It was morning in Ponyville, one of those lovely days that it was universally known for. The moderate rain in the very early morning had been broken up precisely on time by Rainbow Dash and the Weather Team right on the dot of 6:30, just as Celestia kicked the sun up on the early spring day. Water was still glinting on various surfaces, and the new grass held the droplets precisely. They fractured the Guardian of Light in the World’s sunshine into tiny reflections of Ponyville’s most well known speedster. Who was now curled up on a branch in Applejack’s orchard, contentedly sleeping off the early job call.
Lyra and BonBon were walking through the early morning cool. The occasional exhaled puff of condensing water vapor could be seen here and there from the two mares as they passed through the odd chilly band of air still scudding around the shadows of homes and buildings, hiding from the warming sun. That the two of them were together was nothing of note; Lyra and BonBon had been married for a couple of years now, but the sound of heated discussion from them was.
“Greenbean, this really isn’t one of your brightest ideas,” Bonny said crossly. “Have you forgotten how much grief Equestria Daily put you through when they ran that exposé on you?”
“Pffftt,” Lyra said, boldly. “It was Equestria Monthy, Bonny. And the wheels came off that bunch after they took on Pinkie Pie. Celestia herself went down to the offices and had a talking to them." Lyra’s voice took on a quiet confidentially. “I heard she was glowing so bright, all the pictures on the walls faded.”
“Ly, this is not a good idea, really,” Bonny shot back. “Being friends of the Equestrian Heroines, and a pal of a demigoddess, however remotely, and it is remotely, no matter how many times she comes into my candy shop for lollipops, does not bestow upon you special immunity.”
“Our shop, Bonny. Married, remember?” she smiled brightly. BonBon made that special noise all married couples master within the first ten minutes after the ink dries on the license, the one incorporating a tongue tsk click, plus an annoyed sigh that signals almost terminal exasperation with a partner.
“How could I ever forget that, Greenbean, especially when you’re about to go completely off the deep end,” Bonny said. “Hopefully, Rarity will show more sense and tell you no.”
“But Bonny…if she can handle this one…think of all the fun ideas we could do with that other concept…you and me…” she smirked slyly.
“Stop it, Lyra.” However, BonBon was beginning to blush.
“Okay, how about one of those special deals for you, and I just stay me. It could be me doing me…” Lyra said wickedly.
BonBon stared daggers at her.
“Okay, strike that. I’ll get one, and it could be you doing you…”
BonBon facehoofed. “I am never allowing internet in our home again. As soon as we get home, I’m pulling the router out by its roots. You’ll have to go to the Cake’s with your laptop. At least you can’t figure out what their filter password is.”
“‘BonnyLurvsLyLy’ isn’t much of a password, you harpy. Don’t blame me that you’re easy,” Lyra said, grinning like a manticore.
“I wonder if Rarity has a table she wouldn’t mind me banging my head against for an hour?” Bonny asked rhetorically to nopony in particular.
“Hey, don’t blame me that I’m married to the ‘Sexiest Mare in the World’, Candygirl,” Lyra counter offered. “Besides, she has dressing rooms,” Lyra postulated, wagging her eyebrows.
“Okay…we’re not doing that. Ponies in Ponyville are accepting and tolerant, but I’m not pulling that one, particularly on Rarity. ESPECIALLY with Sweetie Belle around. Behave.”
Lyra’s face fell. “But Bonny…” she started to say.
“Look I’m going along with this idea of yours for that outfit you have in mind; and note, it’s under protest, but I am. That does not include us playing house, and me pretending to be the front door and you slamming me all day and night in Carousel Boutique.” BonBon relented as she saw Lyra beginning to pout. “We’ll go home first, and flip a coin. Celestia, you be the door, Luna, I will. Got it?”
Lyra wrapped aquamarine lips around a cream colored snout. When she broke the kiss, both of them were flushed in the face.
“Woo, baby. Definitely later,” said BonBon huskily. Lyra started grinning again.
A few more seconds later, they were at Rarity’s fashion palace, Carousel Boutique. The well-known Ponyville fashionista was becoming famous all across Equestria; first was the Grand Galloping Gala dresses she made for her friends; not those first ones, the second ones Hoity Toity saw at her Boutique. Acclaim for those, and that incredible outfit she wore at Fluttershy’s runway with Photo Finish, plus others she created soon led to Rarity’s Bridleway debut and a First Place win as an up and coming designer on last minute improvised clothing. Then it was her collaboration with Coco Pommel, costuming Hinny of the Hills. Word got around on that success, and then Rarity picked up the costume production for Sapphire Shore’s Equestrian tour; also turning out to be a resounding success. All these reasons led Lyra to deciding to jump in with all four hooves right now, before it became almost impossible to book time with the rising star.
“You’re still going through with this, aren’t you, Greenbean?” BonBon asked resignedly.
“Now more than ever, Candygirl.” Lyra held the door open for Bonny, who sighed, then went inside. Lyra followed right behind.
Since this was a weekend, meaning no school, Sweetie Belle and Rarity were deep into discussion together as Rarity put different colors of ribbon across a layout table. They looked up as the bell above the door announced the two new mares.
Rarity smiled brightly, the red glasses she wore when doing detail work in place on her nose.
“Hello, ladyfillies! So glad to see you, and right on time! Be right with you in a second,” she said warmly.
She turned to Sweetie Belle. “And this one?”
“Orange,” the filly said, exasperated.
“Oh, no dear, this one is Tangerine, see the slight rosy highlight in it? And this one is Pumpkin, this Melon, and this Sunrise. See?”
Sweetie Belle held one up defiantly. “And what’s the fancy pants name for this one?” she asked, rebellion creeping into her voice.
Rarity took it up. She turned it first one way with her magic aura, then the other, then turned it and held it higher up in the light. “Um…I think…this one is…Orange. Orange Orange.”
“See? I told you!” she said loudly. Sweetie Belle swept the samples back up, put them back into the box with her own magic. She grumbled under her breath as she left to put them away. “Dumb names for dumb ribbons…”
Rarity pretended not to hear as she went to greet the newcomers.
“How are you two doing today? I hope this wasn’t too early to start; I want to leave you two plenty of time to let me help you with your choices. We definitely shouldn’t rush these decisions, my dears; frequently, haste at this point can lead to serious failure later.”
“Oh, no problem Rarity, and thanks for your assistance on this. Cooking and candymaking I’ve got down cold. Clothing, sewing, and design…not so much,” BonBon said calmly. “I wouldn’t think you would have time for projects like this, nowadays. Especially after Sapphire Shore’s Equestria Tour now starting.”
“I wouldn’t think of it, my dears! Ponyville has been so generous to me and Sweetie Belle, why, I just couldn’t turn my back on it. It’s too important to us.” Rarity floated a pencil, a piece of paper, and a tape measure to her. The tape draped itself behind her neck, and the paper and pencil floated just alongside her.
“Your phone call was just so mysterious, Lyra…you said you needed something unusual for a gathering somewhere? Is it casual, formal, what?” Rarity asked, getting down to business. Once niceties were satisfied, she always loathed wasting a client’s time. This was no exception.
“I need…a costume. A very unusual costume,” Lyra said quietly. Now that the moment of truth was here, she found her hooves freezing up.
“Ooh, a costume! I’ve had so many of those starting to come through the door after Sapphire Shores. It’s a good thing to start now, Nightmare Night is going to be so busy for the weeks leading up…”
“Not for that, Rarity,” Lyra interrupted gently. “For a con…”
“A con? What’s a con? Is this like those old stallions that wear those idiotic fezzes and drive the miniature chariots? You could just buy one of those…”
“Not quite. A convention. A Humanworld convention. About a month and a half from now at Canterlot. I need a human cosplay costume,” Lyra said, calmly for once.
Rarity stared at Lyra, the tape hovering patiently along with the paper and pencil, as she looked at her. “Really, I don’t know what those are, darling. I’ve never made one. I can try to sketch out the details, but you’ll have to show me what it is you want…”
“No need… I have art already done. This is what I want to wear.” Lyra floated a picture out of BonBon’s saddlebag to her as Rarity re-settled the tape on her neck and put the pencil and paper down on the layout table.
Rarity stared, intrigued. A handsome…stallion? What was it that Lyra said? Man, yes, that was it…dark hair, deep, dark eyes of blue, rakishly handsome…for a human.
The clothing was very unusual. Tan in color with a pinkish overtone, it resembled some sort of uniform more than anything else. There were embroidered patches, some metal bits that looked like insignia, a black tie, black belt, an odd hat reminiscent of an antique Wonderbolt uniform that made the creature look like his head was being attacked by a large green disk…
“Ummm...”
“That’s a guy ponies call ‘Elvis’…he was in the military in this era, and the girls really went for him. I wanna look like that,” Lyra said, a *squee* of a smile on her face as she looked at Rarity.
“Darling…I can certainly do the clothing and soft goods part, even the embroidered patches with time, but I have absolutely no idea where you can get those metal parts.”
“No problem…I already have them all. There’s a stallion online…”
BonBon decided to interject at this time. “There’s all sorts of this stuff online. I almost have to monitor her to make sure she eats, drinks, and visits the bathroom on a regular base. They even have the clothing, but it looked so silly and ill-fitting, she wanted to ask you. You know how she gets about this.”
Equestria Monthy had been publishing stories about unusual things happening in Equestria, things that even in a magical society seemed bizarre and sensational. EM made a good chunk of change off those first articles; enough, in fact, to change their focus from ‘general interest monthly’, to ‘supermarket checkout tabloid’.
EM especially took note of Lyra’s obsession with the Humanworld fandom; she had sold it to them in the first place. The reaction was swift and predictable; because they also launched an editorial article in that edition questioning Lyra’s sanity that turned out SO fantastic, nopony bought it, except for Lyra herself, though Rarity’s close friend, Princess Twilight Sparkle ended up talking to the Canterlot Symphony to let Lyra keep her job as Harpist, because they were so squeamish about the publicity.
It put them in a bind for another blockbuster story for the bottom line, when they decided to try framing up Pinkie Pie as some sort of hyperactive sugar addict. That ended up backfiring immensely as well. Problem with it was, almost everypony with a personality knew Pinkie Pie, had been invited to a Pinkie Pie Party™, or had been, or more importantly, would be the hopeful recipient of one in the future; they were willing to overlook the pink mare’s odd antics, unusual senses, or how she always looked like she was playing up to an unseen audience.
That brought down circulation drastically, as well as provoking a visit by Princess Celestia herself. They were still around, after a fashion, but busy now chasing slendermane sightings, Discord worshipers, and furtive whisperings of vampire fruit bat ponies.
Rarity looked at Lyra. “Do you have others, Lyra? I could use some more concept art, then we can take your measurements...”
Lyra levitated a good sheaf of paper out of BonBon’s saddlebag, put them on the table. “Uh-huh, lots of them…”
There were all sorts of drawings and art in the pile, not just the ones for Lyra’s character. More men, in sharp suits and ties, creases so clean they looked like they could cut paper, with low slung, smart-looking hats tipped and raked on their heads. The…women?...had clean lined, elegant dresses…
“Lyra…” Rarity began, “What are all these other pictures?”
“Oh, those. I was trying to get a feel for the culture at that time. Humans back then would even dress up to eat dinner at their own house! It’s so stylish an era…”
Rarity knew she was speaking, but wasn’t listening anymore. There was one picture…
A human female. Palomino to almost platinum blonde mane…hair…wearing an absolutely stunning dress. Sleeveless, with a plunging neckline on the bodice, wrapped material self belt tied on the left, and amazing soft pleating throughout. The woman was fantastic, iconic, even. The dress perfectly complimented that. The hemline was being lifted into the air, forming gorgeous wings. It was incredibly eye-catching.
This is why she had gone into designing for in the first place. To make something so incredible, that it would last as long as Celestia and Luna moved the sun and moon. And here it was, on a Humanworld character.
“Marilyn,” said Lyra quietly.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Lyra. I lost my train of thought.”
“Marilyn. That picture. That’s the One. Nopony has ever pulled that one off in cosplay. Ever.” Lyra took it, set it on the table. “Players have tried over and over to hit that look. It’s Nirvana, Rares. Shangri-La. Unobtainable.”
“Oh, my….” Rarity shook herself.
“Hard to even find white dresses…” Lyra started to say…
“Ivory.”
“What?” asked Lyra.
“Ivory. Very light ivory. Rayon/Acetate crepe. Bias cut, with sunburst pleating. Something…unusual to hold the pleating. I wonder…”
“Wonder what?” asked Lyra, intrigued. BonBon was watching, too.
“Why these unusual bulges at the chest? I’ve never seen…”
Lyra started to chuckle.
“Darling?” Rarity asked, nonplussed.
Now both Lyra and BonBon were laughing loudly.
“Would you mind informing me as to what the joke is? I like to laugh as much as the next mare…”
“Sorry, Rarity. ‘Mare’ is the operational word here,” BonBon said, still giggling. “Mare, as in mother. As in…”
“How do you feed a human baby, Rarity? Exactly like you feed a foal…just higher.” Lyra said, sniggering.
“Oh.” The light came on so bright, it broke. “OH! You mean…” Rarity said as she gestured down low with a hoof.
“That’s us, babe. Aim higher,” Lyra snickered. The hoof wandered upward.
“Warmer.” BonBon said. A muffled *snort* came out of Lyra, who was starting to blush.
The hoof continued to travel upward. Now BonBon was getting red.
“Only when you’re older. Still a bit more lift there when you’re younger. Warmer…” BonBon continued. Lyra looked fit to burst.
The hoof started to reach the proper level.
“About there, Ly-Ly?” BonBon asked.
“Take off another five or six years,” she giggled. The hoof drifted slightly higher…
“BINGO!” the couple shouted as Rarity finally reached the approximate level. They started laughing again, blushing mightily.
So was Rarity.
“You two are perfectly awful! I’m mortified!” Rarity said, embarrassed but wryly amused.
“Nuh-uh. You’re gorgeous, Rarity. We get it about good-looking mares. Trust us.” Lyra said, grinning.
“Oh, you two!” She laughed, too. “Fine…just for that, I’m keeping these until I finish it,” she said, as she gestured to the pictures.
Lyra smiled brightly. “Go ahead, Rarity…I have entire hard drives filled with those…”
“Well then,” she said, as the paper, pencil, and tape measure floated back. “Time for measurements. Shall we?” she asked.
Later on, Sweetie Belle had thrown on her CMC cape and launched out the door looking for Apple Bloom and Scootaloo over at Applejack’s farm and the CMC Clubhouse, grateful to finally be escaping the nightmare of similar-colored ribbons. Opalescence had arranged herself on Rarity’s bed beneath her favorite sunbeam for a nap, bored to tears whenever Rarity started sewing.
Rarity had a few sheets of pattern paper pinned onto an Adapt-A-Size dress form she had set to mimic Lyra’s proportions accurately. Adapt-A-Sizes were expensive tools, just like her Marenina sewing machines, all three of them, but they were a joy to sew with, and they seemed to go out of their way to make her job easier every time she used them. Same with the Adapt-A-Size forms; somepony spent too much time at a buffet, she could dial in the increase effortlessly. On a fitness jag? She could turn away inches in a flash.
They were some of the upgrades she applied with some of the new money now coming in. She and Sweetie Belle actually did pretty well financially, for the most part. There were always the unexpected costs, like that unexpected blip in her insurance for the Boutique shortly after Twilight and the rest of the Elements of Harmony, including her, started dealing with the various unknowns that popped up at times around Ponyville here and there.
Princess Celestia had handled that one; it seemed that if the very protectors that lived in Ponyville were being charged extra for their insurance; due to various creature-made disasters, unforeseen events, and Acts of Princesses that were to be blamed for the raising of those rates, then it should follow that said insurance companies should be grateful to pay subsidization to the Element Wielders for when the events fell precipitously; as guardians and protectors of their client’s properties. And she would be more than happy to collect such subsidies on their behalf as part of the company’s tax structure.
They gave up. Almost immediately.
She put money into her tools, and away for the future. But she really didn’t do too much other than that. They were on the cusp of being financially stable from now on. Just a bit more.
Rarity called her material supplier in Manehattan, and pulled her color wheel out just before he answered the phone. Cloth Bolt had one just like it on his warehouse floor, and they had settled in seconds on a perfect nyco twill for Lyra’s outfit that matched Rarity’s picture just right. The green wool blend for the hat was a bit more elusive until Bolt found a remnant that matched fairly close, though it was a tiny bit greener than the strange hat she was looking at.
Cloth Bolt assured Rarity that he’d walk the fabric right over to shipping and have it prepped for pickup. Rarity was about to thank him and hang up to give Derpy a ring for a special pickup as usual, when she saw the picture again…
“Bolt, sweetheart…I’ve got a hard one for you. Head on over to your evening wear/cocktail dress material. Something’s biting at me, and I think I want to scratch at it.” She paused, then the voice came back on the phone. “You over there, darling? Wonderful. Pull your wheel out, and let’s see if we can find this. I need your Rayon/Acetate crepe rack. Ivory. No, not that, too much yellow. Not that one either, too far into brown. Try shade 2 or 3….”
The pause got longer. Rarity was just about to drop it altogether, when the voice on the other end came back, excited. “Really? How much…wait, how many yards did you say you have of that, again?” She started her brain calculator. “It's close, darling, this one was bias-cut. Yes, I know. Yes. How long have you been holding on to that? Goodness! What’s the blend ratio? Cotton, too? Amazing. I needed that, I’m doing sunburst pleating. Grab it all up, I’ll take it. Why the low pricing, Bolt? Well if you’ve been sitting on it that long, I do appreciate you discounting it so I can clear you some warehouse space. I’m sending my usual courier. Now, don’t be that way, Bolt, she hasn’t crashed through your loading dock in two years. Be kind. Yes. Yes, on my account. You’re a sweetheart, Bolt. Love and kisses, sweetie, you’re the best. Bye.”
“Well, how do you like that?” she said to herself as she hung up the phone. “A bolt of just the right material, sitting in Cloth Bolt’s warehouse in the climate controlled area, for years.” She shook her head. “Incredible.”
She turned her head, powered up her horn. A covered dress form floated out of the back, took up sentry next to her layout table, as she lifted the cover off.
This one wasn’t an Adapt-A-Size. As precision as that tool was, this one was even more so. It was a harsh taskmistress, demanding exacting work from the user.
It was a custom-made form, and it was hers. This wasn’t made to measure…she slid into a bath of mold release that day, had the smelly goo smeared everywhere, though she had handled the most intimate details herself. Then she was immersed into a reactant liquid, which was triggered off the goo to harden fairly quickly, about an hour or so of her standing absolutely stock still. Her nose started to itch immediately when she went into the tank. The company providing this service sympathized; they hired ponies to handle all those silly details while the stuff set.
Once hardened, the mold was split into the proper sections to allow her to get out of it, and then married to the claustrophobic head and neck piece she had done earlier. While she scrubbed the materials from her body in the shower, the molds were checked for any voids that might have happened while curing, and had those repaired. The interior was wiped down and very gently sanded smooth with minimal material removal. Then the entire thing was married back up, and a positive cast from it in firm foam over a precision plastic armature. It was then covered in a durable, slightly stretchy fabric to hold pins precisely. Part of the service was they kept the original mold as long as the storage fee was paid; which meant a new form could be made easily if needed. As a bonus, after five years or so, you could return for a new body casting just for material cost alone.
It was literally her, or at least the closest thing that ponies could make. As costly as Adapt-A-Sizes were, this thing was almost an exorbitant luxury. But she would frequently be her only model for clothing she might create, and she wanted them to fit like precision machine parts did. This guaranteed such precision.
“Well, Rares, it’s that time again, dearest.” She patted the form on the head. “It’s time for Magic.”
A week later, and Rarity was almost insane with the stress.
“I’m just beside myself with disappointment, dearest,” she said to Aloe as the spa pony finished the seaweed wrap and buried her in the mud bath, a towel wrapped around her mane. Two cucumber slices, fairly thick ones to hold the chill in them from the refrigerator, settled on her eyes, the only things on her face not covered with avocado mask. A small carton of vanilla oathay ice cream waited patiently at the edge of the tank.
“Why is that, Miss Rarity?” Lotus asked, as she worked on Rarity’s hooves.
“I cannot find the proper balance with this dress! Standing on my rears, the flow of the material is perfect. I can walk onto the grate and have the air vent blow the skirt up exactly as in the picture. But I can’t walk around like that all day; it’s miserably tiring and uncomfortable. When I walk normally, the front of the dress’ hem drags on the ground, and that simply will not do! It was hard enough to design an adequate enough chest to lift the bodice properly, and if I’m not careful, it looks like I’m trying to carry two grapefruit in a sling.” She sighed, slumping down into the warm gooey solution.
“No wonder they say this thing is the epitome of costuming. Somepony manages to pull this off, you could end up working in all sorts of places in this industry.” She sat pensively, the cucumber slices hiding her emotions, which were definitely off-balance.
“Um, Rarity… can I join in?” came a soft voice nearby.
“Oh, Fluttershy! It’s so good to hear your voice, and once this treatment is done, I will certainly like to see that dear face connected with it. Please, join me,” she said happily.
“Thank you,” said the soft voice. “Oh, goodness, this is warm! I feel like just melting away...”
Rarity never forgot her manners. “And how has your week been so far, dearest?”
“I actually got to sing in front of the colts and fillies at the school yesterday without getting nervous,” Fluttershy said happily.
“Oh, no…the Ponytones. Oh Celestia, I forgot completely about it, Fluttershy! I’m so sorry…” Rarity said, aghast. She hated to miss out on commitments.
“Oh, don’t worry, Rarity. I know you’re very busy with that project of yours. Besides, it was time to take another baby step.” The voice beamed with warm pride. “I did it, too! It was so much fun, Rarity, to be able to sing in front of the children without stage fright.”
“Oh, darling, I wish I could have been there to see it, too…” She slumped even further down, disappointed. “You’ve worked so hard to get there…”
“Uh, speaking of working hard…is there something I can help you with? You seem so worn out…”
Rarity went to great lengths to appear dazzling at all times. For somepony to mention she seemed ‘worn out’ made her wince. The slumping deepened.
“Futtershy…I’m positively stumped. I have a project I’m working on, a secretive one. I’ve reached a wall on it, and I seem to not be able to get over it. It’s SO disappointing; and to miss your moment…I want to put it up and never look at it again, now.”
“No.”
Rarity levitated the cucumber off of her eyes, stared at Fluttershy. “I beg your pardon?”
“I would never have even considered the Ponytones without you, Rarity.” She smiled shyly. “After Photo Finish, I swore I’d never stand up in front of anypony ever again. It was just a tiny step you missed. There’s lots more still to go yet.” She tapped the tips of her front hooves together nervously. “I want to help. I learned a few more things around Photo Finish that I hadn’t known about before. Maybe I can suggest something.”
“Well, a fresh set of eyes might help.” She returned the cucumber to where it belonged, sighed as she leaned back. “Would you consider coming over after our appointment here?” she asked warmly.
“Of course,” Fluttershy said, smiling.
An hour and a half later, the two friends were at the Boutique. Fluttershy watched as Rarity walked around on her back legs, the dress she created swishing about her as she walked.
“Goodness! That…is amazing, “ Fluttershy raved, or at least as much raving as the reticent pony raved about things.
Rarity took the moment while Fluttershy’s attention was fully on the outfit to step on the effects grate she had ‘John Doo-Smith’ build for her. She pushed down on the trigger section with her right rear hoof…
Fooomphhhh!! The baffled air blast shot out from under the grate, precisely quantified and focused to lift the skirt exactly as Rarity had calibrated through trial and error. The sound was a bit loud in the Boutique, but nowhere near the original cannon shot it was before she turned it down.
Rarity used her forelegs to hold the skirt’s front edge demurely in place, exactly as ‘Marilyn’ had. However, the sudden gust had picked up the material of the dress hemline precisely as she wanted, lifting and spreading the sunburst pleats into diaphanous wings around her body. Fluttershy was too overwhelmed to react much to the sudden sound.
“Rarity…that…was…amazing!” Fluttershy gushed, her eyes wide with astonishment. “It’s perfect!”
“Not so perfect, Fluttershy,” said Rarity glumly, as she dropped back down to all four feet. The dress, so perfect and alive a moment ago, was now collapsed, the front hem in a small pile just in front of her rear hooves.
“See?” she said.
“Oh, my goodness…”
Rarity gathered the dress up as she sat down on a cushion, and then arrayed it around her, the edges just floating free of the floor. Her face was crestfallen.
“There’s just not much more I can do, Fluttershy. I can fiddle a bit more on the seam easement, perhaps add a tiny amount of diagonal on the waistline to lift the front a bit more, even shorten it an inch, without destroying that essential float of the hemline…but even with all of that, it isn’t enough to keep it from puddling up underneath me. If I do what I need to keep it from dragging the floor, I kill what makes it so alive,” she said sadly.
“Oh, Rarity,” Fluttershy said, wrapping a foreleg around her friend’s neck. Rarity was on the verge of tears.
“I almost had it, that perfect look…” Rarity said, as she handed Fluttershy the picture.
Fluttershy looked at it. The female, Marilyn? Marilyn was slightly more crouched in the picture than what Rarity had been on the grate, but the same amazing wings had been produced, just as Rarity had managed to duplicate. In fact, the air flow had been turned up a bit more in the picture; the dress had lifted…
Fluttershy stared.
Then she stared harder.
If the picture had been an animal, it would have been begging Fluttershy to walk itself across a newly-formed lava field, rather than continue to endure the pressure.
“Rarity…what’s this?” She pointed.
Rarity roused herself long enough to glance at it. “Oh. Apparently these humans were given to wearing undergarments with their clothing. Those are something Lyra called, ‘panties’, I believe. There is an accompanying article called a ‘bra’, that supported their, er…” she gestured vaguely.
“Oh. Wouldn’t they get in the way of each other?” Fluttershy asked innocently.
Rarity chuckled ruefully; she couldn’t help it. “I thought so, too, until BonBon and Lyra explained it. Apparently humans have theirs in the chest area. It took a bit to design the halter on this dress to properly copy that. Having those constantly intruding in the way while you did things must have been tiresome. I feel a bit sorry for them in that regard.”
“Well, that sounds like they actually needed the ‘bra’ parts. What about this ‘panties’?” she asked quietly.
“I think in a lot of ways they’re very self-conscious, darling. Perhaps this is the reason why this ‘Marilyn’ put her hooves; pardon me, hands down in front at just the right moment when the dress lifted up. It’s the only thing I can think of for doing that. I was planning to make them just to be authentic to the original vision, before the whole idea collapsed…”
“Rarity.”
“Yes, darling?”
“Is there some way you could use this, ‘panty’, to suspend the upper part of the dress from?”
Rarity frowned. “Could you repeat that, darling? I think I had the sun in my ears…”
“Well…the entire problem is to keep the front of your dress off the floor when you walk normally, yet have it hang on the whole as naturally as possible when you raise up on your rear legs. Yes?”
“Of course.”
“Could you somehow tie the dress together with those ‘panty’ things in such a way that the part of the dress you’re having trouble with hangs off of that instead of from the waist, yet disappears enough to be unnoticed when you stand, especially with your forelegs over that part to hold the dress down?” Fluttershy asked reasonably.
Rarity stared at her in surprise. Quickly levitated a pencil and her sketchpad to her, she started drawing feverishly. A minute later, she stood up, almost tripping on the dragging front hem, as she kissed Fluttershy on the cheek, hugging her hard. A cute *eep* escaped from the bewildered but smiling Fluttershy.
“Absolutely brilliant, darling!! Look!” She showed Fluttershy where she could tie the underwear and the dress together along the pleats with a hoof full of small cordage, enough to lift the skirt front free of the floor, yet collapse completely and invisibly as she stood, the skirt material laying obediently along the ‘panties’. And none would be the wiser with her hooves in front, holding it down, as the air puff billowed the skirt. “You’re a genius!”
“Um… it looks a little complicated, though…” Fluttershy said quietly.
The white unicorn laughed. “Hello, have we met before? I’m Rarity, and I embody the term fashionista! And if you think I’m dazzling and brilliant, you should meet my friends!” She unzipped the dress with her aura, beckoned Rares from her special spot in the back room, the cover lifting off as it flew across the Boutique.
“Fluttershy, please stay. WE are about to make history, all of us, together! Let the MAGIC continue!”
Rarity checked into her room, as the bellpony struggled with the pile of luggage and the small rack of dresses. The Dress, however, was in its own bag, carefully prepared and lovingly nestled into it, and she was moving that with her aura herself. He almost collapsed as he brought in the air grate and its accompanying equipment.
Rarity shot him one of her dazzling smiles. “Oh, thank you, dear. A little something,” she said, as she handed him a good-sized gem. He grinned.
“Gee, thanks, Lady!” he cried, pocketing the large gem. The guy was thrilled; he’d been lifting all sorts of buckets, tubs, boxes, bags, and even paper sacks all morning long, and hardly had anything in tips for it. Something about hu-nerds seemed to make them the cheapest ponies in the world; maybe all their money went into their costumes. But this attractive white pony with the gems Cutie Mark somehow seemed different, plus, she tipped grandly. “You need anything else,” he gushed, handing her a calling card, “…ring the bell station.”
“Darling, you’re very sweet! I certainly shall,” Rarity said grandly, as the bellpony hustled himself out the door with his bag cart. Rarity gently closed the door behind him with her hoof.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and began setting up her room with her magic. Her personal clothing, including the special bag, went on the closet pole. Two suitcases went on the room supplied stands, and a third on one she had brought herself. The blonde tail went to the closet pole to hang down naturally. The heavy blond wig went on the headpiece on the vanity. Her makeup case joined it on the other side.
There was a knock on the door. She opened it, without pausing her own work. “Please, come in!”
Lyra and BonBon came in. “Hello, ladies. Give me a second, would you, please…?”
“Wow…” Lyra breathed, as several things whizzed by her face. “Got enough gear, Rarity?”
“I’m accustomed to roughing it on occasion, Lyra. I can muddle through.”
Lyra turned and looked at BonBon, who shrugged with a foreleg.
“There,” Rarity said, as the traffic suddenly stopped. “I have my initial setup done for now. I’ll finish the rest in a bit.”
“Are you ready, Lyra?” Rarity asked gently.
“Perfect. All set up and ready to go. I’m saving it for tomorrow.”
“And what are you planning to do around then, BonBon?” Rarity asked, a glint in her eye.
“Oh, just hang out. It’s pretty much her show, you know. It’ll be fun, watching all the ponies.”
“Well, I don’t agree. I have something I made, just for you. If you’re not comfortable wearing it as a costume, darling, you can always just wear it….” she said mirthfully, as a brilliant red dress floated out of her dress rack.
The dress floated over, draping itself over BonBon’s back. “Please, try it on. There was a female named Jayne Mansfield, who managed her own sensations, just like Marilyn did. I made this from one of hers.”
BonBon stared at Rarity. “Really?” she said, amazed.
“Go, now,” she said kindly. Lyra smiled gently.
BonBon gave Rarity a peck on the cheek, and went to the other room to put it on.
“You’re something else, you know that?” Lyra said to Rarity, smiling warmly.
“Oh, just wait…”
A few moments later, a glowing BonBon stepped sideways out of the room. “Ly…zipper,” she said softly, as she turned her back toward Lyra.
Lyra activated her aura, gently pulled the zipper up.
BonBon turned back, tears in her eyes.
BonBon tended toward looking slightly heavy, though she worked feverishly at keeping weight off. But Rarity had worked miracles, inflating where the human bosom would normally be, and then diving to the waist, flaring once more to the hips, ending in a sheath like trail. The entire thing was fairly tight, but it accented curves at the same time seeming to make BonBon drop fifteen pounds. It was brilliant.
And gorgeous.
Lyra stared at her, jaw hanging wide open. Rarity gently reached over and closed it.
BonBon was now crying openly. Lyra went to her, wrapped her foreleg around her as she hugged her.
“I told you you’re beautiful…”
“I know…” she sobbed. “I didn’t want to believe it. I thought you were just being kind. B-but…this…”
Lyra kissed her. For a long time.
After she pulled back, she smiled. “Rarity, you brought a dress bag for this?” Lyra asked lovingly, though the words were for BonBon.
“Of course, darlings.” She levitated it toward the couple, as Lyra gently unzipped and helped BonBon out of it. Rarity took over after she had it off, smoothing it out as she put it on the hanger, and then into its bag. She laid it gently across BonBon’s back, as Bonny dried her eyes.
“You’ll make a lovely couple,” Rarity said kindly.
“We already do,” said BonBon, smiling. “But I’m not wearing this here.”
“Why ever not, darling?” Rarity asked, perplexed, as Lyra stared.
“We have a third wedding anniversary in June. Greenbean is going to take me out celebrating. And I’m wearing this dress then. I have an entire town to make jealous.” She smiled at Lyra. “Right?”
Lyra nodded. “Whatever you want, Candygirl,” she said softly.
They went and hugged Rarity. “You’re an angel, you lovely mare,” BonBon said, holding her hoof as she looked into her eyes. “Thank You.”
They left, BonBon leaning against Lyra.
Well, that was unexpected, Rarity thought to herself. Unexpected…and welcome.
After she finished setting up her room and had rested a bit, Rarity went around the convention halls. Some ponies were in various outfits, a few even quite radical and intricate. A younger stallion walked by, wearing some sort of unusual olive-colored body armor, his face entirely concealed beneath some gold-visored helmet. Two more, a mare and a stallion, wore black bodysuits with glowing colored traces, round disks mounted over their right flanks, and those concealing the batteries powering the panels.
There were a lot of young ponies in what appeared to be uniforms; the fillies were dressed in very short skirts and vaguely maritime blouses, surmounted with kerchiefs. Some had rear leg boots that were as high as the stifle; others, sensible and attractive saddle shoes. Some had crowns, others just adorable ribbons in their mane. Ponytail braids abounded. The colts wore somber suits with high mandarin collars and military cut pants. A few wore what she learned later were feudal kimonos. She hadn’t seen anything like this in her pictures; she took a few minutes here and there to sketch willing models, whom she questioned about their costumes as she drew.
Others were wearing Mid-Age Equestrian attire, with tall conical hats and elaborately embroidered capes and dresses. Rarity was quite impressed with the quality and quantity of craft-work that some had lavished freely on their costumes. Hoofwork on heavy velvet was difficult, the beading and such even more so.
There were a few colts wearing dark shirts and trilby’s, the short brimmed hats that were similar to the ‘fedoras’ that were worn mostly by the men, (though a few flirty women got away with it, too, in the pictures), doffing the hats as they waylaid every mare they came across, with various cracking voices of, “Mi’lady,” and such, trying to appear worldly and sophisticated. She managed to get around the horde of tubby, unkempt stallions without being so propositioned. The first one of them that managed to corner her and try that, she knew she would simply burst out laughing at him, and she didn’t want to be unkind.
She did bump into a familiar figure.
“John Doo-Smith? What are you doing here?” Rarity asked.
‘John’ un-jackknifed himself from the chair he was sitting in, smiled nervously at Rarity. “Oh, having an evening about. Derpy wanted to come see. Since I was coming tomorrow to check your equipment before the contest, decided to come early instead and take in the sights,” he said, rubbing a hoof along the back of his head along his mane nervously. He was wearing his outrageously cool trench coat and usual white shirt collar, but this time, the tie was blue. “We haven’t been away in ages.”
“This is actually quite amazing, in fact. There are just so many unusual outfits here. These ponies have created such talented work.”
“They’re having a panel on the costuming tomorrow morning,” he said, handing her a flyer. “I thought I’d poke my muzzle in, see what was what involved in special effects. Rather enjoyed making that air thingy for you.”
“Are you coming in the morning to check it?” Rarity asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it. Oh, there’s the wife,” he said, as he waved at Derpy flying by the west wing. “Sorry, have to go. Give you a ring in the morning.” He sprinted off after his wife.
Rarity shook her head as he left. “Always running off, that one…”
A second or two later, he stood near Derpy, as he watched Rarity start for the restaurant. “Seen any yet?” he asked.
She sighed. “No metalized ponies, odd rhinoceros, pepper pots, lumpy potatoes walking around, or any others of the usual. Are you sure of this, John?”
“Has to be a reason we’re here early,” he said, as he buzzed around a bit with his Sonic Screwdriver. The result was inconclusive.
“How about, ‘to have a good time’. Isn’t that possibility factored in?” Derpy said heavily.
“Possibly. And the fat ponies?”
“Not a syllable of Raxacoricofallapatorian. And although there seemed to be a plethora of ‘gas exchange’ in the group, it wasn’t the right kind of wind breaking,” Derpy said, her nose wrinkling. That had proven to be very unpleasant, along with all the ‘Mi’lady’ business.
“Still, should keep a sharp eye out. Oh, look,” he said, pointing with a hoof, “…an unexplored corridor!”
He took off, the coat billowing behind him, red Con All-Stars flashing on his rear hooves. After a moment, where she let her eyes roll in exasperation as they wanted to, she followed.
Rarity found a cozy corner in the restaurant, and made herself at home while perusing the menu. Her call to Applejack’s had proven uneventful; although the three girls had been active in the morning around the farm trying various schemes to discover their Cutie Marks, the afternoon had been filled with lounging around their clubhouse, creating, then rejecting, all sorts of ideas, at least according to the whiteboard Big Mac had helped them mount on a wall last fall. Applejack had found them later that afternoon, snoring away, with several large bottles of apple juice scattered around them.
Rarity had chuckled at that.
She was working through a fresh but fairly ordinary salad when a butter yellow body and pink mane walked in.
“Rarity? My goodness, why are you sitting way back here in the dark?” Fluttershy asked, concerned.
“Waiting for you, of course,” Rarity chucked. “See? Even an open seat.” She gestured to the opposite chair.
“Oh, thank you!” Fluttershy pulled it out and sat down. “Did Bonny and Ly-Ly find you earlier? They said they were going to look for you the minute they got here.”
“Yes, yes they did. BonBon looked fantastic in that dress, I just knew she would! But she’s not wearing it tomorrow.” Rarity smiled.
“But, why?”
“The lovely dear put it away for their third year wedding anniversary. I was so shocked; you could have knocked me over with one of your feathers! To have somepony take your work, and reserve it for a special day in their life…I think I know now why Pinkie Pie gets so cheerfully serious about her parties…”
The two of them, following some unseen compunction, ran through Pinkie Pie’s favorite mantra regarding promises, laughing heartily as they both ended it with a gesture regarding an unseen cupcake being applied to an eye socket.
The waiter arrived, and took the newcomer’s order. Fluttershy turned her attention back to Rarity.
“And how, if you wouldn’t mind my asking, are you feeling about tomorrow?” Fluttershy asked softly.
“Nervous. But the good nervous. The nervous I usually get just before the curtain goes up.”
She chuckled. “That nervous just before…THE MAGIKS,” she said, laughing quietly, as she mimicked Photo Finish’s voice.
Fluttershy grinned shyly.
Rarity woke at her usual time, cleaned up and got ready, then left a message for John on his phone to run her down at the convention. Making her way downstairs to the breakfast bar, she made a light Continental breakfast and a decent cup of tea, as she read the program flyer John had given her yesterday. She picked the three panels she wanted to attend, (Costuming, Fan Fiction Writing, and Special Effects with Makeup and Mane). The costuming block was a two hour affair, but she was prepared to sit through the entire thing to understand how some of the things around her were being created.
Her first one in Makeup and Styling had proven to be mostly pedestrian, but a few special tips in preparation and application proved useful enough to take notes on.
The second, in Fan Fiction Writing, was terrible. The presenter was disorganized, and dull as toile to listen to. She had had Language Arts teachers in middle school that had more enthusiasm for the written word than this monotonous gelding. She decided to drop the panel at the mid-break, and wander around some more, rather than subject herself to any more laments of the dangling participle.
‘John’ was loitering around outside the room, along with Derpy. “Rarity!” she called out as she saw the fashion mare. Rarity walked over.
“Want to check that machine of yours now, luv?” ‘John’ asked enthusiastically. Derpy shushed him with a gentle hoof against his lips.
“If you’re not busy, that is,” said Derpy sweetly.
Rarity laughed. “If it saves me from one more pedantic demagogy sentence, I’ll gladly lead the way.”
“That bad, huh?” Derpy asked.
“Much worse, darling. I know ponies volunteer to put these panels on, but there should be some sort of test for basic competency in the subject. This one was tearing your mane out awful,” she said as she led the little group to her room.
‘John’ fell on the little machine the minute the door opened, draining moisture trapped in the main air tank, and inspecting the inline filter for too much oil. Satisfied as to their cleanliness, he went on to the pressure regulator and distribution manifold.
Derpy watched him with amusement. “Always fiddling with his gizmos,” she said warmly.
“Rarity, are you quite certain this is enough volume? I could always…” started ‘John’…
“NO!” said both mares loudly. Derpy recovered first from the resulting laughter.
“Jinx, you owe me a soda, Rares,” she said, chuckling.
“Later tonight, at the bar, then. No, John, if you haven’t changed any of the settings, it will be perfect. And beautiful. Let’s have a light bite to eat, and kill some time before the next panel.”
They went back downstairs and whiled away some time at the small takeaway café, which served astoundingly fine sandwiches and fizzy drinks for little money. Derpy collected on her soda now, smiling in bliss as she drank a marvelous thing with an honest peach flavor.
The place was proving to be popular with everypony at the convention, and was doing fine business.
“John, you’re not eating. What’s wrong?” Derpy asked.
“Pears.”
“I told you that they had pears in it,” Derpy said, slightly annoyed.
“I thought they were like Dinky’s pears. Not regular sandy, gritty pears.” He stared at the sandwich balefully.
“Oh, fine. Give it over,” Derpy said, as she traded sandwiches with him. She started in. “You should have kept this one, John. There’s a touch of honey in the dressing,” she said with amusement.
He glared at her a second, before sighing contentedly over the apples and cinnamon in his new prize.
“He’s so cute when he gets flustered,” Derpy said, grinning.
Rarity whispered to Derpy, “Is he always like that?”
“No, mostly it’s confused brilliance, interspaced with deep love, and occasional flecks of grumpy. You get used to it.”
They small talked through lunch, until just before Rarity and ‘John’ had to make the next panel. ‘John’ and Derpy both promised they wouldn’t miss the Costume Show. After all, ‘John’ had said, he wanted to see how well his little machine worked.
This one had a few more good nuggets of information which Rarity had written down, though the panelist was thoroughly self-assured in her superiority. She had developed a small following over a few conventions, Humanworld as well as various television, moving picture, and literary fandoms, but like Rarity had discovered in her own haute couture circle, it was very easy to let new found success inflate your real worth. And this mare had it in bushels.
During the presentation, the costumer had presented a slide featuring ‘Marilyn’ and The Dress, smiling slightly at the various oohs and ahhs the ponies there made at the presentation, then declared with finality that without magic, which most rules didn’t allow, the look was impossible to achieve on pony anatomy. She postulated haughtily that somepony always tried, with the usual embarrassing results, and if she couldn’t do it, it wasn’t able to be done.
Rarity took exception to that, and said so during the end Q&A period…
“Darling…don’t you think it premature to say that the ‘Marilyn’ is impossible, and that no pony should try to accomplish the impossible?”
“And you are?” she sniffed.
“My name is Rarity, and I run the Carousel Boutique in Ponyville.” Rarity replied firmly.
“Well, Rarity, if you knew anything about costuming, you would know that wasting time trying to do something impossible is not good for any developing costumers. Skills develop over time...” she went on, pointing with a hoof at the whiteboard she was drawing on with her aura…
Over in a quiet corner, ‘John Doo-Smith’ quietly but firmly planted a hoof against his face, as he stared at the oblivious, condescending mare.
“‘John,’ also known under the more unusual sobriquet, “The Doctor” by friends, and especially foes, foes and villains so frightening that the patronizing, arrogant mare would simply die of fright before them, was irritated by Rarity’s treatment. And he was having a difficult time keeping his anger in check.
Normally, this wasn’t a problem, as either the target was quite deserving of his antagonism, or the Grey Angel was close-by to slake the fires. But Derpy was at another panel, one probing deeply into theoretical probabilities and investigatory modalities of parallel universes. Universes where said ‘humans’ might actually exist, just to keep a hoof in the mathematics of it, and also to watch for talented ponies that actually had the skills to verify their theories. Those names went to Princess Celestia, who brought them in for a talk, and usually work at Canterlot University. Unfortunately, the group speaking now appeared to be the usual crackpots, seeing manifested aliens in camera-lens flares. Derpy sighed laboriously, wondering about the time left for her to endure this idiocy.
There was a substitute available for ‘John’, though. Rarity walked over to ‘John’, sat by him.
“S’ not right, that. This world owes everything to the lot of you…” he started, eyes lowering in anger.
“Doctor, you leave this be. She’s about to be sat down profoundly tonight over her treatment of others. This is my fight, such as it is. You will leave it to me to win it,” she said calmly.
‘John’ looked at her, then chuckled ruefully. “Amazing, that. I always seem to forget the six of you were hoofing up monsters all on your own before I showed up,” he chuckled.
“I sincerely appreciate your concern and chivalrous nature in regard to this, sir, I truly do. But I would reserve the right to fight for my own place, my friend. Should something truly inimical show up, we would be honored to fight through to the other side with The Onrushing Storm. But for these trivial skirmishes, I should wish to duel myself for my place.”
“Well said, Lady Rarity, the Embodiment of Generosity,” the chestnut stallion laughed. He bowed deeply. “Have at thy foe, verily! We shal’t observe thy victory on the field of…er…sewing?” he finished lamely.
“Oh, stop, you Mad Pony. You sound just like Princess Luna. Go find your dear wife, and have some fun for a change!” she said sweetly, bussing him on a cheek. He blushed.
“And as for you, darling,” she said under her breath, “…we shall see…” as she looked at the egotistical mare.
Rarity went to turn over the video and sound file for her presentation to the sound engineer, when she got another surprise.
“Vinyl!! What are you doing here?” she cried, as the two hoof-bumped. Vinyl probably never shook a hoof in her entire life.
“Yo, Rares…‘sup?” Vinyl said, still in rave mode. “I know the dude that was gonna handle your board for this gig; he came up sick…probably too much partying, if I took a guess," she said, pushing up the well-known glasses with her aura to get a better look, showing her red irises. “I told him I’d cover the geek and nerd fest for a percentage. What are you doing hanging out with the zoo ponies?”
“I found myself making a costume for Lyra, and got pulled in with a dress,” she said, laughing delightfully. Presentation was always important when doing a runway, and Vinyl was one of the best in the business.
“You shoulda known Lyra back in college, babe…mare was IN-SANE; thought she was gonna crash and burn back then…glad she kept it together.” Vinyl put her shades back on, looked at the flash drive. “What’cha layin’ on me?”
“I need this playing when I present it, Vinyl. Mood is very important with this one…”
Vinyl pulled the file up. “Babe, I hope you know what you’re doing…these ponies be crazy, sometimes.” she said, before she watched it.
She closed it, glanced at Rarity under the glasses again.
“Whoah. You go all in when you jump, don’t you?” she asked, impressed.
“Only way to play, if you’re going to play at all,” Rarity said with a smile.
“Hear that,” Vinyl said, dropping her shades down again as she floated over the presentation roster for a look. “Why did they slot you in the Amateur Cat, babe? You’re costuming for freakin’ Sapphire Shores. I’m not into her stuff, not enough bass without a remix for clubbin’, but she’s still large.”
“I’ve never done a convention before.”
“Their loss, babe. There’s bigger bits in the prizes for the Pros, but I got a ‘wave you’re not in this for the coin, are you?” Vinyl asked, peering at her again under the lenses.
Rarity smiled as she shook her head.
“And I got a front-row seat, too! Lissen…I’ll give you a bit more vol, the voiceover is kinda weak and background, and I think I can clean it up, push the hiss out even with this blunt post,” she sneered, indicating the sound board. “Wish I had my own gear, now. Lighting guy is all hooves; I’ll check your spots myself. Who’s your Effects pony?”
“‘John Doo-Smith’,” Rarity said.
“No way! I got an eight-inch pencil line linear burn on the side of one of my Marshalls from that pumped diode laser he tweaked at Dinky’s birthday party! Dude is Epic Cool on Effects!” Vinyl said excitedly.
“Nothing that energetic this time, darling. Just the air grate.”
“No explosions? Strobes? Pyros? Animatronics? Fog machine?” Vinyl asked, disappointed.
“No.”
“Not even just one tiny laser?”
Rarity shook her head, smiling.
Vinyl stared at Rarity hard. “Please, tell me there’s no disco mirror ball in this one…” she groaned.
“Not even a shiny sequin, darling.”
“Okay, we’re cool, then.” She ran some checks, floating a pair of headphones up toward her ears. “Gotta go, babe. Busy child. I got this. It’ll be aright when you hit the stage.”
“Love you, dear,” said Rarity, waving as she left.
Vinyl smiled at her, nodding to her internal rhythm as she worked the board.
Allies everywhere, Rarity thought to herself.
Friendship really is Magic.
She and the stage director went over her presentation later that day.
“Miss, where do you want your machine placed?” he asked professionally. Derpy and John, along with Rarity, walked the stage, looking at the various colored tape markers placed on it.
“This one?” Derpy asked, pointing at a small square. Rarity nodded.
“We’ll put it up on the Goldfish colored one.”
He frowned, then went to look at it.
“Oh, you mean the orange one? No sweat.” He looked at the two large ramps speculatively. “Are you two sure you don’t want some help placing those things? I’ve got a pretty good crew of grips, and they look kinda heavy.”
“No, not necessary at all, mate! They’re made of…” John started to say.
Derpy abruptly interrupted him with a punch to his shoulder, her eyebrows raised.
“OW! Oi, what was that for?” he cried, rubbing the spot with his other hoof.
Derpy’s eyebrows raised even higher, as she nodded at the stage manager. His eyes widened.
“…wood. Very lightweight, extremely stiff torsionally under load, balsa wood. Not a problem, easy peasy,” he finished lamely.
The stage manager smiled, shrugged. He went to check a power panel.
John glared at Derpy. “Could’ve just said something, luv, instead.” Rarity laughed.
“Oh, you two! Let’s go relax…we’re up in a few hours.”
Backstage, Fluttershy applied the blush and eyeshadow, then watched as Rarity put on the wig and tail cover. Rarity had already put on The Dress, and true to the rework, the front was lifted off the floor. When it was seen from the side, The Dress even had a level hemline when she was on all four feet.
“Oh, it looks just right, Rarity…do you want the earrings now?” Fluttershy asked.
“Yes, darling. They’re a bit gauche for my taste, these big round buttons, but they’re part of the look.” She put them on, then picked up the clutch purse, which had the pink hoofkerchief she needed inside. She had rigged the purse with a small carry strap she could stow away quickly just before appearing onstage, but made it much easier to carry it with prior to that. The high-hooved shoes on her rear legs were a bit unbalancing on all fours, but they were accurate to the look.
“Fluttershy…?” she asked, as she handed her the picture.
Fluttershy actually had a very good eye for details. Starting from the top of Rarity’s head, she checked them off, one by one, as she compared the picture to Rarity. She even re-checked the purse she had watched Rarity put the hoofkerchief in. As she reached the feet, she looked up.
“It’s perfect…Marilyn,” she said finally, beaming with a kind but bright smile. Rarity smiled back.
“OH! I have a surprise for you too, Rarity.” She looked over Rarity’s shoulder behind her…
Rarity turned; and found herself facing Photo Finish.
“MY! It’s so good to see you again, darling!” Rarity gushed as she recovered from her surprise quickly, taking Photo Finish’s proffered forehoof.
“I have come at the request of the Flootershy to see your vision, Rarity,” Photo Finish said, her staff in their jumpsuits watching the other contestants. “You have decided to attempt the Marilyn?” she asked, looking Rarity up and down.
“Why yes, darling!” Rarity said, with a great deal more confidence than she felt with the famous photographer in the room.
“Then I, Photo Finish, shall photograph this and record you for all time, as the Flootershy has asked. Come! We shall see…the Magicks! I go!” she said, as she took her aides in tow, moving out to the auditorium to set up.
Rarity stared at Fluttershy as she left.
Fluttershy lowered her eyes nervously. “Um…she owed me a favor. I decided to collect on it,” Fluttershy said quietly.
“When we finish up with this, you are SO going to get hugged!”
The stage director smiled grandly at her as he took in her costume. His head nodded to the count in his headphones, his hoof gesturing with each second, as the master of ceremonies did her introduction.
“…She’s here! Marilyn!” At the cue, the manager pointed out to the stage.
She walked out onto the stage, the seashell pink hoofkerchief in one hoof, the clutch purse in the other. Walking up the slight ramp, she stepped out onto the air grate, balancing gracefully on the high-hooved ivory shoes. The crowd was so quiet, her playback was bell-like clear.
“Ooh, can you feel the breeze from the subway?” she whispered in synchronicity, the voiceover from the audio track replacing her voice, as the video clip continued to unwind behind her on the screen. Her head was slightly down, he forelegs ready for just the right point.
The crowd gave a shocked collective gasp, staring in rapt attention…
She stepped down on the trigger. “Isn’t it delicious?” her head raising, forelegs just right, as the skirt billowed…
The crowd was in total astonishment…
“Oh, here comes another one!” She stepped down again and held it for a couple of seconds…
The skirt lifted even more, held its floating form as the hem winged like a Pegasus…and the crowd roared and stamped their hooves in applause. A small flash as Photo Finish triggered her camera.
Rarity walked off, stopping only long enough for a look over her shoulder, and a saucy wink, as she left the stage…
The place was in pandemonium. The stage manager stomped his approval as well, as John and Derpy pulled the equipment off the platform.
“Miss R, let me be the first to congratulate you on your win,” he said to her as she came off, as he offered a hoof.
“Me?” she asked, stunned.
“Miss, I’ve done this the last five years. I’ve picked the winner correctly last four of the five. Oh yeah, you have this. Trust me,” he said, grinning.
Rarity took the stage wing steps down to the auditorium floor where the previous contestant models waited for the results. The others stared; some stamped out applause too as the stage manager worked to get the audience calmed back down, some avoided looking at her, upset that they had apparently lost to a total newbie. The pony who had chaired the costume panel stared at her with daggers in her eyes.
A lean aquamarine face with military khakis on, and a slightly more rounded cream colored one carrying a silly green hat met her at the foot of the stairs.
“Wow, can you light up a room, Rarity!” Lyra said as she hugged her. She stepped back slightly, admiring the dress. “And to think I was here and watching when the wall came down. Bonny, come give the filly a hug!”
She did exactly that. “You’re up on a cloud higher than Cloudsdale, Rarity. Ponies will be talking about this for years. If my dress is even half as good as that one, I won’t be able to find Ly-Ly, there’ll be so many ponies green with envy in the room.”
“Darlings…I’ve never walked a stage alone before. I was always part of the girls. I finally had a little part of one of my dreams.”
A yellow Pegasi joined them. “Oh, that was EPIC!!” Fluttershy cried loudly. The three of them almost jumped and ran away startled. “Everypony just totally lost it! I’m so EXCITED!” she gushed.
“We noticed, Fluttershy,” Rarity said, smiling. Just then, two more ponies showed up.
Derpy just looked at her, smiling, her eyes shining. ‘John’ was a bit more talkative.
“S’perfect, luv. Well Done!” he cheered.
“You two were angels! Thanks ever so much!” Rarity said happily.
“She’s the Angel. I’m the Mad Pony in the Blue Box. And always willing to help, we are,” ‘John’ said kindheartedly. He gave her his huge, toothy smile. “And I won’t comment about that rot of slaying dragons, Lady Rarity. Spike would never forgive. But I think you’ve taken the field, oh yes, I do!"
The stage manager came down to the floor where the contestants waited, carrying his clipboard. “Okay…if I call out your name, I need you to stand over here on my right…”
He pulled out the finalists. “Okay. For the rest of you, thanks; but we have our finalists now. If you would, please, clear this spot so we can move on. Thanks.”
Rarity watched a young filly, dressed in one of those vague maritime short skirt costumes, turn away dejectedly. Her costume was rough by average standards, but Rarity saw that the filly had hoof-sewn each and every detail with care and love, with all the ability she had. It had to have taken her hours and hours to do.
Her heart hurt.
The rest of the contest was a blur, as she thought of that filly, the tears in her eyes as she was turned away. She didn’t hear the other contestants being announced and walk across the stage for their prizes. She had a vague feeling of the mass of ponies slowly dwindling, but it really didn’t register.
“…and now, what you’ve all been waiting for…the Grand Prize for Best Costume at Humanworld Canterlot Five; The Fifty’s are Alive…RARITY!”
She was shaken from her thoughts as a couple of mares, one in a pair of black leggings and turtleneck, with a black beret; the other in a tight pair of jeans and front-tied gingham shirt, pushed her toward the stairs to the stage, cheering as the audience applauded.
Slightly bewildered, she took the envelope with the check for five-thousand bits and the huge bouquet of roses. The cheering continued.
“Miss Rarity…would you like to say a few words? It’s pretty unusual to have an amateur win the Grand Prize on their first try,” the Master of Ceremonies said, gesturing to the mike stand placed out front.
She suddenly knew what to do, as she walked toward it.
“Thank you, darlings,” she started. The crowd quieted down. “Thank all of you.”
She took a deep breath.
“I didn’t come here to win a prize, Ladyfillies and Gentlecolts. I came because a friend needed help with a costume. Through them, I learned of The Dress. I came here because I was held captive by it. It’s like that in costuming; something grabs you, and you can’t let go of it until you make it real for you. I was lucky…I had friends to help me. And those that have no idea what to do to make their dream happen…may not have somepony to help them. But the real winners, to me, are those who still try, though they have no help at all.”
“This was my first…and my last competition. I have something more important now. I want to do more. I’m going to endow this money for a project. I will have a costuming seminar once a year at my store, Carousel Boutique in Ponyville, and I will help everypony I can with their costuming ideas. I’ll also do co-panels I’m invited to when I have the ability and time. I want to be the pony that helps. And I want to start…with her,” she said, pointing at the filly with the hoof-made dress.
The filly stared back in shock.
“Darling…you put everything you had into your dress, just as I did. Just as much love. I had the tools, and the friends. Now, you have the friend, and the access to the tools. Come see me as soon as you can, and we’ll do it together,” she said, as she handed a card to the stage manager. Stunned, he took it to the young filly.
The crowd roared in approval, stamping even louder in applause.
“Thank you,” she finished gamely, though there wasn’t really any more that needed to be said. She had doubts that anyone actually heard her, anyway.
Rarity went back down the stairs, was mobbed by smiling, laughing ponies. And a few of them were her friends.
Later that night, she sat with her friends after a grand celebratory dinner. Rarity had taken time to visit with a few ponies, including the one filly she singled out, warmly telling her she had done an amazing job, and was thrilled to have her come to Ponyville to learn to do even more. Even the one that had originally held the costuming seminar apologized for being so condescending to her, and shyly asked if she could co-panel some of the next seminars. Rarity was ecstatic.
“Goodness, Rarity…I didn’t think you would do that; invite ponies to Ponyville to learn costuming,” Fluttershy said softly, sipping her tea.
“Nor had I, darling. Totally spur of the moment. That filly…I hadn’t thought one second past presenting The Dress. Then I saw her face, and I knew I had to do something. I’m used to my inspiration doing these little last-second things,” she laughed.
Lyra leaned back in the odd way she had in sitting, the uniform still on. “You should see the faces of ponies that ask where I got this. I tell them it’s a Rarity original, they practically talk my ears off. Oh, and by the way...” she said, sliding a picture toward her, “…I need another one.”
“Goodness, darling, you’ve hardly worn that one,” she said, taking it.
The human in the picture was wearing a tuxedo. “But Lyra…I already make tuxedos. Why this one?”
“The tuxedo…its Armani. I have to look my absolute best. I have a third year anniversary coming up, and I have it on good authority that one of the couple is going to be in a Rarity. I can’t take her out on the town wearing any old rag. And can you be sure the tie and cummerbund matches the dress?” Lyra asked as she smiled.
“Oh, I’ll have to dig around a bit, but think I can accommodate you,” Rarity said, laughing.
BonBon smiled. “And with that, we’re going up to our room. It’s been an eventful day. Rarity, congratulations again,” she said, as they both gave her a hug. They left, side by side.
“Us, too,” said Derpy. “It’s getting late, and Octavia can only foalsit so long. Besides, we’re the ride for Fluttershy, and she has to take care of her animals.” She smiled kindly at Rarity. “That was a fantastic thing you did, Rarity. I’m so happy for you.” She gave her a hug. So did ‘John’.
“Should we bring Vinyl as well, Derpy?” ‘John’ asked.
“She’s at a dance that Neon Lights is DJ’ing. Besides, we promised the Princesses to stay low-key. Only the Elements know everything. I left her the key to our room instead. That generosity thing is catching.”
“Fluttershy?” ‘John’ asked.
“Can I come in a minute or two?” Fluttershy asked.
“Certainly. Have plenty of time, eh?” He winked at Rarity. “Brilliant thing you did. I see why you do that generosity thing. Nice to have a friend like that.”
He walked off with Derpy alongside, close. “The Box is near the bar, Fluttershy. No one will believe a drunk pony,” he said as they walked away. Rarity turned to the last, and the dearest.
“Fluttershy. I’d never been able to do it without you,” Rarity said warmly, looking at her expression filled eyes. “I need to thank you.”
“Rarity. You’re a friend. We were friends even before the Elements. We always will be.” She hugged her long-time friend. “Even without Kindness. It does make it better, though. Kindness and Generosity. Just like it’s supposed to be,” she laughed, delightfully. “I'm sorry I have to go, Rarity, but my ride is waiting.”
“Goodbye, darling,” she said, as they touched hooves. “See you soon.”
Fluttershy waved as she left.
Rarity was finishing her raspberry smoothie, when a stallion walked up.
“May I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.
Rarity looked him over. A greycoat, with an interestingly wild shock of white mane and tail. Violet eyes. Cute smile.
She smiled, gestured to a seat. “Certainly, dear.” He took it. “I’m afraid I don’t have any more business cards, but I can certainly write it down on a napkin for you…”
He frowned slightly. “I beg your pardon?”
She froze, embarrassed. “Oh, I’m very sorry, I thought you were asking about my costuming proposal, darling. Had so many stop by asking, I assumed you were interested, too,” she said chuckling.
“Actually, no. I was in the area on leave. A friend of mine told me you were here, and I thought I’d stop by and meet you,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m Rapier,” he said, smiling.
“Rarity,” she said, offering her hoof. He shook it. “Leave? But I thought most of the Royal Guard are based here. Or is this something else?” she asked, curious.
“Something else. I am part of the EUP ground unit though. I was up for leave, and instead of running all the way to Dodge Corners where I’m from, I thought I’d go and look around Equestria. He’s into this Humanworld thing, saw you were here, and messaged me. I was touring Canterlot and the castle when I got it. I thought I’d wait until you weren’t so fanpony mobbed, though,” he chuckled.
“But why me, darling? Do you follow fashion? Not to be judgmental, but you don’t seem to be that sort…” she said, frowning a bit.
“Nope. I’m fascinated in you and your, em…other job…” he said tactfully, looking at her attentively. “You and your friends have really changed our operational tempo lately. I’m curious about it. You don’t seem to be somepony to be expected to stand up against a Discord, not to be judgmental, either.”
She blushed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed…”
“Hey,” he said, touching a shoulder with a hoof, “…don’t be embarrassed about it. It’s captivating. Finding out such a beautiful mare can saddle up against some of the things you have…”
“It’s not that great a thing, actually. All my friends are there, too,” Rarity said.
“Sure, just like me. Battles are the best. I know mares have it, too…just haven’t met too many before,” he said.
“In what way? What is that ‘it’ you’re talking about?”
“Oh, let’s see…courage, determination, fortitude, dedication…put the cherry on top with your generosity, and I’m wondering why you’re not mobbed everywhere,” he said grandly.
She sighed. “A lot of ponies are a little intimidated by that,” she said, disappointed.
“Been there, done that, have the t-shirt.” He buttonholed a waiter as the busser cleared the table. “Would you care for a drink?”
She waved her glass at the waiter. “May I have another, please?”
“Certainly, Miss Rarity. And you, sir?”
“Apple ale, please,” he said, as he put the bits needed on the tray.
Cord turned and watched her, smiling.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?” he asked.
She smiled wryly. “It’s a long story…”
“I have lots of time. Try me,” he said, watching her face...
Author's Note
I almost had this ready...then RD's episode about the Wonderbolts came out...and triggered a re-write.
Such is life...
