped up, looking at Long's bottom as Long was speaking to someone behind the curtain. "Nice show."

Long hopped in place and came down facing Starlight. "Oh! Hey. I didn't even know you were here." She quietly thanked the various powers that be that she didn't know. As if she needed more things to worry about on her first big performance. "Did you like it?"

"It was nice." Starlight gave a soft toss of her head. "It was similar to the one you did with Trixie, though the story was a bit different this time."

Long thrust a hoof at Starlight. "I don't read from a script. Half the fun is making it up, and reacting to people's responses, so each time is different." She leaned forward a little. "I also... just kinda hope maybe if someone like me hears it, they'll come say hi, you know?"

Starlight's smile was tainted with a sour note. "Yeah..."

Vinyl suddenly shoved in front. "Awesome show." She offered a hoof to have it met in a loud clop with Long. "Where's that partner of yours? Bell, right?"

"Someone call?" Bell leaned over the top of the stage, peeking at them all. "Oh, hey, I... know you?" She was squinting at Vinyl thoughtfully. "Don't tell me, gonna drive me crazy..."

Vinyl stuck out her tongue at Bell. "Thanks for assisting Long," she called up. "It's good to see she'd made a friend, or are you doing this fer the bits?"

"Well, yeah, I do like those," admitted Bell. "But she is a friend too. Why not both?" She fell off the edge of the roof and landed with a thump on all fours without harm. "You know Long?"

Starlight waved at Vinyl and herself. "We both know her." She glanced towards Long. "How much does she know?"

Long jerked, swallowing heavily. "So, hey, uh... Bell... What would you say if I said that story wasn't entirely made up?"

Bell wrinkled her nose a bit. "I'd say I wasn't stupid." She walked up past Starlight and Vinyl, reaching for Long. Though Long flinched back faintly, Bell still booped her on the nose. "Or maybe I'm bluffin'. Either way, hello, crazy other-world stallion thing."

Vinyl snorted. "You call me a stallion and we'll have words."

Bell's head snapped around. For as unsurprised as she acted to Long's reveal, she gaped at Vinyl. "Really?"

Starlight waved her forehooves wildly. "We're getting distracted from the point."

Long tilted her head. "There was a point?"

Starlight took a slow breath. "Fetlock got away, again. I thought I could succeed where Twilight failed, but I messed it up even more dumbly than she did." She pointed at Long. "You, at least, appear to be reformed."

Bell puffed out her chest. "What, I ain't reformed none?"

Long threw a leg around Bell, pulling her closer. "You're my favorite reformed mare."

Starlight looked between the two. "I don't... know you?"

Vinyl pointed at each of them. "They're partners in crime, but the crime in this case is telling stories for ponies that want to hear them, which isn't much of a crime, but it's what they have, right?"

Long bobbed her head. "Exactly. She worked for the don too, but she got away, like me." She pressed up against Bell. "Now we made a new life for ourselves."

Starlight's expression eased. "That's actually... kind of sweet. I mean, please, continue with that and don't let me get in the way." Her eyes darted around. "I just wish I could have gotten that Fetlock..." She cleared her throat softly. "But that's no reason to not be happy about tonight. You both did great, really."

Vinyl nudged Long gently. "What was your take?"

"Oh right!" She hurried away to find out in a scamper of hooves.

Starlight looked to Bell. "I know why she's here and what she's doing, but are you really, you know... into this?"

Bell lifted her shoulders. "I ain't promisin' I will be forever or nothin'. She's a good mare, and I can lend a hoof and, you know, save some bits, maybe try my own thin' eventually."

"About that!" called out Long as she returned in a shower of sparkles, a box floating beside her. "I had an idea that might work out well for you."

Bell blinked softly. "You're tryin' to get rid of me?"

"No! No no no!" She waved her hooves wildly, the box clomping to the ground in a heavy jingly thud. "You're welcome as long as you want, and I meant it when I said it. Still, I had an idea and forgot all about it. Post office!"

"Post office?" echoed all three of the other mares, peering at her with different flavors of confusion.

"You already know how to do deliveries, and you're good at it. You could work there whenever you wanted, and they'd be lucky to have you."

Vinyl snickered softly. "Oh, sure, yeah. You'd look cute in a postal uniform too."

Bell suddenly punched Vinyl right in the shoulder. "Shut up!" Her cheeks were burning red and Vinyl just laughed rather than being offended at the slug. "I mean, yeah, maybe..."

Starlight shook her head, turning for the exit of the small hall they were in, looking over the empty seats. "Well, things are in hoof for now. Uh, welcome to Equestria, and be good. I don't want to hear about you being in jail again, alright?"

Long waved at Starlight's retreating form before looking to her friends. "Oh, I didn't actually count." Her magic pulled over the box and popped it open, revealing a collection of bits and gems and even a few bills tucked away. "Not looking bad." She started counting methodically.

Vinyl nudged against Bell. "Hey, I wasn't trying to make fun, promise. If you want to be her assistant, or if you sling packages, either way's a fine way to go, so long as you're happy with it." She stood up with a grin. "Give me a call, Long, and don't be a stranger. It's nice to hear from a fellow once-humie."

Bell settled next to Long, watching the counting come to a sudden halt. "Something wrong?"

"Nope." She pushed a portion of the money aside. "That pays for the hall." She gestured at the still half-filled box. "This is what I get to keep."

Bell whistled. "I mean, that's a good amount of bits, but you're givin' up a fortune there." She eyed the portion that had been set aside. "Why ain't you just get your own hall or somethin'?"

"Maybe I will, someday." She closed the box and tucked it into her pocket carefully. "For now, I pay the rental fee, then we go and have a nice celebratory dinner."

"Now you're speakin' mah language over here!"

The two walked out of the hall side-by-side.

Author's Note

I feel... that was a good end. How do you feel? Endings make me nervous. How'd I do?!

Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

3 - Welcome to the Family

Trixie turned towards the sound of the door opening, her tail swaying without her knowing it until she felt it. It was, at the same instant, familiar and alien. "Say, where is Trixie's cape?" She raised a hoof to tap around her neck. "You said fully clothed, but that clearly isn't true."

Fetlock lifted her shoulders as she snatched a photo from Trixie's folder and brought it over to look at. "Ah, you are correct, Trixie. A subtle flaw, but it explains things. I wouldn't worry about it. The Great and Powerful Trixie has an employer to impress."

As if summoned by the words, a new pony strode into view, his cigar dangling from his lips. It wasn't lit, as if it was purely an accessory. His thick brow furrowed at the sight of Trixie. "Huh, you really can do it." He approached at a more brisk pace, picking up into a trot. "I happen to know the ot--"

Fetlock thrust forward a hoof. "Stop. It would be best to not bring up... others. This is the true Trixie Lulamoon."

Trixie nodded uncertainly before flashing a brilliant smile. "The Great and Powerful," she added helpfully. She stepped towards the gangster pony. "You appear to have something stuck behind your ear. Trixie will get it for you."

"What?" He reared back slightly with surprise, but Trixie marched right up and yanked a long string of colorful cloth from behind his ear, tickling it as it brushed past. "Ha! She can do magic, great!"

Trixie balled up the cloth, looking at it curiously. She wasn't sure how she had done that, but she had, and it felt great. She was a unicorn, a magic unicorn, just as promised by... someone. She frowned, trying to remember who had given her such a gift.

Fetlock stepped around Trixie, eyes on her would-be customer. "I trust you are satisfied? A few reminders, she will be slightly confused at first. Remind her what she is to do and she will come around."

"Yeah, yeah." He pointed up at himself. "I am Don. Don Keyworks." He nodded firmly at his newest acquisition. "You are my employee, Trixie."

Trixie visibly balked. She thought she would be doing some magical jobs for some random nice pony, not some literal don! "I--Trixie is a magician, not a common thug."

Don raised a bushy brow. "You're new, so I'll forgive that, this time. Ain't nothing we do that's common." He brushed some imagined dust off of his suit. "And we leave thuggery to brutes. No, I got my eyes set higher than that, miss."

"Are you satisfied?" repeated Fetlock, looking at Don intently.

"Yeah, yeah, give me time with my new mare." He threw a leg over Trixie's withers, pulling her towards the exit. "We have plenty to discuss."

Trixie tensed as she was pulled. His new mare? "Trixie is not... interested."

He barked out a laugh at that, an equine snort escaping with it. "It ain't like that. I got a marefriend, and she's a fine piece." He guided her down the narrow hallway towards the escape. "I want you for other things, big things! Great and Powerful things."

That got Trixie's attention, drawn to the promise of her title. "Trixie is listening..." She wondered what she had been drawn into. She was sure she agreed to the situation expecting something less crime-ridden, but she didn't want to stop being Trixie. Maybe it was just his daughter's birthday party?

He reached up with a hoof even as he leaned in, mouthing the knob. It opened to a brighter front of the warehouse. There was a griffon secretary tapping busily on a typewriter, and two thugs that were staring at the don and the new mare with him. They rose from seating as one. "Boss!"

Don waved them away with his free hoof, the other still holding Trixie. "Everything's copacetic, boys. Meet our new magical expert, Trixie Lulamoon."

Trixie advanced, escaping Don's hold as she threw her head back. "You can call me the Great and Powerful Trixie!" She reared up on two legs and felt a pang, throwing her off. Standing on two legs felt... normal. She... had done it many times. She shook off the feeling a moment to throw out her hooves wide, confetti and sparkles flying in both directions. "And she is in dire need of a new cape." She landed on all fours with a clop. "She trusts you will make this happen?" She was looking at the don.

Don set his hooves on the ground and began walking through the area for the door leading outside. "Yeah, yeah. We'll get you suited up." One of his ponies rushed up to open the door for him, so he could walk without even slowing down.

"Have a nice day," bid Gudrun without looking up from her work.

They emerged into the bright sunlight of Manehattan. The city was alive with bustling ponies, but not right there. They appeared to be in a run-down portion of town filled with warehouses and other big buildings. Noises of work came from them, but few ponies were wandering between them. The clip-clop of traffic could be heard in the distance, the entire city making a steady low sound of life.

"Want a bite?" Don gestured at a stand offering roast carrots. "I treat my boys right, and you're one of us now. Right, boys?"

"Yes, Don." They echoed in sync, walking in a flanking position around their don.

Trixie peered at the stand, nostalgia teasing her. She remembered... an episode with such a stand. Spike had received a roast carrot on a bun. A bird had stolen it. Poor Spike, he deserved better. No matter, that was her chance to try one. She giggled softly, looking forward to the snack. "Trixie gladly accepts."

"Good good." He advanced, pointing at the grilling veggies. "We'll take four of those, the works."

"No pickles," quickly added Trixie. Had Trixie ever mentioned not liking pickles? Oh, right. She was a person, with memories. She remembered not liking pickles. She thought back, trying to reach into her human memories. Ah, humanity; she was one of those, had two legs, fingers. She had a stupid job. She shook her head softly, much of it starting to rise in her mind. It was like a movie she had watched a thousand times. Yes, she remembered herself. It was comforting.

Then a grilled carrot was thrust at her, perched on a hoof. Trixie blinked, focusing on the present. She grabbed the snack and gently brushed away a few bits of dirt. Earth pony hooves were not sanitary, she decided. Regardless of that, she gave the snack a soft sniffing at, even as her eyes darted about for any hungry birds.

It smelled deeply of carrots, butter, some garlic and other spices she couldn't put a fin--hoof on. The bun was fresh, composed of... rye? She smelled seeds mixed in along with ketchup, mustard, and some relish. Enough smelling, she wanted a taste. She opened her mouth wide and took a big bite, chomping contently for a moment. The flavors dances across her tongue in a riot of new sensations and she gave an appreciative mmm as she processed it.

"Not bad," agreed the Don as he snarfed his down without delay. "Keep the change." He flipped a bit onto the cart and moved to walk past without looking back.

Trixie held her food in her magic as she hurried to catch up, sneaking another bite to let to flavor explode in her mouth. If pony food was that good at a food cart, she found herself looking forward to trying actual restaurant fare. But... "Say, Don, how much am I being paid?" She had forgotten to say 'Trixie', but it felt like not that big of a deal. The don knew who she was.

"Hm? Well, ain't you getting right down to the brass tacks." He turned to face her, giving her an intense look. "First I need to know how well you do what you do. We'll arrange a test, a little something..." He tapped at the pavement beneath him. "Tell ya what, ten bits, good or bad. That's worth the price of knowing where we stand, capiche?"

Trixie had no idea how far a bit went! The knowledge hadn't been imparted on her with her lovely blue form, nor did any human memory have any knowledge of bits besides knowing they were money for ponies. "I'll take that, this time, then we'll talk about rates after you're blown away by my ability." Did she have ability? It had come naturally to her so far, and she hoped it would continue to do so if she went with the flow.

She popped the last of her carrot treat into her snout and chomped it into a fine paste, mourning that it would be the last for a little while. She ran her tongue over her lips as if to rescue any bits that had escaped her. "Now then, where are we going?"

"We're getting a taxi." The Don's words were enough to send one of his minions advancing hurriedly to the next corner and sticking out a hoof. A pony pulling a cart painted in yellow with checkerboard design came to a stop. "And there it is. Everyone aboard," ordered Don Keyworks, hopping up first. Once everyone had settled in, he pointed forward. "West-side, fourth and Twentieth."

"You got it." The taxi-puller broke into an easy trot, unhindered by the weight of his passengers. They were quickly passing into more lively portions of the cities, with ponies on either side of the street, filling the sidewalk. Trixie noted that the majority of them were clothed, though still not all. Some were quite bare, even indecently so, in her human-tainted mind.

It was a curious thing, seeing things wagging about. Ponies just didn't care, and didn't lower their eyes to where they would be peering at such parts. They may as well not be there. Ponies faced ponies face-to-face, with all those bits behind behind them, out of sight and out of mind of the two holding a conversation. They weren't out of Trixie's sight, or mind. She shook her head violently. There she was, in Equestria, gawking at ponies like a dolt.

A familiar sight caught her attention suddenly. It was Rarity's Manehattan division! There were ponies coming and going from it with content smiles. He remembered that episode. Was spoon mare still working there? "Don? They'd have capes." She pointed at the store as it passed by.

Don cast his eyes to the right at it. "Yeah, sure, good as any other place." He held up his hoof and the taxi slowed to a stop. "Here ya go." He flipped a coin to the puller even as he stepped down. "Rarity For You? Never been. You guys?" He looked back at his minions stepping off the taxi.

"No boss," grunted one.

"Just once," admitted the second. "New place. I got something nice for my sis."

Trixie hopped down and staggered, her balance uncertain a moment before it came back to her. She still had to get used to hooves, even if her lovely body seemed to come with an auto-pilot of sorts. "I haven't been here, but I know the owner." She bobbed her head as she stepped closer to the store, a smile spreading. "It'll be nice to visit. I wonder if she's here."

"I won't say no to a little discount..." Don Keynotes advanced a little behind and to the right of Trixie. "We'll get you something nice, as a token of faith. You're family, for now. Maybe for life? We'll see, but I treat my mares right."

Trixie felt a shudder run down along her spine. She was not ready to be any pony's mare. She was a stall--man, not that long ago. She remembered what that was, and its identity had not fled her entirely. She was... She couldn't remember her old name still. But she was he. She remembered that.

Shaking herself into focus, Trixie opened the door with her magic, a honk sounding from above.

Author's Note

Welcome to Rarity For You! Our seamstresses don't leave any typos in the stitches so you can look your absolute best.

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!

17 - Scoping the Competition

Trixie was free! For the day... For more than a day, really, but not permanently. This reminded her even as she closed her fatter wallet that didn't hold all of her cash at once. "Today I ask."

She willed the button to the elevator to be pressed and tapped a hoof as she waited. The time made her reflect a little on how she ran into the Don in the first place, in some warehouse. She was surprised because something had just changed... What was it?

She frowned sharply, trying to remember what it was. What was she doing before the warehouse? Her rough trip and recovery had done nothing good for her memories. The elevator door opened with a chime and she stepped inside.

Soon she was on the casino level where the Don tended to be, along with all the others. She remembered being a new face, ignored or given the odd look, but that had changed. Working so hard you get thrown in a hospital, but still successful, did that, she supposed. They greeted her as she went past.

Rags was there, noticing her quickly. "Hey, aren't you off duty?"

Trixie waved a hoof at him. "So what if I am? This is a casino, is it not? Can't a pony be here on her day off?"

Rags chuckled at that. "I guess I can't say that ain't true. Have fun, huh?"

"Have you seen Don?" She looked around for his particular face.

"Just over there." He tossed his head.

She spotted him quickly and trotted off towards him. His mare wasn't around, which she figured would only help her cause. "Don? We need to talk."

Don turned his head away from the table he was seated at. "Trix! I didn't think I'd see you for a bit. What's on your pretty little head?"

Trixie held back her cringe. Some ponies she kinda liked being called pretty by. Don was not one of them. "This whole... thing. I'm glad I got the job done, and we all made a lot of bits, it's true, but this is not the life Trixie wants. She wants out."

Don hiked a brow. "Yeah? What do you plan to do?"

Trixie opened her mouth to fire a retort, but it fizzled and died. She could do her show! But her wagon was... not there. No, she never had a wagon. She clearly remembered having a wagon. She would pull it around. She never pulled it around. She had no wagon.

Don chuckled softly, easily seeing the confusion in her face. "You got a sweet gig right here. Take your break. The next one won't be so stressful, and nopony will be trying to hurt you, alright? Get out of here."

Trixie staggered away, her thoughts a confusing jumble. Before she even knew it, she was riding the elevator down to the street level. "I have a car!" she suddenly spouted as she stepped off the elevator. An image sprang to her mind of her old car. It was... not there. It was gone. It was gone like so many other things.

But she had no wagon. She never did. She could feel her mind finding balance around that concept. The only shows she had were as a storyteller, performing for the people of Manehattan. They seemed to like her tales. She smiled at the memory of them. She liked telling stories, wild and fanciful, with happy endings to uplift the ponies that listened to them.

"I wonder what he would think of them." He remembered an online friend, pondering what they would think of their shows. Memories oozed, broken pieces shuffling around. "I bet he would like them."

But he was an online friend. He was behind a screen, a world away. Trixie's steps slowed as she realized the error in her memories. Her old memories were so much dimmer than they had been. Who was she? The... real Trixie was ready to prove she wasn't Trixie.

Not-Trixie remembered clearly she was... not Trixie. Who was she? She liked being Trixie. Trixie was a comfortable name. She wore a nice hat, and a nice cape. She was used to being called Trixie.

She had to win.

She flagged down a passing taxi and hopped aboard. "Take me here." She floated the card in view of the earth pony, and she was spirited away through the city. They arrived at a small park that dimly registered a faint memory in Trixie. "Thank you," she bid as she hopped clear of the taxi and entered the park, her hooves squishing on the grassy ground instead of clopping on the cement.

It was a nice place, with flowers and paths and... Oh yes! It was the park they had done that play in that... show she once saw with the ponies. It looked neater than she remembered them getting it. Had they kept working on it after the show? That was nice of them. Trixie paused by a large flower and sniffed at it. Its aroma was delicate and sweet, bringing all the more of a smile to her face. "Trixie has good taste in battle arenas."

"Of course she does," came a familiar voice.

Not-Trixie jumped, coming down facing her twin. How could there even be two Trixies? Not-Trixie frowned, trying to remember how this had come to be. "Are you a changeling?"

Trixie scowled at Not-Trixie. "We were about to ask the same, imposter. I see you're here early. The competition isn't ready yet."

Not-Trixie tilted her head a little. "I suppose not... I just wanted to have a look. There's no law against that, right?"

"She supposes not." Trixie buffed a hoof against her front. "Look all you want. That stage will be where I show to the world how much more Trixie Trixie is."

Not-Trixie quirked a smile. Perhaps being threatened had pushed Trixie into her speech pattern extra. "You know, you were always a pony I liked."

Trixie blinked at that. "You like Trixie so much, you're copying her! That is a step too far!"

Not-Trixie sat down on her haunches, watching Trixie curiously. "They say the most sincere flattery is imitation." She leaned in a little. "I suppose that means I really like you."

Trixie went red, taking a few steps back. "You will not charm Trixie, even if you wisely wore one of the prettiest faces in Equestria to do it with. No! You are ruining Trixie's good name, so she will take it back. You will be laid low by her superior showmareship and have no choice but to admit that you are not Trixie."

Not-Trixie's mind went to dirty places, imagining a steamy fit of self-cest with the other Trixie. She went as red as the other Trixie, shaking her head furiously to shake off those thoughts. "I will not give up that name without a fight!" She rose up to all four, tossing her mane. "I've practiced my magic and I'm a showmare too."

"Trixie would hope that anypony with the nerve to call themselves Trixie would be one," scoffed the other Trixie. "You had better give at least a decent defense." She reached out and prodded Not-Trixie. "But Trixie will win, the real Trixie."

Not-Trixie looked past the other Trixie to the stage. "I want to see where we'll be competing." She walked past the other Trixie without being stopped. There was a short flight of stairs she ascended up onto the stage. It was made of wood, smooth and well-built. Craning her neck, she could see there were lights above, along with rods that other things could slide on.

She tapped her hooves as she walked, finding a trapdoor or two as she went along. What could go in those? Or maybe they came out?

"If you are a changeling, we appreciate that you're at least taking this challenge seriously." Trixie nodded softly, her eyes on Not-Trixie intently. "When you lose, do you have another name in mind?"

Not-Trixie winced at that. Did she have another name? One drifted in the murky depths of her memory, but it felt wrong even without her being able to get a grasp on it. It was a stallion's name. Where did she even get that name? "I'll just have to not lose."

"You're welcome to try." Trixie glanced off. "But bring another name."

"So you have one?" asked not-Trixie.

Trixie's brows shot up. "As if Trixie needs one. She will reign supreme." She raised a hoof in a slow arc over her head. "All the ponies that gather here will gasp and call out her name, praising Trixie for being Trixie, and laughing at the one that thought she was Trixie."

Not-Trixie glanced around suddenly. "There'll be a crowd?"

"Of course." Trixie scoffed at the idea. "As if Trixie would compete without a crowd. How ridiculous. She's already sold tickets. Expect this park to be overflowing with ponies to watch you fail."

Not-Trixie's teeth clenched at the thought of so many ponies she couldn't even really tell one from the next. Her shows had been for a dozen or so ponies, tops. That was... different. She had performed on the sidewalk. She had performed for sick ponies in a hospital. They hadn't paid to be there, they had chosen to sit and watch, or leave, but these were ponies that had paid, expecting a fine show.

They expected Trixie. Was she Trixie? What else was she?

Trixie smirked at the expression on her double's face. "Trixie is feeling magnanimous. When she finishes crushing you, she'll help you pick a better name." She turned away, rising up to two legs and letting out a triumphant laugh. "It's the least she can do for a pony who is clearly her fan, but not her equal."

Not-Trixie turned to face her gloating double. "I will... do my best. I've already jumped through smaller hoops on brighter fires."

Trixie perked an ear as she looked over her shoulder, her hooves at her hips. "What sort of 'hoop' were you jumping, Not-Trixie?"

Not-Trixie aborted the thought, mumbling softly. She couldn't go into detail about the crimes she'd performed... Still... "I recovered riches from some bad ponies, to be returned to the poor ponies they stole from. I teleported with this much." She spread her forehooves wide, balancing on her hind-legs. "It almost killed me, but I did it."

Trixie hiked a brow. "We were wondering how you managed to get those marks." Her voice wasn't entirely confident, her bravado dented at the idea of her double managing such a feat when she had not done such a thing. "But teleportation will not win you this show. You have to perform! Trixie is a showmare. This much is obvious to everypony. The better showmare will take the prize."

Not-Trixie fell back to all fours as she trotted for the stairs leading back to the grassy floor of the park. "I'll be there."

Trixie fell down as well, turning to smirk at her rival. "You know, Trixie already knows she will win, and it isn't just her confidence that tells her so."

"What else is it?" asked Not-Trixie, glancing towards the trail that led out of the park. She was ready to flee.

"You don't call yourself Trixie." Trixie grinned triumphantly. "Even the presence of the real Trixie is enough to drive the name from your lips. If you wish to concede, too bad. Trixie has already sold tickets. We will give them a show, even if it's just Trixie whipping the fight out of you."

Not-Trixie fled. She at least got out, "I'll be back!" But she wanted out of there, and her legs carried her out of the park without further delay, away from the double that would take away her precious name.

No. She was Trixie. She had to fight, and win.

Back in the park, Trixie strode for the stage with a smirk. "This will be almost too easy."

Author's Note

Trixie v Trixie. Can this end without tears?

Want this story updated faster? Want to get your own story written? Want to just support the author in his writing? Join the atreon!

Join my discord to chat!