Dark, silent, cold. That was the state of the otherwise fabulous main bedroom of the Carousel Boutique: sealed away from the warmth and brilliance of the world outside. Yet it wasn’t quite inert, for tucked within the bounteous blankets atop the queen-sized bed was the room’s sole occupant, and also said boutique’s owner. Frantic eyes darted about and scanned through the dimness, peeking through a hole in the protective linen, ears ever perked for the sounds of intrusion.
At first it had begun as a simple nightmare, the day after her harrowing night during Ponyville’s surprise “video shoot”. A sudden case of nerves, she assured herself; quite understandable given what they put her through. But as the day progressed, she noticed something off. She caught a glimpse of something on the counter while she ate breakfast. A fleeting shadow, which she merely chalked up as being a trick of the eyes from lack of sleep.
As the day went on, however, she saw more fleeting specs of darkly shapes from the corner of her sight, all around the Boutique. In the showroom, the kitchen, the workroom, and even the bedroom. By the time night fell, she felt incredibly uneasy about going to bed. After several hours of restlessness, she was convinced: they were after her.
A set of knocks broke through Rarity’s vigilance, her wary focus and thoughts switching to the bedroom door that was barely made visible in the darkness by the slivers of light coming through the cracks.
“Rarity? Are you in there?” came the slightly squeaky voice following the knocks.
“Er, yes, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity replied, mustering as much composure needed to sound normal. “What is it?”
“Just wondering if you had breakfast yet. You weren't downstairs earlier.”
“Oh um, yes I was, dear. I got up extra early, had a banana and some wheat cakes. No need to worry about me.” If only that were true, she lamented internally.
“Oh… Alright, then. Anyway, I’m off to Applebloom’s. I'll be back by dinner.”
“Alright, Sweetie.”
That's right: her dear sweet baby sister had been one of them. Everyone had been assured that things were back to normal without fuss, but Rarity knew better. Years as a skilled fashion designer had honed her senses to pick out every little detail, every imperfection, anything that was out of place. And she knew for a fact that things were not back to normal. It was plain as day.
At first she thought it was just in her own home, but whenever she went out into town, either to shop or socialize, she noticed those scurrying shadows. The following day she saw more of them, along the streets, behind the shop windows, beside the lampposts, and even next to ponies’ hooves. With mounting horror she realized not only that the whole town was infested, but that no one else noticed. In fact, they seemed to have accepted it, as naturally as though it were the air they breathed. Maybe it was the air, who knows. But she knew she was in complete danger. They were all taken.
It's been three days since she came to this realization. Three days when she understood that she had to remain alert at all times, or wind up like the others. Sleep was out of the question; she had to watch for the creeping threat at all times. Yesterday she concluded that going outside was too much of a risk. There was no way they were going to get her by surprise. No way!
In the darkness, her senses were more attuned. Every creak, every whisper, every sign of movement, nothing would escape her notice. Yet deep down she knew it was ultimately a losing battle. Already she could sense them growing in number, plotting ways to slip past her defenses and take her, silently and without much struggle. Prolonging the inevitable, she thought, but she'll be darned if she's going to make it easy for them.
Another series of knocks, far stronger than that of a meek filly. How long ago had that been? Ten minutes? An hour? Two days? Time was becoming meaningless in that darkened, richly furnished sanctuary.
“Hey, Rarity, you in there? Your sis said you were home.”
A stallion. Of course they would send out a stallion to take her. Who better to strong-arm her away?
“Listen, that video we were in just got finished and our copy’s arrived! We're gonna screen it outside town hall so everypony can watch. You should come on over quick; I bet they’d love to have their star show up. Well laters!”
A trotting of heavy hooves, announcing departure. Ah yes, she thought: that accursed video shoot. That's where all the trouble began; when the unseen pox befell the town. A very troubling realization struck: this was it. With everyone gathering under one malevolent banner, they would soon come for her in full force. That stallion was merely a messenger, taunting her end.
She couldn't be around for that; she can't let them win. She had to escape, now.
Slipping stealthily from her covers and onto the floor, the wary fashionista crept over to her one exit. Pressing her ear to the door, listening for remaining sentries, waiting to catch her off-guard. No sound; this was her chance.
A hard shove got the door open and her body right out into the middle of the hall, and not wasting a second more she dashed for the stairs. Galloping to the point of almost tumbling over her own hooves the harried unicorn made it to the first floor, making a beeline for the front door. She vaguely noted a white blur calling out to her, but Rarity had no time to care as she magically forced the door open and rushed out to freedom.
Late afternoon rays practically seared her senses, alighting all that was around her. But there wasn’t time to wax over scenery: her very sanctity was at stake! The approaching danger made her look to the edge of town, and in panic she booked it, unmindful of the odd looks and salutations of those she galloped past. In no time she passed the town limits and fled off into the rolling plains beyond, but just when escape seemed achieved, the sound of her own name close behind reached her ears. They had finally caught on to what she was doing, and worst yet they were gaining!
Rarity poured all she had into moving her dainty limbs further ahead of her pursuers, lungs and sweat be damned! The world around her flew past in a tapestry of blurred colors and fluttering leaves, but for all her concern it wasn’t going by fast enough. Suddenly a break in the scenery appeared: a large patch of blue fast approaching, no doubt a lake. Just the place to isolate oneself!
The fleeing mare made for the lake, arriving at its edge in practically seconds. And most fortuitous of coincidences there happened to be a rowboat close by, which she immediately leapt into. Her momentum caused the boat to disembark from the shore and go out a good ways into the water, but Rarity ensured her safety further by taking hold of the oars with her magic and adding some desperate strokes without pause.
In short order she neared the lake’s center and, feeling herself properly secured, finally allowed herself to lay back and relax, releasing the oars. Rarity looked up to the nearly cloudless autumn sky, panting from exhaustion, mind awash with relief. It was only a temporary refuge, and she would have to think up a new course of action. But for now, the first time in days, she was finally safe.
Then something heavy rocked the boat, making Rarity grip the sides to avoid a splashy tumble. As everything settled she looked forward, only to fumble back with a yelp. Standing atop the rowboat's prow was none other than the mastermind herself: the “singer” with the massive turquoise twintails. It was of some relief to Rarity, though, that she didn’t look like a nightmarish insect as before. Instead she was faced with a slimmer, ape-ish form wearing a modest teal blouse and short black skirt. The being’s black-sleeved arms were crossed before her chest, and her face and turquoise eyes were giving Rarity a rather annoyed look.
“馬鹿.”
For some moments Rarity remained terror-stricken, mouth agape and eyes fixed wildly on the towering female. Once her brain finally put itself together into something more cognitive, the first words to slip from her chapped lips were, “Wha… What was that?”
“誰あなたは感動しようとしていますか?” the singer asked, shaking her head.
“I… I don’t know what you’re saying…”
To this the songstress sighed, then stepping off her precarious perch she bent down and leaned over Rarity with an outstretched arm. Her palm went to Rarity’s left ear and placed something in it so quickly the vexed unicorn barely had time to react.
“H-Hey, Hey! What are you putting in my ear?!”
“A universal translator, just to make this go by smoother,” came the response, clear as day and without any of the gibberish. Naturally, this shocked Rarity even more.
“I can understand you.” She touched her ear with a cautious hoof: the earpiece was tucked in rather snug. The girl shrugged in response.
“A little something I brought with me from the future.”
Rarity looked up, stunned. “Future? As in, like a time-traveler?”
“That’s my official backstory, anyway.”
Not wanting to tax her scrambled thoughts and nerves any further, Rarity decided to focus on the more pressing matter at hoof. “What are you doing here? I thought Twilight said you had to go back to your world.”
“Yeah, and I did. But since your town helped out with making a music video, I thought the least I could do was hand deliver it myself to show my gratitude. It turned out really good, despite certain ‘hurdles’.”
The mare feigned an uncomfortable laugh as she remembered the hurdle in question. Certainly not one of her proudest moments in recent memory.
“I figured you’d want to see it as well, given your part,” the diva continued. “Yet I barely had time to talk to anyone when I spot your friends running off, calling out your name. That little sister of yours told me you’ve been acting weird lately, and apparently you were having a breakdown.”
“...I see.” Rarity let her eyes wander before continuing. “Why did you come looking for me, then?”
“Because I’m under the distinct impression that this has something to do with my video. It wouldn’t do me any good knowing that my music wound up traumatizing someone, so I’d like to set the record straight.” With that, the turquoise alien plopped down onto the seat across from the unicorn, rocking the boat gently. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Oh, well, I guess it started the day after your, um… movie shoot. I had this awful nightmare that left me very bothered afterward.” Rarity wasn't sure why she was being so open and compliant with what was essentially the harbinger of her recent miseries. Perhaps it was the depths of the alien’s eyes that showed a cause for concern—or her dazzling hair and flawless skin—that put the mare at ease. And from judging the prompt response, she was also an active listener.
“It was about cockroaches, wasn't it?”
“Yes! Well, actually, no. I mean, there were some in there from what I remember. But there was something more… sinister. I dreamed that some dark, invisible force had come down and made everypony into… monsters.”
“An invisible force, huh? Interesting.”
“I know it sounds silly; I told myself as much the following morning. But like I said, it left me bothered nevertheless. As time went on, I somehow convinced myself that it was no dream: that invisible evil had followed me into the real world.”
“Uh-huh.” The diva adjusted her seat. “And had you thought of telling anyone about this?”
“No. At first because I thought it was just silly me imagining things. Yet over time I couldn't bring myself to say anything to anyone because… because…”
Rarity shifted uncomfortably, looking away from her audience before finishing. “I thought they had become those same monsters I dreamt of.”
The diva nodded, then asked, “And what sort of monsters would those be? Like the ones from the video?”
“No, not at all,” Rarity answered, barely above a whisper. “The monsters I saw looked like regular ponies, only they were… hurtful, mean, having no trace of kindness or sympathy. That everypony I've ever known and loved and cared for… hated me.”
“Ahh, and so we get to the heart of the matter,” the songstress announced sagely, unmindful of the tears that had sprung from the wearied fashionista’s eyes. “You felt that you couldn't trust your friends anymore, because they didn't tell you what was going to happen that night so as to get a more natural reaction out of you.”
“Yes, that was partly it,” Rarity replied after recouping herself. “But what really got me was that, after our, uh… confrontation, I asked why no one ever considered asking me whether I wanted any part of it ahead of time. Only one pony answered, somepony I didn't even know. And what was his answer? ‘Maybe because no one really likes you’. Simple as that.”
A heavy silence fell over the boat, disrupted only by the hushed lapping of water and the occasional wind gust. Rarity had her head hung low, feeling at her lowest, most vulnerable point. The diva simply sat back, watching the tale of woe unfold toward its conclusion.
“I suppose… I preferred believing was being hunted down by shadows and hidden threats, rather than accept that my friends no longer cared for me.”
“Now I understand: you caught some of the ‘Bacterial Contamination’. That’s kind of funny.” The diva brushed aside her bangs, then looked straight at the sorrowful mare. “Your friends talked to me after we finished the video shoot. They explained that you’re prone to overreacting and jumping to conclusions. While that doesn’t make up for kicking me in the chest, I admit things were a bit overboard since you never got a heads up, and I’ve been told you’re an all-around nice person, or pony, rather. So you ought to talk to them as well.”
Rarity looked up to her as she continued. “I know what it’s like to feel that sort of misery. At least, I’ve been programmed to know. But it’s the sort of suffering that you put upon yourself without good reason. Assuming what your friends are thinking instead of getting a direct answer is just stupid; make sure what they really think before committing yourself to the deep end. Besides, getting wrapped up in melancholy and paranoia is my line of work. Can’t have amateurs getting in the way, you know?”
Rarity took a moment to consider the advice laid out before her. With its prevailing logic and blunt delivery, though, it really didn’t take long.
“You’re right. It’s the sort of anxiety you can’t keep bottled in you, after all. But with the scene I just made, I don’t think any of them would to talk to me right away.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” the diva replied, grinning while pointing a finger past Rarity. The unicorn turned back in her seat, and on the lake shore she spotted her friends waving to her, Twilight and Applejack and the rest. Spike was also there, along with the other ape creature she had met before: the “director” of the music video. Rarity’s heart swelled with joy and relief at the happy sight.
“They came for me... But of course they came for me: they’re my best, dearest, most darling friends. How could I have forgotten that, with all that we’ve been through? All those times they came to help me without me asking. Ohhh, I’ve been a complete and utter foal.” She switched back to the diva with eyes filled with resolve. “I shall talk to them! I’ll get this worry right out in the open and stay its captive no more!”
“That’s good to hear. But you might want to, uh, consider washing up first.”
Rarity cocked an eyebrow at that suggestion. “Why do you say that?”
“I didn’t say anything before, but you really smell. Pretty badly, at that.”
“I do?” Rarity brought up a forelimb close to her snout and gave it a sniff, then immediately recoiled from the odor. “Yech! It seems during all my sleep deprivation I forgot to take a shower. Speaking of which!”
Rarity leaned over the side of the boat and stared into the water. What she saw looking back was a sorry sight: her mane, normally pristine, was in disarray through a combination of bedhead and general neglect. Bits of her facial fur were uneven, and there were ugly discolored bags beneath a pair of bloodshot eyes. She gave a weak chuckle at the grotesque excuse of a mare looking back at her.
“Oh my, I’m simply atrocious. It’s almost comical.” She looked to her passenger. “Given my appalling state, I don’t think a dip in the lake would do any harm. But maybe when we’re a little closer to shore.”
“Sure thing,” the diva nodded. “You want to row back or should I?”
“No, allow me. I got us out here; it’s the least I can do.” That being said, Rarity conjured up her magic and took hold of the oars once more, this time stroking them gently in the direction of her friends. “Before we get back, I just wanted to say thank you for coming out here to talk to me. Even though we started out on the wrong hoof, I really appreciate your wanting to help. On that note, I'm sorry for bucking you that night. It was quite uncouth of me.”
“Eh, what’s done is done. It’s one of the risks you run when working with horses, anyway. Just don't make a habit of it, okay?”
“Don’t look like a horrific monster next time and I won’t, darling.”
The two had a small laugh before falling into silence over the gentle motion of the boat. In little time they got within throwing distance of the shore, whereupon Rarity threw herself overboard with a hefty splash. Breaching the surface for breath she went about rubbing her face and mane in the brisk water before looking to her friends and paddling the rest of the way to land. Once ashore she was immediately surrounded by her cheering friends, who then proceeded to hug and comfort the drenched mare.
Off to the side, the diva had rejoined the director, who watched the happy reunion with mild interest.
“Don't see why you had to get involved, but seems it worked out,” he remarked.
“I figured I’d do something other than simple public appearances,” she said. “It's a nice little place, once you look past the eccentricities.”
“That it is,” he agreed. “So you saying you wouldn't mind shooting here again?”
“Maybe, but some other time. No demands for any fancy videos for now.” A thought occurred to her as she watched the camaraderie before her, bringing a palm up to her chin. “Although… A Christmas theme might work nicely here.”
Sometime later…
As the setting sun brought a tint of orange to the myriad of dwellings in Ponyville, the residents were making their way to town hall to watch the music video in hopes of seeing themselves on the big screen (albeit in insect form). The Clover Cafe was closing early in regards to this, but as the lone unicorn server was putting away any lingering utensils left outside, he caught sight of something.
“Huh, looks like they got Rarity back.”
Sure enough, coming down the street was the fashion designer, looking a bit wet for wear, but surrounded by her entourage of gal pals (and dragon). Following close behind were the two alien visitors, which he thought was pretty weird.
“That mare’s always making some kind of fuss. Her and her friends, especially the princess. A pretty weird bunch, I tell ya.”
“Never a dull moment around here, at least,” the lone customer commented, putting down his newspaper as well as some bits on the table. Getting up, the gray stallion turned away and began trotting off.
“Hey, town hall’s that way,” the server called out. “Aren’t you going to see the movie?”
“Hm? Oh yeah, in a little bit. Just need to take care of something.”
With that the stallion resumed trotting, leaving the server to shrug before going back to closing up shop. After a few yards the gray stallion came to a stop once more, turning his head in the direction of the street leading to the town square. Through his glasses he watched the six mares, chattering away seemingly without a care in the world, almost like equals.
“Seems you let my words sink in only temporarily.”
He gave a huff and grinned before resuming his trot, the bold “C” Cutie Mark shining blue against the twilight.
“I wonder what else can stir you up.”
End
Author's Note
Ta-da: a sequel to a story that barely anyone has read! Sorry if this comes as a disappointment to you, but this is where inspiration struck me, weirdly enough. The time and the motivation were aligned and this is what it pointed to. Also a bit of practice in tenser writing, though that got abandoned half-way. Hopefully someone finds amusement in this.
If not, then I'd like to present to you the inspiration for writing up this story: one of my favorite Vocaloid songs, as well as one of my favorite IWBTG fangame avoidance fights. Bon voyage and all the best!
