Trix of the Trade - Chapter 20

>You are Trixie.
>Manehatten. Only a few hours away, and it remains completely opposite from Fillydelphia. While every city has crime and its fair share of scum, Manehatten hides it behind celebrities, celebrations, and buildings that touch the sky itself.
>A tourist’s paradise, they call it.
>You and Anonymous are on the outskirts of the city. In the time since you’ve left Fillydelphia, you’ve gone into your room and spruced up a bit.
>Anonymous did not, however.
>You wanted to brush the heck out of that hair so his image wouldn’t dampen your own!
>But Anonymous has been very touchy about his personal bubble, today. He would shift away if you ‘accidentally’ brushed up against him. He would try to finish conversations as soon as they started.
>You originally thought nothing of it, but now you’re becoming worried. You know he’s tired, but Anon doesn’t get this grumpy after a bad night’s sleep.
>After a few failed attempts to perk him up, you gave up and remained just as silent as he did.
“… And Trixie will be going to the spa at least twice while we’re here. Twice every week we’re here, that is. You should really come along. Not that Trixie wants you to come along, but you more than anyone looks worse for wear. If you’re going to be spending more time with Trixie, you at least need to look presentable.”
>Maybe… a little less silent.
>And that’s another thing you didn’t mention to Anonymous yet, nor plan to.

>He has an unnatural affection for ponies who need help. Mares, specifically. You need to keep a closer eye on him, lest some other mare with intent to steal him away comes along. Vinyl already did damage to Anonymous, much more would break him and force him away from you.
>You are a mare who is more than capable of handling herself, but you… just… like having Anonymous around.
>Hahaha… why are you sweating?
>Ahem, anyway… you’ve deduced that the best method of approach would have to be getting closer to Anonymous, but not too close to distract him from work! That creepy orange stallion had a few valid points. If you could ‘claim’ Anonymous, all the mares in the world could want him, but he wouldn’t dare leave your side.
>How exactly will you do that? That remains to be seen.
>Seduction is simply out of the question. Sure, you’re beginning to realize he is an attractive creature. Broad shoulders, tall, handsome features. And he’s funny, assertive, kind…
>Yes, those are only facts that took you a little longer to realize. He’s only naturally that way, and that’s how everyone perceives him.
>Of course they’d notice his unusually meaty flesh that makes him soft while remaining hard and muscular in all the right places. Honestly, how did you not notice?
>And he smells nice too.
>No wonder the mares are all over him.
>It’s a good thing you share at least twice as many attractive traits. When you begin to win him over, it won’t take long for him to be under your spell.
>Oh, oh! You could use a spell to make him fall in love with you!

>Ah… Wait. Love. You don’t want him to fall in love with you. That crosses the line of weird. It’s a shame the want it, need it spell is as strong as it is.
>No, you have to use plain old Trixie charm, which is the best type of charm there.
>And you have to work fast. That Vinyl said she would find Anonymous at the New Cycle celebration, so that only gives you a week. Easy enough.
>By that time, you’ll have to be pushing Anonymous off you.
>Your train of thought is cut off as Anonymous pulls the wagon off the side of the road.
>With only a grunt, he quickly enters the wagon through the roof hatch. It takes your brain a few seconds to command you to follow him.
>As you enter the wagon, he already has a cup of water in hand as he walks to his room.
“Where are you going?”
>”I need to catch up on a lot of sleep. We’re in Manehatten so go… explore, or something.”
“Explore?”
>”Yeah, go do that. You said this place was wonderful, right?”
“Quite. And do you think it’s wise for you to miss such an experience?”
>”I’ll experience it tomorrow. Gooooood night.”
>Well, this is absolutely unacceptable.
>Before he can enter his room, you cast a ‘yank hard and get over here’ spell on his collar, drawing yelps and complaints from him.
>You then push him towards the door, finally getting him to surrender.
>”Alright, alright. Not long, though, okay?”
“Trixie will be done when she’s done.”
>He lets out a long groan as you continue to urge him out the door.

>Minutes later, you are wandering the streets of Manehatten. You may be on the edge of it, but it’s artistic and modern culture are still clear as day. Tall, skinny homes are pushed up against each other, alternating between sage greens, dull reds, clean whites, and warm grays. Cafés litter intersections, most with a few tables out front, each surrounded by black metal fences.
>Most ponies that passed by looked normal enough, but you’d pass by the fashionista or the crazy ones every so often, adding extra flavor to this unique story.
>Of course, how could you forget about the most unique being in all of Manehatten?!
>You!
>Haha! You would have to be the most spectacular pony in Manehatten! In Equestria! Your presence is something of a gift to these peasants! Only until you strike awe into these ponies, they will not know this. It’s a shame, really. Your looks alone should be enough for that.
>And eve now you draw quite a few eyes. You left the hat back at the wagon, but the cape is signature Trixie. Surely that’s how they recognize you.
>”Trixie.” Anonymous pokes you in the side. “A lot of ponies are looking. Can we go back?”
>Mmm, yes. You also have an alien with you, you suppose. That might attract a few extras.
“Absolutely not. Trixie wants to enjoy her time in Manehatten. Not spend it all inside a cramped wagon with you.”
>”I still don’t see why I need to come along.”
>You simply snort and shake your head in disapproval. How can he NOT see?

>The two of you walk a little longer. You soak up the environment while Anonymous pouts and moans as he follows. Eventually, something catches his interest.
>A little ratty thrift store. It only took Anonymous a whole few seconds to find something horrible to keep his interest.
>”Oooh, Trixie, can we stop here for a few seconds?”
“No. Not here. It’s… gross.”
>”It’s not gross. Look, come here.”
>He enters the door just off to the left. You attempt to muster an order for him to not go in, but it’s far too late for that. So you sigh and follow him in.
>The dark and dingy place reeks of used clothes and recycled porn magazines. That second one really shouldn’t have a smell, but that’s the best way to describe it.
>Anonymous stands next to a tall shelf filled with dull and uninteresting toys and knick knacks. One in particular has caught his interest.
>”Trixie, Trixie. Check this out.” He nearly shoves the stupid thing in your face. “A lava lamp! Oh man, I’ve always wanted one of these. It’s only ten bits, so there’s no way I’m passing it up.”
“Don’t be an idiot, you don’t know if it even works.”
>”Oh, um…” He flips the thing around, looking for something. “Hey, magic change thingy.”
>He points it towards you, and sure enough, there’s a hole in the bottom.
>”Would you mind-“
“Yes.”
>”Come on, I just want to know if it works.”
>You scoff, and look over your shoulder to make sure no one is looking.
“Fine, but do it quickly.”

>You present your horn, and he slides the lamp on top of it.
“This is so dirty…” You say under your breath.
>”Uhm… is… is it really?” You can see a blush forming on his face.
“I meant the lamp, you idiot. It’s disgusting”
>As if powered by your annoyance rather than your magic, the lamp flickers to life, much to your displeasure.
>”Yes! This will be way better than that stupid lantern in my room.”
“Hmph, you only wanted a silly room decoration.”
>”Well excuuuuse me, not everyone has a giant picture of you hanging over their huge bed in a spacious room.” He bumps into you as he walks by.
>That… was an unusually hostile reaction. Did you say something we-… Of course! Why didn’t you think of this before?
>You know exactly what Anonymous wants, and the perfect way for him to only think of you!
>As Anonymous pays, you yank on his collar once again.
>”Hey, where’re we going now?”
“Back to the wagon.”
>”Already? Great. I’m ready to catch up on some sleep.”
“Yes, yes, but Trixie must show you something first.”
>”Fine, but could you…” He yanks himself out of your magical grip. “Stop dragging me around everywhere? I’m not some dog on a leash.”
>The burn is there for the taking. You could easily ruin the next five minutes for him.
>Three…
>Two…
>One…
>Shoot, it’s too late now.
“Only if you can keep up. You’re functioning worse than usual, so you’d better not fall behind.”
>”Whatever.” He says flatly.

>The walk back to the wagon is short enough. Anonymous was able to keep a brisk pace in hopes that he may soon rest. Of course you’ll let him, but you’re going to give his room the makeover of a lifetime.
>As he enters the wagon, his energy suddenly dies off as his fast walk becomes a dead-like shuffle. You immediately rush to your room. What he’s getting is small, and you have a ton of these, but no stallion’s room is complete without one.
>You quickly dig one out of your desk. Seriously, you have far too many of these.
>Then you trot on over to his room and swing his door open to find him already out.
>No matter.
>Setting his gift on the floor, you prod him once or twice to rouse him from his slumber. He only shifts and grunts in annoyance, so you continue the assault of pokes. Only once you command him to, “Wake up!” does he finally respond.
>He muffles a, “What?” into his pillow.
“Look at what Trixie so graciously got for you.”
>You nudge him with a hoof as he turns his head over with a blatantly grouchy expression on his face. Now that you have his attention, you levitate his present to his face.
>A very, very beautiful framed photo of yourself.
>Trixie, you are the best at gifts.
>It takes him a moment, but he then lets out a short laugh.
>”Yeah, thanks a lot. It’ll really spruce up the place.” His words drip with sarcasm as he leans up against the wall next to his head. He then turns the lava lamp on.
>”Look, a reeeeeal bachelor pad. Awesome.”
“Hmph. It’s not Trixie’s fault you can’t spruce up the place.”
>He then shoots a fiery glare at you.
>”I live in a fucking broom closet. I can’t do much with it.”
>He rolls onto his side, facing away from you.
>”Thanks Trixie, but I really need some sleep. So please, just go.”

>You shut-No, slam Anon’s door.
>Exit the wagon.
>Make sure no one is around.
>Take your cape.
>Then proceed to bite down hard on it.
>What is his problem?! You took him out to see the wonders of Manehatten for a whole thirty minutes! You gave him a picture of yourself! YOURSELF! Does he not know how personal that is? Everyone else has to pay for that kind of thing!
>He’s just a selfish, stupid, ugly, ogre of an ape!
>Forget it. Forget it! If he wants to sleep while you visit Manehatten, fine! While he’s sleeping, Vinyl can take him! She’ll probably sleep with him!
>Wait, that come out wrong.
>Except it’s a valid insult.
>Hmph…
>You spit your cape out of your mouth and walk in some random direction, or whatever.
>Your charm and generosity has only not worked, but it also seems to have driven Anonymous away?
>But he also hates it when you’re greedy and selfish, which you clearly aren’t.
>Celestia… do you need stallion advice? Except, here’s the issue, he’s not a stallion. Are there guides to this sort for problem? Are you seriously looking for advice? You are Trixie! You can win a man’s he-You mean, stallion’s heart just by fluttering your eyelashes at him!
>But with him, you keep going in circles of frustration and infatuation and confidence. That needs to change fast. You need to plan out your next move and accept seduction as a last resort. If all else fails, Anonymous will surely fall for your body. And when he wants to… ahem, you simply delay it. That only works for so long until he becomes impatient and gives up. You may have to turn to this for a temporary solution.
>But for the rest of the day, you think. You will think, plan, and scheme.
>Anonymous is tricky, so you must be trickier.
>And you are Trixie.
>Tricks are in your fucking name.

>You spend the next few hours… messing around with your money.
>You have like, 300 bits! How can you not spend it?!
>You bought yourself an expensive lunch, a new mirror, and paid a visit to a local record store. You left the store empty hoofed though. You’re not entirely interested in anything that doesn’t have the name ‘Sugarsong Lulamoon’ on it. It’s been quite a few years since she released any new songs. Perhaps she’s becoming solitary and insane as she ages. Serves her right.
>But, now the sun is setting, and you’d like to return to your wagon before it gets too dark.
>The Manehatten nightlife is supposed to be unmatched, but what kind of loser goes club hopping by herself?! Not this pony.
>Hmmmm.
>Okay, you’ll buy yourself an even more expensive dinner and desert to help you follow through on your whole scheming plan. With food inside you, you think more clearly. With expensive food inside you, you think even more clearly. It only makes sense.
>You find what looks like a nice place called ‘Omelet Du Fromage’ and take a seat after a short waiting time. The place itself is fancy, or at least it tries very hard to be. Bright white exterior, bright goldish interior. The menu in front of you says a bunch of fancy words written in fancy lettering that describe some sort of fancy dish. It’s all mostly gibberish to you, so you only order the special once the waiter comes by.
>As you wait, your eyes begin to drift, and you notice all the ponies there. None of them are alone, like you are.

>If you didn’t know any better this would seem like a romantic place. Mares and stallions around the place sit across from each other, more focused on each other rather than their food. A same gender couple here and there. Something you don’t really understand, but you don’t judge for that kind of thing. Everyone in the room seems to be wearing formal attire while you wear a dirty cape. Nice one, Trixie.
>The appetizer comes and quickly goes, and you resume scanning the room.
>One thing is for sure, Eastern Stallions are too short. They didn’t used to be. What happened? All mares are less pretty than you, but you’ve always known that one.
>The main course only distracts you for a bit. As you finish this weird tomato slice and cheese thing dipped in basil, you have trouble drawing your eyes away from the empty seat across from you. Why doesn’t this place have a bar? Do they not realize how lonely you look like this? It’s almost pathetic. It does urge you to quickly finish off your dinner and desert, though.
>After paying the bill, you exit the restaurant.
>The sun has gone down, but Manehatten is still as bright as ever. It isn’t quite the center of the city bright, but neon signs line the rooftops and glass windows along the streets. What look like the same ponies walk down the streets, talking about frankly you don’t care. A decent sized group has decided to gather around and chit-chat in front of the alley where your wagon lies.
>You simply shove your way through and enter the wagon.

>Nothing in particular looks any different, meaning Anonymous hasn’t wakened from his slumber.
>It’s a good thing you pulled him around town for a little bit, too. If he fell asleep in the early afternoon, his sleeping schedule would be completely ruined!
>Good job, Trixie.
>You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve lost points with Anon today, though. He snapped at you more than a grouchy stallion normally would, and it may be personal.
>And who was he hanging out with the night before?
>Vinyl Scratch.
>… Anonymous is right. You think about her too much.
>She is gone, for now.
>And you have Anonymous all to yourself.
>There’s no panic or need to rush. Tomorrow you and Anonymous will take a day off. No work, no distractions, only you, and him.
>You let out a content sigh at the thought, then curiosity builds within. You’re not sure why, but you want to take just a tiny little peek to make sure Anonymous is really asleep.
>Keeping your steps quiet, you slowly walk over to Anonymous’ door and crack it open.
>The sound of his light steady breathing is a good sign. He is still fast asleep.
>Still, your curiosity is still unappeased. You open the door completely. Anonymous’ face is still buried in his pillow, keeping the light from hitting his eyes. It’s a little cute how he’s balled up a little, but you notice his feet still touch the wall. The room really is too small for him, isn’t it?

>That small pang of guilt is something unfamiliar to you. Like, you’ve messed up and felt guilty before, but this is different. Anonymous has been living in a space that’s clearly too cramped for him, and never said a thing about it. Now you’re noticing it for yourself, and you wonder how he can live like this.
>The water stains and still prevalent mildew smell don’t improve the situation.
>Sigh.
>You can’t look at this anymore. You start closing the door, but something else catches your eye.
>The picture you gave Anonymous earlier today is now hanging on the wall. Albeit slightly crooked, but he put a couple nails in the wall before falling asleep again.
>Slightly taken aback by this, you find yourself having trouble averting your eyes.
>It’s only a picture of yourself. Nothing you’re not used to.
>But…
>…
>… Mmm.
>Mmmrph.
>You don’t know.
>But apparently your hooves do, as you take a few steps forward.
>A particularly loud creak makes Anonymous stir a little, but he falls back asleep within moments.
>Once your body feels like it’s close enough, you slowly lie down on all fours, quickly finding a somewhat relaxing position despite the hardwood floor. You scoot a few inches closer until you can almost feel the body heat coming off Anonymous.
>You don’t know what possess you here, but you actually scoot a few inches closer and gently rest your head on the floor.
>Yeah… This is nice. You can get used to this.

>But Anon clearly disagrees as he rolls over in his sleep, blasting you full force with his breath. The sudden stench causes you to get to your hooves and retch.
“I don’t think so.” You whisper under your breath before leaving his room for the night.
>But later that night as you sleep in your own very large bed, you can’t stop thinking of Anonymous’ current living condition.
>…
>Alright. Tomorrow, you’re sending out a letter.