I can barely contain my glee as Rarity presents my finished costume. The mint-colored fabric has a beautiful, silky texture that's a real pleasure to rub my face against. The odor's simply divine; it reminds me of spring dew being carefully administered to Lilly's flower garden via a green eyedropper. And, um... Rarity's giving me strange looks.
She simply rolls her eyes and carefully folds up my item after I remove my kisser from it. Heh.
“Here you go, darling,” she says while tallying through her notes to determine what I owe. “Um, if you don't mind my asking, why is it that you want a costume which looks exactly like yourself.?”
“Oh, well, he he... reasons.” I feel the muscles strain in my face as I put on the biggest smile that I can manage.
“You know, dear, I do have Bon Bon's measurements on file. I know you asked for your own size, but it's not too late for a little tweaking if you'd prefer to have something that fits her a little better...” Rarity gives me a sly wink—oh that rapscallious maiden!
“What!? Nononononono!” I shake my head rather emphatically, causing my mane to swish back and forth. “This isn't for Bonnie. I mean—I like her and all, but we're not to the point in our relationship where we're ready to walk a mile in each other's skin. Uh, I mean...” Agh! My traitorous heart is inflaming my cheeks with my passion! I am so embarrassed.
“Moving on... It looks like you owe me... materials... labor... carry the three... Ah! Forty-three bits.”
Rarity, being the classy pony she is, has changed the subject for my benefit. I take a deep breath and nod. It's more expensive than I expected, though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised after all the tweaks and modifications I've requested. Well, no matter, I have something which should cover it.
Digging into my saddlebags, I grab my rare cat's-eye diamond and plop it on her counter. I'm a bit reluctant to give up such an old family heirloom, but honestly, a costume this good is worth any price. “Will this cover it?” I ask.
I have to smile when her eyes go wide and she makes a sharp whistle. With a swipe of her magic, she clears off the colored fabric samples, complimentary lollipops, and even the cash register from her table to make room for padded tongs and a monocle-sized magnifying glass. The red, musical, rotating, velvet cushion complete with its own little canopy is a bit much, though.
“Oh, yes. This baby will do quite nicely. Nicely indeed. This is such a beautiful dia-mond. And it's mine! All mine! Bwa-hahahaha!”
Hmm, yes. I can tell by the mad glint in her twitching eye that I've clearly picked a winner. I should take my package and go. It's hardly becoming to watch a grown mare drool like that.
Uff. This fabric is quite snugly. I'm glad I was born a unicorn so that I can don ridiculous clothing like this without assistance. Rarity's costume is perfection in every way, well, except for the fact that the stupid zipper keeps pinching my belly fur. Ouch. That's just a minor detail, though. I guess most dresses don't come with zippers. Heh.
Looking at my reflection in my winged, three-sided mirror, I have to smile, and my smile is hidden under my mask's permanent smile. That's good. The fewer visible motions I can make, the less I'll have to explain. Popping open the small black case on my vanity, I levitate out a custom pair of contacts. I moisten them with a few drops of saline solution, and carefully bring one of the dreaded things up to my face. I have have to resist blinking, and promptly fail.
“Gah! Ow, ow ow!” I got the angle wrong and poked myself with the edge of the thin, glass piece. Great, now my eye's all scratchy and the lens popped out and landed on my powder case. Ugh. The last thing I want is makeup in my eye.
“Lyra, are you okay up there?” says Bonnie's voice from downstairs.
“Yes, I'm fine. I was just—” Hmm... I might be a unicorn, but there's still only so much I can do by myself. As much as I hate to admit it, I could use Bonnie's assistance. “—say, can you help me? I'm trying to put on my new costume and I ran into a problem.”
“New—? Lyra, what are you up to this time?” The irritation in her voice and heaviness of her hoofsteps tell me that I'm treading on thin ice with a flaming pogo stick.
I'd frown, but I can't help myself but smile when I see her grumpy face through my doorway. That creamy white pony with her lovely, swattable, curly hair just sends my heart fluttering whenever I see her. Besides, I know from experience that she simply can't stay mad at me.
She slows down upon seeing me. Heh, let's see how good my costume really is. “Bon Bon! I'm so glad you came! Humans froze my face like this! Now I can't open my mouth and talk!”
She freezes mid-step. Her eyes open wide and the cutest little ridge forms on her muzzle as her face scrunches up in confusion.
I can't help myself. I burst out laughing and clutch my aching sides as I roll on the floor.
“Uh, Lyra...” Bon Bon's voice is slow and deliberate, but I'm not done yet.
“Augh! Chest-bursting aliens!” With a flourish, I pull down the zipper and step out of my own 'skin'. Given how high Bonnie jumps, it looks like she tried to leave her skin behind too. That just makes me laugh even harder.
Once she realizes that I'm a total goofball, she buries her face in her hoof and shakes her head. “Lyra, you sure are something else.” With that, she turns around to leave and my heart lurches.
“Wait! Don't go. I'm sorry I spooked you, but I really need a helping hoof with this.” I put on my best pouty-face and puppy-dog eyes and curl my tail around my legs.
That gets her to pause and look over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Help with what? Dressing up as yourself?”
“Uh-huh.” I nod.
“Why?”
“It's... well, um... humans?” I grin like a mad pony. Too much?
Bon Bon simply rolls her eyes and shuts the door on her way out. Yeah, too much.
I sigh. I shouldn't have mentioned the humans. It might be the truth, but I already get enough flak for that as is. Honestly, my whole fascination with those bipedal creatures is really just a red herring. I'm far too embarrassed to reveal my deepest secret even to her. If that blessed, beautiful Bon Bon knew the real truth, well, I don't doubt that she'd continue to laugh at me long after she'd died of old age and rotted away.
Well, there's no help for insanity. I get back to the task of dressing up as myself. The zipper hurts twice as much when I pinch myself this time, but I won't let that get me down. Even though Bonnie walked out, my stomach remains knotted with anticipation. Where I'm going, dressing up as myself is the best disguise that I can possibly wear.
It took longer than I expected, but I had to stop to ensure that the little details were as perfect as they could possibly be. In the mirrors, so long as I don't move, I look as close as I possibly can to myself without taking everything off and going nude. The only obvious difference being that I'm wearing a horn sheath made from turquoise-infused cloudy quartz. I want that part of my body to look as fake as possible, and the smooth, translucent mineral does a good job of mimicking plastic.
I hold a light up to my face and move my eyes around. The uncomfortable contacts have the same golden tint as my iris, but while I'm wearing them my pupils won't appear to constrict or dilate in response to changes in the light. Tiny details like this, which look good on the surface but don't hold up under scrutiny, are exactly the things I need to stay undetected.
Nodding to my own reflections one last time, I step away from my vanity and roll up the matted rug on my floor. I carefully press my weight down on one specific, creaky spot. This releases a hidden latch, and with my magic, I slide open a hidden panel. There, under my floor boards, is a thin but wide sliver of granite.
This is the facade from an old breezie stone, and while it no longer opens to their world, I've found a way to attune its magic elsewhere. With a little nudge from myself, the entire surface shimmers and glistens. Being shaved down like that, it's easy to charge, but it can't stay open for more than a few hours. That's all the time I'll need.
Before I go, I take the precaution of locking and bolting my door. The others still believe that humans are a myth, and despite what I might say to them, I'd prefer to keep it that way.
“Ticket, please.”
I frown and look up at the bald man in the security uniform, though my costume continues its unchanging grin. This could be a problem. “Um, sorry. I spent so much time getting ready that I must have forgotten my ticket back home. Do you think that I could—?”
He sighs and reaches for a clipboard. “That's okay, Miss. If you can just give me your name I'll—”
“Lyra Heartstrings!” I proudly declare and wag my tail for emphasis.
He looks at his list, then back at me, then at his list and bursts out laughing. “Forget it; it's obvious that you belong here. Go on in. I'll just mark you down as 'staff.' ”
“Thanks, mister.” I hop on my hooves and trot past him before decides to change his mind. Score one for my super-amazing 'Lyra' costume.
I stop and draw a short breath inside the convention center. There's so much to take in!
The building's giant; it seems to stretch on and on in an endless sea of pillars and dangling fluorescent lights. Contained within is an entire ocean of people that ebbs and flows to the various tables lined with brightly-colored and pink-boxed merchandise. I wish that I had some of the local currency, as the prizes contained within would blow the minds of the ponies back home, but alas, I'm lucky enough as it is just to be here.
Like whitecaps at sea, numerous people stand out wearing rainbow wigs and light-blue shirts. Some even have fake blue, cardboard wings. I have to smirk. It's amusing to see so many fans of Rainbow Dash. Do they like her so much because she's such a hopeless fangirl herself? Oh! There's a group of people like me in full-body costumes standing and waving at the crowd.
I squee and do a little tap-dance on my tippy-hooves.
“Wow, I've never seen such an amazing Lyra costume before. Did you make that yourself?”
I blink and look up at the large, wide, intimidating human standing before me. His flabbiness is only partially hidden by a black t-shirt decorated with an anthropomorphic version of Twilight lying suggestively on a pile of books. I've never been a fan of the 'humanized' look, but it's still good artwork. The food stains ruin it, though. His greasy hair is long and unkempt, and it looks as if he pulled it down his face and neck via the sheer force of his own gravity. Only, his body was simply too massive and it kept going and cratered into a bucket of cheese dip. At this moment, I'm quite glad that my costume forces me to breath through the eyedropper-dew scented fabric. It helps protect against this dreaded funk.
“Uh, well...” I say something just to avoid an awkward pause. My heart thumps in my chest and I can feel sweat drip down my flanks. Aside from this human blob, I've gathered a fairly sizable circle of curious onlookers. Come on, Lyra! I should be used to this kind of attention by now. “Actually, no. I commissioned my costume from Rarity this year.”
Several people smirk at the mention of another pony. I laugh as well to encourage the 'joke.'
Mr. Cheese Beard (whom I named myself) rolls his eyes. “Of course you did. Well, enjoy the con, 'Lyra.' I'm going to see if they're still making those dolls of you with that special 'pocket,' if you know what I mean.” He winks at me and waddles off.
I'm... agape. That was exceptionally creepy. I shudder, and try not to think too hard about what he said.
“Oh, don't let him bother you,” another voice says. I turn to look up at a mare, er, woman, wearing way too much makeup. Her entire face is painted white, and she's wearing a curly, pink and purple colonial-style wig. That's supposed to make her look like Sweetie Belle, I guess? “Some people just get off on making others uncomfortable. If he was really interested, he'd have asked for your phone number.”
“Uh, r-right,” I say, and glance around nervously at the crowd. Don't give them ideas!
“Mommy, look. It's Lyra!”
I turn and smile at a small girl. “Why hello, there. Who might you be?” I ask.
Unfortunately, the little human clams up and clings to her mother, who pushes her aside and they disappear into the loud, chattering crowd. Well that was discouraging. Do I look so much like a prop that she didn't expect me to speak or something?
“Isn't that uncomfortable?” a boy asks. “How can you stand to walk on your hands?”
“Oh these?” I lift up a foreleg and point my hoof at him. “It's a block with a handle that I can grip and comfortably set my weight on. It's actually my hind legs that are uncomfortable. You see, the costume's too narrow to flatten my feet, so I have to stand on my tip-toes the whole time.” Yep. I've got this 'midget in a Lyra suit' excuse down pat.
“Wow, it looks so real.”
I giggle as the child holds my hoof and inspects it. His tiny hands are so cute; their slight chubbiness still shows a layer of baby fat. He lets my foreleg go after running his fingers through the fuzz adorning my 'lifelike' costume. Beneath my mask I have a genuine smile. I wave at the boy before he disappears back into the crowd and runs after his family. With a green shirt and blue jeans, he wasn't wearing any pony-themed clothing, but honestly, most of the people here aren't. Those of us who do really stand out, though.
Perhaps, some day, I'll be able to come here without a costume.
No... I sigh. I don't want the attention; I don't want to create a scene, and besides, I'd miss the main event! Glancing up at a clock on the wall, I can see that I still have some time to kill.
Well, as much as I'd love to wander the aisles and rub noses with the vendors hoping for freebies, I think I'll slide over and hang out with the other costumed freaks. I'll be less of an attention magnet with them than I would be on my own. And besides, as cool as the toys are, I'd probably arouse too much suspicion if I started bringing them back. Still, it's amusing to imagine what Bonnie might do if I gave her a brushable doll version of herself complete with tags and the original packaging. That girl has some of the best reactions ever and it's so hard not to mess with her. Heh.
Shaking my head to clear my daydream, I clip-clop my way over on the cold, cement floor. “Hi, Pinkie. Hi, Fluttershy. Hello there, Twilight.” I join three others who are wearing full-body costumes. They are, of course, trashy, baggy, crude approximations compared to my delicately crafted body suit, but I'm not one to judge... much.
“Uh, hi, 'Lyra.' ”
Yikes. That's quite the masculine voice coming from 'Fluttershy' there. It makes even 'Flutterguy' sound feminine, and that's saying a lot. A gasp comes from the one in the Pinkie costume. Looking up, I can't help but shy down from the enormous, oversized foam head with big googly-eyes that are even larger than even my own.
“That is the mostest amazingist Lyra-ist costume that I have ever seen!” she squeaks and reaches down to pinch one of my ears. I wince and bite my lip. I can't cry out because that part of my 'costume' is supposed to be fake. Thankfully, she lets go. “Why, if I didn't know better, I'd say that there was a real pony hidden under that fabric.”
I feel a chill and laugh half-heartedly. “Thanks,” I say.
Oh, Celestia! She's still standing there scrutinizing my every last detail with that giant foam head of hers! Did I split a seam somewhere? Is my false mane too hair-like? Is she going to comment on my breathing!? I hold my breath and feel more sweat drip down my flank.
“Amazing—” 'Pinkie' backs off and turns her attention elsewhere.
I breath a sigh of relief, but my nerves are wracked. Who could have thought that a giant foam head could be so scary? Perhaps hanging out with these three isn't such a great idea. They're obviously costume buffs too, and if anyone could pick out the flaws in my outfit and expose my sham, it'd be them. Where else can I go, though?
My eyes turn unbidden towards the dreaded dark spot. Every convention center seems to have one, and this place is no different. It's the place that the fluorescent lighting cannot brighten. It's the place where nopony dares to venture. It's the place where an idle compressor is somehow the only noise. It's the place where the ball pit lurks.
I see a hand reach up and grasp at the air only to twitch and slowly sink back out of sight. I shudder. No thanks; I'm better off taking my chances with the crowd.
“Why did you waste so much effort on a mere background pony?” Flutter-um-dude asks. “Fluttershy is so much better than everyone else.”
“Bah! Says you. Lyra is obviously best pony.” Which is true.
He shrugs and goes back to waving at the guests entering the main doors. I guess my sheer superiority left him intimidated.
“I have to ask,” the girl in the Twilight outfit says as she points at my head, “but why did you put so much detail into every other part of your costume yet get the horn so obviously wrong?”
“Oh, this?” I give a sidelong glace at 'Pinkie,' whose back is turned. I better make this quick. I'm glad these humans can't see my true expression under my mask as an evil grin turns up the corners of my lips. “It's actually a holographic cone. Check it out—it really glows!” I reach up and tap on the horn to feign turning it on.
“Aaaaah!” Somewhere, someisle, a certain Cheese Beard experiences a spontaneous atomic wedgie which totally has nothing whatsoever to do with me. Totally.
Tapping on my horn again to 'turn it off', I put my hoof back down and grin.
“That was incredible. It looked so realistic,” Twilight-girl says.
“What? It did?” 'Pinkie' turns around and gives me a suspicious look. “Can I see?”
“Uh, sorry, Pinkie, but the batteries don't last long and I want to save them for the costume competition.” Which won't take place until long after I've left, but I don't say that last part.
“Oh, okay.” 'Pinkie' nods her foam head, sending it gyrating rather spectacularly. “I'll look forward to seeing it then.”
I feel bad about lying to her, but I can't stay for the costume competition even if I want to. My portal won't stay open that long and I'd rather not get stuck here. I mean, the human world is a great place to visit, but I don't want to actually live here. I'd miss Bon Bon way too much.
The loudspeaker cracks and a voice comes out, causing the crowd to hush. “Attention everyone, the premier showing of season five, episode three, Castle Sweet Castle will begin in fifteen minutes. The theater is now open for—”
“Eeee!” I squee and tap my hooves in place. This is exactly what I came here for! Even before the announcer finishes speaking, I trot my way through the sea of humans and make my way to the roped-off area. Ducking inside, I grab one of the black, flimsy plastic chairs and turn it around so that I can rest my chin on the backrest for added comfort. It squeaks when I put my weight on it. Soon, the rest of the crowd arrives and completely fills in the vast ocean of seats.
It's silly that I'm so interested in a show about ponies whom I can walk down the street and talk to any time I'd like, but I just can't help myself. I mean, back home, I love what they did with Twilight's castle. Yet here I am, sitting on the edge of my squeaky seat. I just can't wait to see how it all plays out in the actual episode.
The lights dim, and an image flickers and appears on the giant, white screen. I grin while watching Twilight get dirty with Fluttersy while they both wash animals. And—oh my gosh! Did Twilight really just kick that rotten Angel Bunny into a mud puddle? She totally did! I giggle and the crowd shares my mirth.
When the theme song starts playing, I allow myself to slouch down and relax. I might be a different species and live in a totally different world, but I do feel a certain kinship towards those sitting around me.
Heh. I guess it's obvious by now, but I might as well admit it. My name is Lyra Heartstrings, and my deepest secret is that I am a brony.
