Night has fallen over Equestria. Celestia had long since lowered the sun, making way for her sister Luna, who brought forth once again the brilliant silver sheen of her moon, and the awe-inspiring glow and twinkle of starlight.
All throughout Ponyville, the majority of its residents retired to their beds, happy to see the comfortable conclusion to yet another day of cheerful sunshine and hard, honest work.
The streets were quiet and empty, kept lit by the soft, warm glow of symmetrically-placed street lamps. Few creatures stirred in the unimposing darkness that did permeate the town, save for the occasional owl, and nocturnal scavengers looking for a quick snack from rubbish bins or the refuse piles of a few of Ponyville’s more lazy inhabitants.
However, the inherent sleepiness of the town was not as widespread as it would seem at first glance to the casual observer. A quick journey near to the center of Ponyville, would yield evidence of this almost at once.
A single building, a garment shop fashioned in the shape of a large carousel, stood tall and charming in the backdrop of the other cozy-looking, shadowy structures surrounding it. Most distinguishable about it was that, unlike its fellows, this fine establishment was still ablaze with lights and furious bustle despite such a late hour as this.
If anypony were to be so rude or inquisitorial as to peer into one of the glowing windows of the shop, they would soon discover the nocturnal activity to be the doings of one of the town’s most upstanding citizens, and indeed one of Equestria’s most renowned purveyors of fashion and vetements exquis.
“Oh, no, no, no, no! This simply won’t do at all!” Rarity exclaimed in a pleasantly charming, yet extremely frustrated voice. “They all look so good on the drawing board, but when they finally reach the floor for actual production, they fall too short of expectation!”
Accompanying her voice was the frantic snip-snip sound of cutting scissors, the unreeling of delicate fabrics, the repetitive clamor of her sewing machines, and the jingling of precious gems as they were levitated towards the garments they were to be set into.
“Again, and again, and again with the imperfections!” Rarity sigh in dissatisfaction. “Too shiny.” Rarity herself was multi-tasking at a frantic pace, diverting her attention between one dress after the other in front of her on the table. “Hmm, too frilly.”
The alabaster unicorn’s normally graceful and well-kept mane was in a noticeable state of disarray. “This one’s not the originally planned length!” She continued her work, muttering and making remarks on quality.
“Too... Ugh, I shan’t describe this one at all. The words required would be too...unladylike for my tastes.”
This process continued as it had been for much of the day, until finally at one point, Rarity let out a sigh of defeat. All work around her abruptly ceased. Equipment, gems, linen and fabric all telekinetically returned to their usual places, while the sewing machines halted, leaving the entire main room largely quiet.
With another sigh, more pronounced then its predecessor, Rarity removed the glasses she had been wearing for the majority of her work and carefully set them down on the table. Pouting her lip and narrowing her sapphire eyes, Rarity looked around the room to see the progress she had made.
Several dresses, tuxedos, and similar garments–at least two dozen in all–laid scattered all around her, many in varying states of completion or revision. Much to her chagrin, the neat piles of finished and Rarity-approved apparel were far out shadowed by the sheer amount of completed clothing she deemed flawed. This flawed category could be further divided up by the ‘barely fashionable’, to the ‘what was I even thinking?’, all the way ‘the unmentionables’ subsections.
“How positively smashing!” Rarity proclaimed sarcastically. “Largely done, and every last one completely sub-par!” She raised a foreleg to her head, groaned, and gazed up at the ceiling. “There’s no way any of these hideous things would please the clients in Canterlot! Those aristocrats expect nothing but the best!”
Rarity arose from her seat and assumed a dramatic pose as she continued to survey the results of her fourteen hour-long labors. “More importantly, Rarity expects nothing but the best from her creations! Anything of lower caliber is hardly worthy of being worn, if one garment, more suitable, can take its place.”
The ‘flawed’ garments brought a deep frown to the fashionista’s face, and she said, “Woe is me, but such is the hardship of the trade is it not! If only I were to have a helper! Someone who could fill in for dear Spikey-Wikey at times such as these. Ah...if only....”
Musing about the potential of having an extra pair of hooves or an extra horn to assist her almost turned Rarity’s frown to a smile, until she finally realized it was not currently a reality. However, just as Rarity reluctantly positioned herself to continued the arduous work, the universe decided that the highly talented seamstress had definitely earned a break for her hard work, marred so as it was by her overzealous pursuit of seemingly unattainable perfection.
Rarity was just in the middle of the delicate process of inlaying another amethyst into an intricate blue and silver dress as a loud chiming noise distracted her out of work mode. It was the musical bell notes of her front doorbell, used only after hours when Carousel Boutique would normally close, which was hours ago.
“Goodness, what pony could possibly be visiting at such an insane hour? Hmm, night owl shoppers attracted by the lights perhaps.” Another possibility proposed itself in her mind, and Rarity rolled her eyes in dubiousness. “It better not be Pinkie Pie pulling some kind of prank again, that over the top mare knows I’m desperately busy this time of the month!”
Muttering about the entire myriad of possibilities as to who the visitor could be, Rarity was completely unprepared for what greeted her as she opened the front door.
With her eyes closed kindly but tiredly, Rarity said in greeting, “Why, hello there kind sir or madame! What brings you to Carousel Boutique so late? Would you like to place an order, or peruse my selection perhaps? My garments are some of the finest in all the...” Rarity had finally opened her eyes, which widened in shock. Her suave voice cut off abruptly as she stared at her visitor in all its strange quality.
In front of her doorbell, was a pile of hastily-stacked cardboard boxes, newspaper bundles, and other small flat-topped objects serving as a sort of impromptu tower leading up to the bell button. This of course, wasn’t what threw Rarity’s greeting off, however. What did, was the thing occupying the top-most box of the tower, the visitor itself.
Still speechless, Rarity analyzed the thing in detail. It was what Rarity could only describe, as an appendage. Something Spike would call...a hand.
Quite unlike Spike’s own hand however, this one possessed five digits. Also unlike Spike, the digits were not talons, but rather fingers, each ending in pleasantly-groomed pink nails. The skin of the hand was pale and light brown, while its wrist bore the form of a shining golden watch wrapped around it. Quite inexplicably, the appendage seemed to be completely on its own, with no body, or even an arm within sight.
Rarity was nearly about to scream and gasp from the sheer absurdity and ghoulishness of such a sight as a disembodied limb, only to be struck frozen instead when it suddenly did something remarkable. Muscles tensed and flexed, and the hand quickly animated to life.
Moving its fingers about like a spider, the hand turned to face Rarity, somehow detecting and registering her presence. Using its wrist almost like hind legs, the hand raised all five fingers into the air, and waved cheerfully at the unicorn, seemingly in greeting to her.
Now more astonished then frightened, Rarity drew slightly closer to the hand. “Heavens! What in the world might a thing like you be doing here?”
Seeming to understand her, the hand tapped a few fingers as if in thought, then suddenly pointed at her. Rarity raised an eyebrow in confusion, and followed the hand as it now pointed past her to the room inside. “So you...wish to come inside?”
Briefly tilting to the side, the hand held its thumb up into the air. Rarity was unfamiliar with the gesture, but based on the evidence available, she decided to interpret it as a definite ‘yes’.
Still blinking with surprise, Rarity hesitated before saying, “Well why not then? You must be cold dear, what with being out there in the frigid night air like that. Come in, come!” Rarity smiled at the hand and motioned her hoof insistently through the doorjamb. The hand appeared to do some kind of dance of appreciation, using its fingers like legs in a chorus line, before carefully leaping off the stack of items and scuttling past the door under Rarity’s legs into the front room.
For a few seconds as she looked out into the dark, quiet streets, Rarity pondered whether or not inviting the mysterious hand, something so outlandish, into her shop might be asking for trouble. Noting that stranger things have happened around her before however, she quickly discarded the thought and entered. The shop bell rung lightly as the door shut itself in her purple aura.
“Well then. Normally I would offer my kind guests a cup of tea or two, but seeing as you probably don’t drink things, you have my apologies.” Rarity laughed incredulously, watching the hand scuttle across the floor, which seemed to be exploring the room methodically, scouring intently for something.
“I say little guy, what are you up to?” The dressmaker inquired, half inspired by suspicion, and half by a curiosity all her own.
The hand’s response was a light clattering sound as it climbed the leg of a table and starting poking around the surface’s contents. It was messing with Rarity’s tools.
Suspicion overriding her curiosity, Rarity rushed over to the tabletop. “What in the world do you think you’re doing with my...” She was preparing to give the hand a stern lecture about guest politeness, when Rarity quickly noticed what the hand was actually up to.
“Sweet Celestia’s mane! What are you doing to that hideous dress? What will you do if its sheer tackiness corrupts your perfectly manicured nails, darling? I must insist, this garment is a lost cause, and...”
Rarity could now finally see what the hand had done to the dress. The unicorn’s face beamed with sheer delight. “My oh my! How did you know to even try that? The setting of the diamonds are positively divine!”
Enthusiastically, the hand bounced up and down. Rarity knelt towards the table to get a closer look at it. “May I ask if you have a name, dear?”
The hand held up its index finger, and then fumbled around for a piece of parchment and quill. Seeing what it was doing, Rarity quickly levitated an inkwell, quill, and paper towards the hand from a nearby shelf.
Wasting no time, the hand held itself up as if it were attached to a phantom arm, and scrawled something. Holding the parchment up to Rarity, she snatched it up read the words aloud.
“Huh, ‘Handyman’ you say?” Rarity put a hoof to her chin. “So you are some kind of assistant then, have you come to lend me a...hoof, er, hand with this mess of an order?”
The hand gave her a thumbs up again, and quickly scuttled off to the next garment that required modifications. Rarity followed the hand and got herself ready to get back to work. The fashionista was positively giddy with excitement. Rarity had just somehow acquired a new helper.
Perhaps the night could end on a more positive note after all.
