The Joy of Laughter.
A healer of many ailments for the soul. Such has it been for equine, young and old, even long before anypony could remember. An infectious jolt that crumbles the seeds of illness and cleanses without bias.
It is also a weapon, this Joy of Laughter.
Normally, such a notion would be quite a stretch to imagine. How could something so wonderful, so natural, be used as a weapon? How could this, the Joy of Laughter, be used in any crass or dreadful way?
One could only marvel at the possibilities when Pinkamena Diane Pie was involved.
Some recognized her as Laughter incarnate, a creature who knew nothing of hatred or woe. Others could only describe her a mystery, a force of Nature given shape and unknowable sentience. Less charitable sorts thought her a nuisance, a repugnant ignoramus that escaped long-due retribution. Opinionated as her existence may have been, this bouncy pony, this bubbly bundle of love strode for one purpose. She would launch out of bed every morning with a single desire which ignited a flame that gravitated companionship wherever she'd trot.
That purpose was to bring the Joy of Laughter.
Ponies of all shapes, sizes, and ages; there was truly no limit to this benevolent goal. She would traverse any boundary, soar to any height, and step on any territory to fulfill this need. A lofty goal? Perhaps. But worth every iota of exhausted time when met with smiles and cheerful laughter. It was all the reward she could ever ask. This is what she lived for.
"I can't thank you enough, Pinkie Pie! I had no idea you were so good with kids."
The irony of Cheerilee's statement caused a subtle hitch in Pinkie's infamous bounce, but happily obliged the young teacher's gratitude. "Its a work in progress! I'm so happy you picked me, of all ponies, to host this years field trip!" she beamed.
"But of course, Pinkie Pie! I couldn't have asked for a better guide! If it were anypony else I'd be green with Envy, but... Oh, thank you so much! Its wonderful to see the kids like this," Cheerilee said.
Sweet nectar is what it was.
Cheerilee's face-splitting smile overjoyed Pinkie Pie all the more. Her body quivered as infectious energy vibrated from adoring fillies and colts that bounced beside her, giggling and squealing with delight.
"Come on, everypony! First one back to Ponyville gets a smoothie~!"
Pinkie Pie's sing-song proposal elicited shilled gasps from the young lot. With natural spry and charisma, she had single-hoofedly become the class's most cherished mare in all existence. The delighted little ponies practically stampeded toward the direction of Ponyville, prompting a hasty pursuit of a most grateful teacher. It was all so ingenious. All Pinkie had to do was dart passed everypony, beat them to the smoothie shack, and when they least expected it, 'BAM!', she'd buy each of them smoothies, satisfying, not one, but all of the little fillies and colts! It was the perfect plan! Foolproof!
But having been proven throughout the ages, whether anypony would accept it or not, even the best laid plans fell prey to Attention Deficit Disorder, which-sadly-applied to Pinkie Pie.
A lot.
Wheel tracks? How long have those been there? Where are they leading? Who could have made them?
The final thought provoked a long and screeching gasp from Pinkie. What if the pony who made these tracks was a pony she didn't know? What if this pony was a weary traveler down on his/her luck and was in dire need of a friend? What this pony had no friends?! Perish the thought!
A colorful montage of tragic thoughts plundered Pinkie Pie of her bubbly state of mind. The very fathom of somepony in the wilderness, all alone and scared with nopony else to laugh with or even talk to, incited a deep-seated sense of duty. For nopony would be a friendless hermit as long as Pinkamena Diane Pie was on the case! With new adventure looming over the horizon, she threw caution to the wind and bounced along the wheel tracks, fondly giggling about how happy she would make the pony she'd never met.
So long as there were new friends to make, Pinkie Pie was never without energy, never without love or the need to share it. And it so happened that there was a pony in dire need of that!
Oh, the possibilities!
She would perform her standard 'become instant best friends' regiment with pride and cheer. She would learn everything about this sad, lonely pony! They would forge a bond tempered by the very magic of Friendship, and another soul would be salvaged by Pinkie's greatest weapon: Laughter! Jitters of excitement nearly crumbled her into another fit of giggles. With what little composure she'd retained, Pinkie Pie continued along the wheel trail with that healthy bounce of her's.
Suddenly, her heart became a quibbling mass of thumps and shudders. Her predatory instinct (what little a pony could possess) kicked in, and she deemed it imperative to conceal her presence behind a hefty stone. Contrary to unanimous belief and first-hoof experience, Pinkie Pie wasn't always guilty of scaring ponies clean out of their skeletal structure with sudden phases into existence and friendly greetings. In fact, that exact moment was a perfect example of the contrary. Pinkie mentally collected the scene by pieces, putting them in their proper place as she observed the puzzle before her.
Quick inspection depicted that the pony responsible for the wheel tracks was, indeed, the pony she was seeing. What Pinkie couldn't grasp was why this pony seemed so familiar, yet so foreign. Pinkie was almost certain that she'd been graced by this presence before, and the convergence of pieces solidified this all the more.
Sleek fur, radiant of soothing azure. A mane as glossy and silver as the tail swinging from her backside. And, at last, the piece that completed the puzzle, a cutie mark that embodied a life consecrated to magical ability. The answer was right in front of her. With all pieces connected and the picture gleaming as a whole, the answer should have slapped Pinkie stupid. Yet, all she could do was stare, and continue to decipher a mystery she'd already solved.
"She looks so... happy."
The pony herself, and the memory she had left behind were grossly lacking in similarity. Pinkie was sure she'd remember such a beautiful smile. Pinkie was sure she'd remember a mare with such a compelling air about her, that one couldn't help but admire from afar. Furthermore, Pinkie was damn sure she'd remember somepony who could craft a masterpiece of optically fine-tuned genius without help! This couldn't have been the unicorn that her friends had grown to resent. This mesmerizing creature couldn't have been the magician that degenerated Ponyville into a dark, tasteless abode.
Who, in all of Equestria, was this pony?
Pinkie shuddered silently, and attempted something that she dangerously lacked in knowledge, skill, and ability: a formal greeting. Eyes were transfixed upon the dichotomy before her. She stepped from behind her stony cloak. With smooth, careful steps, Pinkie dwindled the distance between them.
The closer she became, the clearer the puzzle did.
With every stroke of the paint brush, this pony's masterpiece gained yet another spectrum of untouchable beauty. An immaculate horizon before them both, it's essence replicated down to the very glow. Hesitation threatened to end Pinkie's advance, but she was compelled beyond recognition to step ever closer. With every inch lost, an ounce of clarity would be gained, until finally Pinkie was incapable of denying it.
"Hiya, Trixie!"
"GREAT SCOTT!"
A terrible jolt contorted the masterpiece under Trixie's craft into a nonsensical abomination that mimicked the sky crashing to Earth. A silence followed, and the paintbrush carried by a baby-blue aura was snapped in two. The unicorn shivered with overwhelming sorrow, having witnessed her work destroyed. This sorrow snapped into rage as she became increasingly aware of an overhaul of words thrown in her direction. Trixie's ears twitched with every end/beginning of sentences, and she turned to the pony stupid enough to remain in her presence. Trixie's eyes went awry with familiarity. And she was suddenly reminded of how every instrument ever conceived had earned the brunt of her hatred.
"Wait. Trixie recognizes you," she observed with a squinty eye. "Yes, you're a friend of Twilight Sparkle."
"Ooh, you're good! Hey, I betcha can't remember my name! Ten seconds, GO!" Pinkie bounced.
Whether it was due to unabashed ignorance, or a well of boundless energy, Trixie simply gawked at Pinkie Pie. "Trixie doesn't care if your name is 'Mud'! She is disinterested by your foolish games! Now kindly remove yourself from Trixie's presence before she does something you'll regret!" Trixie threatened.
The threat was only met with a burst of infuriating laughter. "'Mud'! Oh, sweet Celestia! Can you imagine?!" Pinkie guffawed with several unladylike snorts. "You'll have to do better than that! Come on, you got four seconds left!"
A sharp clinch of the jaw swarmed Trixie's vision with dots of nausea. Despite the any discrepancy, the showmare was almost certain that this parasite was mocking her. And she was in such a good mood, too...
"What are you, dense?! Trixie has no time for this nonsense!" Trixie snorted with an upturned nose, levitating her belongings into her wheeled stable.
"ERR! Times up! Pinkie Pie's the name, throwin' parties is my garbanzo-I mean GAME! Shoot! Totally bombed it!" Pinkie berated herself.
And there it was, a moment of pause. Trixie sputtered, and threw a glance toward the dirt, stifling a mute giggle fit. Though deprived of full-on laughter, this was a victory in Pinkie's book. Trixie cleared her throat, and turned her flank to this very, very unsanctioned visitor. The magician hastily strapped herself to her wheeled stable, and bid farewell with a throaty 'harumph!'. It suddenly occurred to her, with overwhelming constriction, that venturing so close to Ponyville was quite possibly the greatest folly she'd ever committed.
"Why don't you find somepony else to follow?!" Trixie spat without even a glance in the bouncing parasite's direction.
"Because I found you, Silly!" Pinkie giggled. "And I'm not 'following' you, per se. I'm just staying near you while shadowing your every move. Totally different!"
"Yes, of course... Whatever was I thinking?" Trixie deadpanned.
"OOH! I know this one! Okay, don't tell me, don't tell me! You were thinking about kumquats!" Pinkie bounced along. "Heeheehee! I love that word! kumquat! KUMQUAT!"
The sting of an impending migraine spurred Trixie to walk faster, hoping against hope that if she ignored the other pony, she would simply vanish. A feeble wish to those well acquainted with Reality. Scowling, Trixie poured an astonishing amount of effort into ignoring Pinkie's unmerciful assault of questions and useless observations. If only to hold her fleeting sanity. Just as Trixie began wondering how Pinkie hadn't taken a single breath between sentences, she ceased in her tracks with an angry stomp, perturbed by a question that teetered on tabu boundaries.
"That's none of your business!" Trixie snapped with her best disarming glare.
Pinkie froze mid-bounce at those words. Her hooves pressed against her face, now glowing with curiosity. "OHMYGOSH! Now you have to tell me!" she gasped.
Trixie resisted the completely understandable urge to slap a hoof hard against her face. She understood as clear as the utter destruction of her peaceful day, that no amount of effort would cleanse her presence of all this pink. That, of course, didn't stop her from trying. And try she did Try she did...
One hoof step followed another, and Trixie continued along the dirt road, denying stupid Pinkie Pie and her stupid, stupid curiosity. All of those well-honed years of ignoring 'boos' and 'hisses' swerved Trixie's thought to everything that didn't involve the menace pestering her. Unfortunately, her last meal happened to be among those thoughts. And her belly disagreed with that line of thinking. Loudly.
"Looks like somepony's hungry~!" Pinkie sing-sang.
"Trixie is fine, now will you PLEASE go away before you give her an ulcer?!" Trixie implored.
Opportunity erupted into the fray. The smile now stretched across Pinkie's face was so bright, it actually faded the showmare's scowl ever-so slightly. "And let you miss out on the baked wonders of Sugarcube Corner?! NEVER! Don't worry Trixie, Pinkie Pie is at your service!" Pinkie shouted with a proud hoof-pump.
"Just what kind of loser do you take me for?!" Trixie scoffed with another nostril upturn. "I, The Great and Powerful Trixie, have plenty of food to sate her hunger. She doesn't need you, OR your 'service'!"
Pinkie's smile broadened. "Well color me green, and call me Apple Pie! Why didn't ya say so?! Don't stop on my account! Go ahead, eat up!" she encouraged with a toothy grin.
All too soon, Trixie had realized her failure. Not only had she blatantly lied about her horde of imaginary food, but if today had indicated anything, Trixie wouldn't be rid of the earth pony anytime soon.
Again, this didn't stop her from trying. "Trixie prefers to eat alone," Trixie declared with clearly strained fortitude.
"That. Is so. COOL! So do I!" Pinkie chimed. "Well, except when I'm at parties, around friends, and/or talking to ponies I barely know. Details, details!"
The unsightly protrusion of flesh that surely pulsated at Trixie's temple would have given a normal pony the hint. This fact riddled Trixie's mind with glorious, unsoiled fantasies of a world that benefited greatly from Irony's nonexistence.
"Perhaps Trixie didn't make herself clear; Trixie. Eats. Alone. As in, without annoying, attention-obsessed little ticks that can't seem to take 'no' for a... for... H-Hey! Where did you get that?!"
Having a tasteful work of art sullied by Pinkie's intrusion was bad enough. Being pestered by that same pony was far worse. But as Trixie stopped in her tracks, yet again, this new development nearly shattered her composure all together. This pink parasite was eating a cupcake. In front of her!
"Where did I get what?" Pinkie asked through a mouthful of delightful pastry.
"Don't play 'stupid' with Trixie, you're too good at it!" Trixie said with an accusing hoof. "You have no pockets to carry anything, so where did you get that cupcake?!"
Pinkie scarfed the rest of her treat and smiled again. "Oh, that?! Silly, I always carry an extra snacky with me! I was gonna give it to you, but then you were all like 'Trixie has plenty of food!', and I was all like 'Really?!', and you like 'Yeah!', and I can't remember, but I think I said something about Apple Pie-"
"Enough with the food! For the love of all things pure and sacred, PLEASE stop talking about food!", Trixie shouted with another gastric grumble.
For the second time that day, Pinkie was confused. "Gosh, Trixie. If you're so hungry, why aren't you eating anything?" she asked
And cue the torrential perspiration.
Trixie laid another silent curse upon Irony and all of her cruelty, heat enveloping her cheeks. "Well I-... Um... T-The Great and Powerful Trixie just needs... a-a change of tastes! Yes, that's
it!" Trixie sputtered. "She grows tired of eating the same thing, and requires more variety!"
A vacant stare from her pink counterpart ushered a very forced, very uncomfortable smile from Trixie, whom was soon relieved by a bright smile. "Oh, I get it! You need a little flavor in your life! Well, look no further. If its flavor your lookin' for, then I'm your mare!" Pinkie declared with another hoof-pump.
The drowning rush of mitigation, and gratitude for Pinkie's ignorance, empowered Trixie to forgive that last innuendo, mentally congratulated herself for, once again, escaping the clutches of starvation.
"On one teeny, weeny, itty, bitty little condition!"
Of course. Of course. Trixie slowly cranked her eyes open, not recalling ever closing them, and shot Pinkie Pie an empty glare. The pride she felt before, withered and died, giving rise to stomach-tying doubt. She should have known better. She should have seen this coming.
"What do you want..." Trixie grumbled.
"Well, okaaay~! But ya can't get mad at me!" Pinkie grinned.
"What. Do you want?"
Trixie's demand slapped the very wind, every word whisking from her mouth like a cracking whip. Yet, Pinkie Pie was unaffected, holding her agitating smile with gusto, eager to indulge.
"An answer to my question, of course!" Pinkie answered.
"What in Equestria are you going on abo-... No... Unacceptable."
"Aw, come on, Trixie! You've got me soooo curious! Please?"
"Trixie would rather starve *stomach roars*!"
The stubborn unicorn clutched at her belly with a raspy groan. The twinge of hunger again reminded Trixie when she had her last meal. And numbers don't lie.
"Oh please, please, please, please, PLEASE?!" Pinkie besought with a blinding gleam in her eye.
For all it was worth, Trixie was faced with yet another lose-lose situation. On one hoof, she could retain her independence by denying the most generous offer she'd received in some time. On the other hoof, she could accept the offer and tell Pinkie Pie why she was painting, of all things, and not performing magical feats beyond imagination. Even so, between the thought of a satisfied hunger and Pinkie Pie's rapturous absence, Trixie she rigorously weighed her options.
"So this... Sugarcube Corner," Trixie began. "You say it supplies delicacies of the sweet variety?"
Pinkie nodded feverishly. "Uh-huh! From chocolate-chip cookies, to strawberry short cake! Cherry pie, to macadamia truffles! Anything sweet and yummerific you can think of is so there! I LOVE Sugarcube Cor-"
"Trixie will... take your word for it," Trixie interjected with a silencing hoof.
"Sooooo?" Pinkie cooed with fluttering eyelashes.
Trixie's legs went numb. The deed was done. The fight was lost.
"Very well. Trixie accepts your... offer?"
Trixie waved her hoof at Pinkie Pie. Or rather, the shape of Pinkie Pie. A dust cloud once retaining Pinkie's shape whisked and scattered apart, leaving Trixie's jaw agape. She peered behind the dissipating cloud, a long dust trail leading straight into Ponyville.
"Don't question it, Trixie," she mumbled to herself, collapsing to her haunches. "There's a time and a place for that."
A long, contemplative sigh escaped the sowmare's lungs, reveling in silence. This enlightened her to just how much that pink mare could talk, and marked an opportunity for much-needed reflection. Then a stabbing chill struck her chest as she double took her actions. What in the world was she thinking? Why didn't she just sneak away upon Pinkie's absence?
"Wait. I can do that right now, actually! Yes, its perfect! Th-There will be plenty of chances to exhume more food! I'll just take my leave with haste and never return to this dreadful valley again-"
"I'M BACK!"
"GYAH!"
Distasteful curses accompanied Trixie's ten foot decent back to the ground. She whipped her attention to the source of bane, casting her hopes of discovering somepony other than Pinkie Pie into oblivion.
"But where did you-... How did-... When-..."
"Here you go, Trixie! Just like I said!" Pinkie unfastened her new saddle bag, and plopped it before Trixie.
As the stuffed folds collapsed to the ground, Trixie instinctively inhaled the wafting scent, and stared back at Pinkie, not unlike how one who gawk at an angel. "A-All of this... is for me?" her tone was innocent, glistening eyes reflecting brimming tears.
"Silly! Of course it is!" Pinkie delightedly assured. "I had a HUGE breakfast this morning, so I'm good! Dig in!"
"I... I-I don't know what to-..."
Trixie's head dove into the folds of the saddle bag, muffling her sputters with scrumptious pastries. Where any other example of such uncouth enthusiasm would cringe the face and twist the stomach, Trixie's smacks and satisfied whimpers brought Pinkie Pie nothing but joy. There, she waited, beaming at the feasting unicorn with swollen pride. Then, Pinkie was graced with a rather comforting revelation.
"She looks so happy..."
Only when Trixie lifted herself from the ravaged pastries, did Pinkie make a final decision. Allowing her burning lungs much-needed oxygen, the Trixie fought the inexplicable urge to sleep. Naturally, however, she'd made an absolute mule of herself enough as it was; further embarrassment at that point was unacceptable. Then, surely enough, the nagging remembrance of Trixie's required payment eradicated whatever gratitude swelled within. Trixie's face soured, and Pinkie slumped.
Where once, a radiant grin shined, an apprehensive grimace now soiled Trixie's visage. And it poisoned Pinkie's soul.
"I suppose you're awaiting your reward?" Trixie said, holding a shadow of arrogance.
At this, Pinkie held a hoof to her chin. "Hmmm... Nah! That's okay, Trixie! That was on the house!" she cheered, her joy re-inflated.
"Hmph! Typical. Well, not to disappoint you, but Trixie's had her fill, and chooses not to relay any of her-wait... What did you say?"
Even Pinkie's clear, coherent reply wasn't enough for the flabbergasted showmare. Whatever was happening, it simply did not compute. But Trixie was no fool. There was always a loophole, a cycling factor within any stretch of kindness, no matter how decorated.
"N-Nonsense! You actually expect me to believe you?!" Trixie accused.
"Whats not to believe? I always throw parties and invite everypony, free of charge! Last time I checked, at least...", Pinkie brought another thoughtful hoof to her chin, "Besides! You looked so happy! Payment received!"
"Wha-... But-... Y-You lie! This is some kind of trick!"
Only the flicker of Pinkie's smile paved the way for doubt. Trixie continued to poke and pry at her fellow mare's intentions, gaining nothing but sincere smiles and adamant promises of good will. A stubborn defiance that duly enlightened Trixie of how much she REALLY didn't like this pink creature.
"So, I know you said you wouldn't come back to Ponyville, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends!" Pinkie cheered as though she hadn't just received the verbal flank-chew of the century.
"Me?! Friends with you?! Wha... What's the matter with you?! Why do you not censure me?!" Trixie demanded, gaining a vacant stare in return. "Don't you dare mock me! Don't pretend like you forgot! The way I treated you and your friends, I-... Why haven't you cast me aside? Why are you going out of your way to..."
Slowly, sickeningly, Trixie's aggression crumble to dust when she stared into Pinkie's eyes. And the loss of her stinging edge threw Trixie's gaze to the ground. Pinkie's inscrutable virtues, and the unwelcoming moisture stinging her eyes, spurred Trixie to curse every god, demon, and spirit known to the equine species. A weakness she felt only capable of combating through blind dander and hateful words. Yes it was much easier to hate.
So how could this thing make it so unforgivably difficult?
"When I saw you earlier today, you looked so happy," Pinkie said with another full-form slump. "A bad pony couldn't have a really, super-sweet, pretty smile like you do! A-And I felt really bad for messing up your picture. I wanted to see you smile again!"
The very energy Trixie used to keep her hatred for this pony strong and tall, was vanquished in an instant. Every second she squandered glaring into those beady eyes did this to her, reduced her muscles to jelly, ushered a prompt collapse unto her rump.
Trixie searched those very eyes for an ulterior motive, for even a shred of evidence that proved the contrary of Pinkie's assertions. After several decidedly awkward seconds, Trixie's doubts slowly, but surely, receded. Then resigned herself with a heavy sigh.
"I've been painting for most of my life. Its... really the only other thing I've been good at besides the obvious," Trixie explained.
By that point, the magician was finally conscious of her missing third-person tongue. And for the first time, for a length she couldn't begin to recall, she didn't care. Pinkie's belly was bounded to the ground with curled legs, instantly captured by the answer she wanted so much to hear. Trixie struggled to keep a quivering smile detained. While garnering admiration had become a skill, the undivided, unbreakable attention given by this annoying pink mare was something of a refreshment.
A blessing, Trixie would admit to nopony.
"Its a keepsake, so to say. A dedication to-... well, let's say, its more than just a pass-time."
Just as the words left her mouth, Trixie became painfully aware of her mistake. She glanced to Pinkie anxiously, praying that the deeply pained hitch in her voice went unnoticed. Experience, as harsh a teacher as it was, cruelly reminded her to keep such hopes buried.
"Oh... This is a sad story, isn't it?" Pinkie slumped again, a gesture that Trixie started to care little for. "Well, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I think I got enough to work with!"
There it was again. The sting of frustration that spawned only from a lack of understanding. Did it really mean so much to see somepony happy? Was their truly no other reason for such a thing without the hope of something in return? Even as those question resonated, every sharpened instinct Trixie had acquired stabbed at her for what she prepared to do. Only the whimsical radiance of Pinkie's eyes quieted these doubts, and encouraged her onward. And, even then, despite tortuous efforts to stop it, a tiny smile crept upon Trixie's face as Pinkie marveled upon her collection of masterpieces, levitated from her stable.
The satisfying symphony of 'ooh' and 'ahh' stirred something in the showmare. A dormant sense of purpose once thought snuffed out by a particularly irksome librarian. For some strange, unknowable reason, even as her thoughts gravitated back to not-so-happy times, her smile remained. Any reason Trixie could have depicted seemed to point to this gawking, foal-hearted mare, drowning her artistic craft with bottomless pools of admiration.
"HOLY GUACAMOLE! I'm about to be brilliant!"
Then and there, Trixie's heart quaked, not only in spite of Pinkie's outburst, but at the image of what horrible, unspeakable, catastrophic idea had just birthed itself within that intangible mind. So much so, that she feared to question the pink pony given the blood frosting terror of receiving an answer.
"You should totally go to Canterlot! There's big, fancy-schmacy, super, awesome art show this afternoon! With what I just saw, you'll knock 'em dead in ten seconds flat!... All rights reserved..." Pinkie said.
Oh, she fought it. By the spirits abound, Trixie fought the hot blush that surely darkened her face, avoiding those damnable eyes with another healthy dose of ground-watching. Such flattery. Such praise.
"C-Canterlot? No, I-I couldn't. That is, its not my place to-... Do you really think they're that good?" her voice, yet again, slipped from haughty to innocent without her consent.
Pinkie's feverish nod may have very well put her neck in danger, but she made her point. This only deepened the accursed blush permeating Trixie's features. The girth of genuine appreciation for her talent was a sensation long forgotten to the magician. She didn't exactly know how to handle it anymore. The air thickened with silence as Trixie mentally retreated to weigh her options again. Unfortunately, she would receive no such peace.
"OOH! I have an even BETTER idea! More brillianter that my other brilliant idea!" Pinkie's smile had returned full-force, somehow brightening Trixie's own. "I'll go with you!"
Crashes, shatters, and explosions erupted in mental regurgitation, rendering Trixie's smile completely and utterly dead.
Author's Note
There ya go! A rare pairing with a rare full chapter from me! I really enjoy the idea a these two paired up, and I'm looking forward to knocking socks off with the possibilities since no one seems to pay attention to PinxiePie. THAT ENDS NOW!
As usual critique is welcome for improvement purpose. In fact, for this piece, I can't ask for enough of it. Drop me a line friends!
Craine...
It was a bad idea. Trixie knew it from the start.
The needles of regret and stomach-caving anxiety were among that of many, many things that dampened a potentially wonderful trip to Canterlot, into a moment in time she'd never wish to repeat. Perhaps, she thought, these wretched, unneeded feelings could've been swiftly avoided if a certain joy-obsessed mare understood the meaning of the word 'no'. Perhaps, she thought, the disdainful, penetrating eyes of the Canterlot Elite would've cast their gaze elsewhere, if she was without such company. Perhaps, she thought, throwing herself beneath the train, as it resigned her to this fate, would have saved her an afternoon of dread and despair.
It was a bad idea. A terrible, awful idea... and there was nothing she could do but reap what she'd sewn.
"Ooh! Looky, looky, there it is!" Pinkie exclaimed.
Somehow--somehow--Trixie found the audacity to smile. She couldn't deny Pinkie's innocent charm to be welcoming. Humiliating beyond the boundaries of rational thought, but welcoming all the same. Suspicious, discouraging eyes followed the pair as they traversed to their destination, one bouncing with inextinguishable energy, the other attempting to ward off their gazes with a very bad poker-face.
Unfastening herself, and parking her stable close by, Trixie entered the immaculate home of art with Pinkie, hoping against hope that their reason for being there was worth the pain. As it turned out, the experience was rather easy on the eyes. Surrounding herself with art of her own craft had sprung a unique appreciation within Trixie. As such, the showmare drank in every detail of every masterpiece on display, steadily disregarding the glares from the hoity-toity ponies abound. The only distraction deemed worthy of Trixie's attention was that familiar, harmonious song of 'ooh' and 'ahh', uttered by none other than her hyperactive escort. A given, of course, as nopony else shared that level of enthusiasm.
At first, it was off-putting, earning the pink mare an apprehensive stare from Trixie.
But as she observed further, noting how gracefully she weaved between everypony, how she demonstrated a discerning eye for crafts beyond the mundane, and how she would bound from corner to corner with a sparkle of amazement for every piece she crossed, Trixie dared to smile, dared to lower her guard. If only for a moment.
"I've never met anypony like her... She really does have a taste for art," Trixie mused.
As the minutes swam onward, chiseling the tension away, Trixie found herself alongside her fellow mare, observing a particularly stirring portrait. A masterfully shadowed stallion, laced with age and volumes of wisdom. A dark, yet welcoming intensity etched into his eyes, accented only by the depth of a magnetic, ethereal background. The mere sight of it warranted a golden opportunity for Trixie, a chance to test her escort's eye for talent if, indeed, it was there. She leafed through a mental list of questions that were sure to lay a mind bare, and reveal just how deep one could truly be.
But as she turned to the pink pony, ready for her grilling critique, every inspiration to do so vanished before the nostalgic smile graced on Pinkie's lips.
"I like this one," Pinkie murmured, perhaps without realizing it. "It reminds me of Home."
Right there, in that very moment, Trixie was certain that any question she conceived was answered with that single, warming statement. And whether invoked by the portrait, or by dumbfounding coincidence, their thoughts were parallel. Of this, Trixie was certain. For the first time throughout that entire day, Trixie accepted natural camaraderie, and redeemed her stare at the portrait with a smile of her own. A smile full and proud to share the company of a pony with eyes to see.
"Hm. It does, doesn't it?" Trixie concurred.
There they stood in companionable silence, something that began to eat away at Trixie’s conscience. At first, the feeling scared her, not knowing why or how it came to be. But as Trixie gandered at Pinkie for the briefest fraction of a second, she shifted all of her blame on one thing. One stupid, ensnaring thing. Curiosity.
“So,” Trixie chewed her tongue for such a pathetic opening, “You said this picture reminds you of home. Trixie would’ve assumed the opposite of this would have that effect.”
Then, as if it had never left, Pinkie’s ear-to-ear grin was there. “Oh! It totally does! Which makes it so cool, because having two homes is really neat and-”
“Wait. Two homes?” Trixie interjected.
Pinkie fully turned to the other mare. “Ya-huh! I was born on a rock-farm, and this portrait here reminds me of my dear old Papa Pie! Though I probably shouldn’t call him old, ‘cause I remember the one time that slipped out, and I was carving rocks sculptures for a week! Does horrible things to the hooves, let me tell ya! Ooh! And there was this one time after I got my cutie-mark when-”
Trixie wasn’t listening. Not after what she’d just heard. Pinkie’s myriad of words fell empty to Trixie’s astonishment, which soon fell prey to a reoccurring nuisance, and now, her most hated enemy. Curiosity.
“A-A rock-farm? You?” Trixie gawked.
“Pfft! Duh, silly! Thats what I just said!” Pinkie beamed. “Why? Have you been to a rock-farm bef-... Oh yeah.”
Two plus two, equals six. Thats how amazed Trixie was when she connected the dots. “‘Papa Pie’... Pie? As in Jedediah Pie? As in married to-”
“Marjoly Pie?” Pinkie finished, her eyes nearly bulging.
The two mares simply stood there. For a long, long moment. Then Trixie spoke again, her words chosen cautiously. “Woke you up before sunrise every morning,” she suggested.
Pinkie slowly nodded. “Gave you hundreds of tiny rocks before moving you to big ones,” she said.
Trixie’s eyes widened. “Always said ‘Small or large, every job-
“Is just AS IMPORTANT-NO WAY!” both ponies shouted in unison.
The quiet hum of activity dropped to silence, and the neighboring ponies cast sideways glances toward the pair. These glances were not lost on Trixie, and she cleared her throat.
“You worked at that rock farm?! My rock farm?!” Pinkie’s voice keened against the ear.
“Yes, well, quite a coincidence this is,” Trixie said, stoically ignoring every tingle in her chest.
“I’ll say! I mean, what are the odds?!”
‘What are the odds?’ That question provoked a number of others, and Trixie found herself reopening a circuit of thought she’d sworn to keep closed for as long as she drew breath. Hazily, those memories, those sweaty, sticky, underpaid memories soiled Trixie’s mind. And in those memories, she searched for something. Something that didn’t belong. Something she could swear up and down she’d seen before that horrible milestone.
Something pink.
Trixie’s eyes brightened at Pinkie, who was too enticed in her amazement to shut up. “That... That was you?” Trixie asked.
“And I was all like ‘You can’t peel bananas with dynami-’... What?” Pinkie gave the magician an inquisitive look.
“The family portrait. At the farm. That was you, wasn’t it? With the other two fillies?” Trixie asked again, inwardly demanding why the pang in her stomach wouldn’t go away.
Trixie couldn’t quite put Pinkie’s expression into a category. Perhaps because she’d barely seen more than a smile from her. But when Pinkie answered the question with a gentle nod, Trixie immediately picked the expression apart. It was something in which Trixie was well acquainted. And something that was undeniably misplaced on Pinkie Pie.
Then, before Trixie could examine it further, a smile cut it in two. “Yup! That was me alright! Pinkamena Diane Pie!” Pinkie said.
Trixie silently mouthed the name with an averted gaze, if only to grasp the absurdity of it all. As Pinkie redeemed her bounding observations of the masterpieces, Trixie remained as she was. Thinking. Mulling. Contemplating how she could continue the day without succumbing to her curiosity. It was silly. Downright ludicrous, in fact. But it was there. As was her hatred for the rock farming days, Trixie’s curiosity was irrefutable.
And more so, it was maddening.
The more she thought of it, the less sense it made. The more she remembered, the more she wished to know why. Why wasn’t Pinkie smiling in that picture?
“Hey,” Trixie gently called.
Pinkie’s response was less than welcoming, as far as Trixie was concerned. Of course, anypony would be put off when suddenly face to face with a mare that was already clear across the room.
“Yeah?” Pinkie said.
Trixie sputtered herself back into composure. “U-Uh, yes, (ahem).”
There it was again. A moment of pause. Trixie docked her intelligence by several points for addressing this without a plan. And every plan that did come to her seemed more ridiculous than the last.
‘Hey, I’m curious about you. Lets talk.’
‘Hey, you’re interesting. Tell me more about yourself.’
‘Hey, I’ve got reach, you’ve got flexibility. Let’s blow off some steam.’
Trixie’s intelligence suffered more point deduction when a tiny laugh escaped her lips. Even as she attempted to unruffle herself again, Trixie was sure that Pinkie caught her slip-up, thus ushering the birth of another stupid, idiotic idea.
“What was it like?” Trixie asked, stepping to comfortable distance. “When you lived there, that is.”
Trixie’s eyes flickered at Pinkie’s expression. Now she was beyond the shadow of doubt. She knew exactly where she had seen that expression. When Pinkie’s eyes whisked from side to side, Trixie was reminded that they weren’t alone. And they weren’t ignored. And they were still being glared at.
“Hey!” Pinkie said, her grin returned. “Wanna go for a walk? I can tell ya all about it with a little exercise!”
Alarms had been setting off in Trixie’s head all day. Ever since the train-ride to Canterlot. Only now, did those alarms elicit a splitting migraine. And only now, did Trixie ignore them with youthful abandon.
“Trixie believes she would like that,” Trixie said, noting varying degrees of hostility around them. “Very much so.”
Traveling too close to Ponyville. Lowering her guard with Pinkie Pie. Actually agreeing to travel to Canterlot with her. Sure... Why not another bad idea?
Author's Note
Now. Before I receive angry comments about how short this chapter is, let me make one thing abundantly clear. The length of the first chapter was necessary for introduction purposes, given that Pinkie and Trixie are comPLETE strangers. To that end, the remaining chapters will be 1500-2000 words max. Besides, if I get a little ambitious, you'll all know it ;)
Trixie stared blankly at the polished brick-road of Canterlot. With every step, she would care a little less where she was going. With every word spilled into the air by her pink escort, Trixie would care just a little less for the glares thrown at them. With every second spent under the afternoon sun, she would fight a little harder to keep her smile at bay.
The very thought of it ran the blood cold, but Pinkie may have rubbed off on her. Every attempt to un-derail the conversation, was met with one off-handed excuse after another. It was easy to ignore at first. But soon enough, as Trixie persisted, she detected reluctance hidden beneath Pinkie’s beaming grin.
It wasn’t a bad thing. Not really. But Trixie would have much prefered the conversation promised to her. A conversation that involved rock farms and back-breaking labor and misplaced pink fillies and-
“Good gravy, I’ve really lost it, haven’t I?” Trixie thought.
“And to think! All they had to do was share the apple pies!” Pinkie bounced along. “Have you ever seen a buffalo Trixie? They’re huuuuge!”
“Trixie hates to interrupted, “Trixie lied, “but how does this pertain to your rock farming days?”
Trixie’s brow flickered as Pinkie’s cheerful expression did. “Oh. Well, uh... It doesn’t, of course!” She smiled again.
A light went bright in Trixie’s mind, and she finally released the smile that teased her. “Well why not? Didn’t you promise to ‘tell me all about it?’” Her voice sharpened.
Pinkie stopped bouncing, suddenly having only the energy to walk. “Well yeah, I did, but... I...”
Trixie’s smile became as sharp as her voice. “You wouldn’t want to deny me that much, would you? Not after my story,” she said.
By now, the two had stopped in their tracks. And Trixie’s smile grew at Pinkie’s shifting eyes, anticipating her next excuse.
“But... Well I... I-I got you all of those treats!” Pinkie offered with a wavy foreleg.
Trixie allowed a feather-light chuckle. “‘On the house?’” Her brow quirked.
The crumble of Pinkie’s confidence, and the wilt of her ears: food for the soul. Trixie offered the other mare a half-cocked grin, daring her to make another excuse. As Pinkie’s eyes found everything except for her, Trixie knew she’d won.
“Right. I... did say that, didn’t I? Hehehe!... Heh.” It was almost painful to see such a forced smile. Almost. “Well, I don’t go against my word, so I guess--What! Are you all! STARING AT?!”
Whatever Trixie was about to say, shot from her lips with a bug-eyed sputter. Pinkie’s shallow breaths echoed amidst the now silent crowd. Trixie, recalling her surroundings, noted quite a few ponies nervously averting the gazes. Then she turned back to a smiling Pinkie Pie. Slack-jawed.
“Well, I feel better!” Pinkie enthused.
Trixie found it hard--nearly impossible--to gauge her feelings right then and there. As she watched that ball of pink prance ahead, humming a tune nopony else would dare call their own, Trixie found her breath being taken with her. Every thought sent pulsing ripples through her skull. Every breath somehow starved her lungs for air. At first, she worried that she might be dying. Then came the blood-thinning tingle.
Trixie’s brows knitted, a sharp glint to her eye, her smile returned. Excited for the challenge of discovering more. Trixie trod forward to catch the other mare. But when she re-took her place beside Pinkie, Trixie’s smile waned. And when she saw Pinkie’s brow’s curled up with glistening eyes, Trixie’s smile completely vanished.
“What’s wrong?”
Three things occurred to Trixie after those words left her. First, a part of her--the part that berated acts of general concern--stung her temples with a loud protest. Second, Trixie’s heart caved, flattening her ears with very unwelcome guilt. The last thing frightened her a bit. A lot, actually. Trixie chinned Pinkie up. With her nose.
“Hey, come on.” Trixie stepped closer to Pinkie’s side. “How about... How about you tell one bit, and... Trixie can offer one in return?”
Pinkie gave a gentle sniff, unable to meet Trixie’s eyes. “Its not that. I was really nasty to those ponies back there,” Pinkie said. “Its just that when I think about home, sometimes I... Well, you saw.”
“Well, if you ask Trixie, and you probably should, those spoiled brats deserved it,” Trixie said, her voice as sharp as any blade. “You’ve nothing to feel ashamed of.”
Pinkie’s eyes reconnected with Trixie’s. “You think so?” She sniffed again.
“But of course!” Trixie proudly declared. “Even Trixie knows its impolite to stare. Why, that takes her back to her filly-hood. ‘Beatrix Ophelia Lulamoon! You keep your eyes to yourself unless spoken to, or so help me, I will turn this cart around!’”
Somehow--and her heart needled at the thought of it--Trixie smiled fondly at her escort’s bubbly laughter. Then she lifted a brow at Pinkie’s disarming, half-lidded stare. “You have a pretty name.”
For a while--a long one, at that--Trixie simply looked at the mare walking beside her. Then found it hard to keep eye contact. “Y-Yes. Well...” she trailed off.
“Heehee! And its so adorable when you blush!” Pinkie’s spryness had returned.
Between the regret of mentioning her full name, and wishing she was a darker shade of blue, Trixie became aware of the warmth on her cheeks. “H-Hey! The Great and Powerful Trixie is gorgeous! ‘Adorable’ is beneath her,” she declared with a lifted nose.
Then it happened again: that smile tugging at Trixie’s mouth when Pinkie laughed. Somehow, it managed to knock ‘unwanted smiles’ up to number 6 among Trixie’s most hated things. Right above ‘blushing in public’.
“Alright, thats enough out of you, Missy,” Trixie said, finally killing her would-be smile. “Trixie has given you her bit, now pay up.”
Pinkie had stifled her laughter into static giggle-fit. “Okie dokie lokie! I’ll play since you care about me enough to cheer me up!” She beamed.
“Thats more like i-... Wait. T-Trixie doesn’t-”
“Guess what my very, very first ever birthday present was, EVER!” Pinkie pearly whites chasmed along her face.
“A rock...” Trixie deadpanned.
“You. Are so. GOOD AT THIS! Okay, you turn!”
For some reason, and she would allow anypony to correct her, Trixie knew where this was going. And, for yet another elusive reason, Trixie could only smile at the thought.
Author's Note
Why is the chapter shorter, you ask? Because I do what I want, dammit!
