Clothes Don't Always Make The Woman

Chapter 15

Rarity’s Apartment, Manehatten

A rather uneventful week had passed since Sweetie’s first day at her internship. For the most part, we got along swimmingly, living together under the same roof again. There were some arguments regarding my little sister’s hygiene habits. By that, I mean she tended to be a little messy. Like not cleaning up the dishes and making her bed regularly. Typical behavior for a teenager. At least she had enough sense to get up early in the morning of her own volition. I remember a time, not so long ago, when mother had to practically drag her out of bed by the feet in order to get ready for school. As for myself, I was enjoying a cup of coffee at the table, nibbling on a bagel, and reading the latest news on my phone. I’d planned to work on some commissions today.

By her own initiative, Sweetie decided to purchase a bicycle and use it to commute to Rara’s recording studio. I insisted that it wasn’t a bother to drive her there every morning, but she was adamant about relying on herself for transportation. I suspect it was because she felt guilty for relying on me so much while she was staying in Manehatten. While the ride wasn’t terribly far, in terms of city blocks, it was a decent workout. Quite frankly, I think she enjoyed the exercise and fresh air. I’d even started to notice a little muscle tone developing along her legs and bottom.

What? You shouldn’t be too surprised by my observation. Neither of us wear a stitch of clothing inside the apartment. Changes such as those are easy to spot when they’re laid out in the open. When I heard the tell-tale plodding of Sweetie’s bare feet against the tiled floor, I put down my phone and directed my attention towards her. She was a mess. I had to stifle a giggle. Her curly hair was frizzy, uncombed, and pointed in every direction. She glared daggers at me while pouring herself a cup of coffee. I smiled in response and patted the seat next to mine.

“I just got up. Didn’t take a shower yet.” Sweetie grumbled.

I crossed my legs and began reading my phone again. “You have plenty of time, dear sister. By the way, make sure that you keep hydrated. It’s going to be rather hot today, I hear.”

Sweetie laid her head down on the table and groaned. “Why’s it gotta be so dang hot here?”

“Because, darling, Manehatten isn’t Ponyville. The climate here is much milder by comparison.”

“Wish I could just ride my bike naked. It’d make things a heck of a lot easier. Did I tell you how much I HATE having to put on underwear underneath the outfits I wear to work? It sucks!”

I reached over and patted her back. “In principle, I agree but… you’d be arrested by the MMPD for indecent exposure. Not to mention, it would not bode well for your internship.”

“S’not like I go around flashing everyone at the studio. I know better than that, Rarity.”

I chuckled. “True, but I was referring to the whole ‘nude biking’ bit. Partially joking, dear.”

Sweetie took a big, noisy slurp from her coffee and stretched out her legs underneath the table. “Right. My brain’s still stuck in sleep mode. Caffeine needs to kick in. UGH! Why’s it taking so long? Do I have to chug down the whole pot all at once? Maybe I should—”

I grasped my sister’s arm to prevent her from getting up. “Let’s not be hasty. The last thing you need is to get jittery and the massive withdrawal headache that follows. Be patient, darling. In the meantime, why don’t you find something to eat? I imagine that will help energize you.”

While not the healthiest option for breakfast, Sweetie had that childish side to her that still enjoyed sugary cereals. She shuffled over to the cupboard and poured herself a bowl of Fantastic Fruity Flakes™, filling it to the brim, then drowning her breakfast in milk. Thus satisfied, she began shoveling the cereal down her gullet in a decidedly un-ladylike manner. I looked over at my little sister, raised by brow, and cleared my throat loud enough to let her know that I disapproved of her atrocious table manners. Perhaps, she was a lost cause, but I would try my best to instill some proper dining decorum into her yet.

“Sweetie Belle, you are not a barbarian. Stop eating like one.”

Mouth still full of mushy cereal, she nearly spat it out while replying. “Who cares? We’re the only people living here. Unless, you think Trav will be offended somehow. Chillax, Rarity.”

I flicked her forehead, not very hard but enough to get my point across. “My apartment; my rules, baby sister. I don’t want you behaving like an uncouth slob while you’re living here. That means cleaning up after yourself as well. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how messy your room is.”

Sweetie pouted in her seat and huffed. “Fine. I’ll try to be more considerate. You sound just like dad when he scolds me at home. Thought you’d be cooler than that…”

I laughed after taking a sip of my coffee. “You’ll understand once you become a responsible adult, dear. Besides, I don’t see you paying rent, so you have to pull your weight somehow.”

Sweetie sat in contemplative silence, save for the ever-present crunching of cereal. Either that or she was upset with me and decided to stop talking. Oh, well. It simply meant that she had more growing up to do beyond the physical sense. Given her curvaceous physique, she had that part down in spades. Extravagance finally decided to grace us with his canine presence, waddling into the kitchen while his claws clicked against the floor. He yawed once, then smacked his chops expectantly. I gestured towards his silver doggie bowl, filled to the brim with bacon n’ eggs breakfast kibbles. Next to it, some orange juice to wash it all down with.

With a satisfied whuff, he began eating his morning meal in the same manner Sweetie had.

My sister finally stood up and placed her bowl in the dishwasher. “So… what are you working on today? At the jewelry shop, I mean. We don’t really talk much about what you do there.”

“Honestly, there’s not much to tell. You probably wouldn’t find metallurgy interesting.”

Sweetie placed her hands on her hips. “Try me. You might be surprised.”

I couldn’t very well tell her that plying my craft was as simple as imposing my will on the materials placed before me. It was not what I would consider mass production; my imagination was still very much a big part of the process. However, the ease with which I forged works of art continued to astonish me, even though I’d had time to acclimate to my powers. My customers were equally impressed, given how much they’d been willing to pay for my pieces. To that end, I was building up quite the reputation amongst wealthy jewelry aficionados. Before long, my brand was destined to become world renown. At least, that’s what my clients assured me.

Like I mentioned before, Sunset, Flash, Braeburn, and Coco were the only people aware that I had additional magic abilities. My family knew of the gifts granted to me by the geode during our ill-begotten trip to Camp Everfree. I wonder how Gloriosa and Timber are doing. Dear me, I should really reach out to them at some point. It’s just that I’ve been so caught up with work and extra dimensional travel—focus Rarity. Back to my other train of thought. So far as everyone else was concerned, the geode had nothing to do with my ability to forge metal.

For now, I suppose, keeping Sweetie in the dark would be the best course of action. It shouldn’t be that difficult to conceal from her, given that she never asks to watch me work. I mean, as a rule of thumb, I don’t allow anyone into the forge room while I craft… for safety reasons. It would—erm—also be a bit difficult to explain why I was handling molten metal in the nude. To answer your question: no, I don’t bother wearing protective equipment anymore. I assure you, it’s completely safe. My skin can withstand just about anything short of a nuclear explosion.

How do I know that? Well, I don’t. Not for certain. I’d rather not test the limits of my abilities in such a dangerous fashion. It’s more like an… intuitive feeling, you could say. When the opal fused to my body, and by extension, my consciousness, it retained some level of sapience. Rarely does it speak to me directly anymore. Communication between us is performed through emotions and dream-like visions. It’s very difficult to explain. Kind of like a sixth sense, I suppose.

Sweetie stared at me expectantly, tapping her foot. Oh, dear. I must have gotten lost in my own thoughts longer than I realized. With a slight blush, I coughed and turned my attention back to her. Hopefully, she isn’t upset with me. I have been known to gather wool in the past.

“My apologies, darling. I zoned out a bit there. You wanted to know about my job, yes?”

Sweetie nodded; her expression softened somewhat. “Mhmm.”

“I don’t believe now is the appropriate time for storytelling. We both have to get ready for work.”

Thankfully, she bought my misdirection. Because it was true. One look at the clock told her that we both were living on borrowed time. She scrambled towards her room nearly tripping in the process, while I elegantly strode towards my own. A perk of being self-employed, Oh ho~ For today’s outfit, I stuck with a simple, yet stylish grey pantsuit and a pair of black heels. As for my hair, a utilitarian knotted bun was sufficient. I held it in place with two decorative hair pins. Made of real silver with sapphires on the ends. What? I had to show off my wares somehow. Let it not be said that I cannot look fabulously professional when the occasion calls for it!

I had planned on meeting with some clients today to discuss upcoming commissions and price negotiation. To that end, I’d taken the liberty of installing a small office in my shop that doubled as a reception area. A two-story business venue with a basement wasn’t cheap in Manehatten, but with the income I generated, paying the bills was no longer an issue. In fact, I owned both my apartment and shop outright.

I’d barely begun to dab some perfume on my neck, when Sweetie ran past the door, shouting goodbye as she exited the apartment. Her shift wasn’t supposed to start for another hour and a half, but it took a while to reach the studio on a bicycle. Strange. I’d never seen Sweetie wear a polo before. It was violet and matched her complexion well, but—I digress. She also seemed to be wearing khakis more often than dresses nowadays. No doubt due to the fact that it was far easier to ride a bicycle in those without getting the frills caught in the gear assembly.

With a shrug, I grabbed my keys and was promptly stopped by a whimper. Like clockwork, Extravagance was at my feet, putting on his sad puppy routine. He knew better than to chew or slobber on my pants. We’d already had a conversation about that! Well, more like I withheld his favorite treats for an entire week. Nothing but the most basic, dry kibbles and water. The austere diet he had to endure had left a lasting impression. Even so, he was still a little stinker when it came to craving my undivided attention. I knelt down and ruffled the fur along his forehead.

“You know the drill, Extravagance. Mommy has to go to work.”

He laid down on his belly and tried to look even more pathetic. I sighed.

“If there’s time, I shall buy a bag of your favorite canine cookies from the baker on 4th Street. But! You have to be a good boy until I return. No ripping up the furniture or relieving yourself anywhere but within the confines of your puppy potty. Do I make myself clear?”

He got back up again, started wagging his tail and let out a single, deep bark.

I scratched his chin one last time and made my way to the car. The traffic this morning was going to be atrocious, but I would make it to the shop with plenty of time to spare.

Two clients met with me today to discuss their commissions. Three, technically, if you count the young couple as separate. However, their piece was part of a set and I priced it as such. A pair of wedding rings made from a mixture of platinum and silver with opals inlaid. Very expensive but also tasteful in the design. I didn't have a large stock of platinum or opals to work with at the moment, but it was more than enough to create a pair of rings. The other client was decidedly less wholesome, in my opinion. Mattia Magnolia, the head mafioso of the Magnolia Crime Syndicate, to be precise. Apparently, word of my skills had reached the Manehatten criminal underworld too. I nearly refused to take his commission out of sheer principle. On the other hand, I reasoned, it would be unwise to provoke his ire.

Mattia Magnolia leaned back in the chair, put his feet up on the desk, and smiled. Olive-skinned with slicked back, oily-black hair and a purple suit, he was the spitting image of a mobster. His crocodile leather shoes must have cost a fortune. When he didn’t say anything for a moment, I began to sweat. His beady little eyes reminded me of a rat’s. He was merely looking for shiny baubles to horde, completely uninterested in me as a person.

“I must say, Miss Belle, your eye for design impresses me. My wife will love the necklace and your prices are fair. As a token of my gratitude, I’ll throw in an additional fifteen percent to your commission price.”

“Truly, sir, you don’t need to. I have yet to create the necklace.”

Mattia waved his hands. “No, no. I insist. Generosity begets generosity. Don’t think I haven’t heard about all the money you’ve donated to charity. It’s quite noble, I think. Besides, I’ve seen the pieces you’ve made for other folks. Impressive, all of them. I know I’ll get what I paid for.”

I began to break out in a cold sweat. His words were kind, but a cold, slimy malevolence slithered just underneath the surface. Every instinct in my body screamed that he was a vile man in every sense of the word. I closed my eyes for a moment, and took in a deep breath to compose myself. The rings could wait. I would work on his wife’s necklace as soon as our meeting was adjourned. Just to get it out of the way and conclude my business with him.

Mattia stood up and cracked his knuckles. “Something wrong, Miss Belle? You don’t look so good. I’d say pale but—erm—well, with your complexion it ain’t easy to tell.”

I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. My blood sugar must be getting low.”

“Luigi, get this woman a cannoli!”

While his henchman scrambled out the door to fetch the pastry, the mafioso paced back and forth, inspecting my display cases with genuine interest. I didn’t say anything for fear that I might offend him somehow. Sometimes, a lady mustn’t take chances! In two shakes of a lamb’s tail, Luigi arrived with the aforementioned cannoli and I must say, it looked fabulous. When he set it on the table, I took a dainty bite and was in heaven. The best cannoli I’d ever tasted! The filling was rich, creamy, and smooth with just the right blend of chocolate and cinnamon.

I must have looked foolish with my lips covered in powdered sugar. Mattia laughed and gently patted my shoulder. “That’s what I like to see! Mama’s cannoli are the best. Enjoy the rest of your treat, Miss Belle. I gotta get going. Pleasure doin’ business with ya.”

Once I was done stuffing my face with cannoli, I waited for Mattia and his entourage to exit the room. When the door finally closed shut and they were out of sight, I heaved a sigh of relief. My nerves were utterly frazzled. Instead of dwelling on the situation, I headed back to my workroom and began sifting through the raw materials I would need to craft the necklace he’d commissioned. Forging would help take my mind off of the world around me.

Let’s see… the first thing I’d need was gold, of course. Then a few pearls, and a moderately sized ruby. The idea was to make a magnolia as the body, using the pearls as petals and the ruby would be placed in the center in order to tie it all together. Mattia had been smitten with my sketch and said that his wife would wear it proudly. I’m not sure if that was his way of saying coerced or if she really did enjoy having a seat of power within a criminal organization.

I’m willing to bet it was the latter. Regardless of my personal opinions, a customer was a customer. With practiced ease, I shed all of my clothing, and folded the outfit into a neat pile by the door, placing my heels next to the pile. I shivered when the air caressed my bare skin, even though it wasn’t exactly cool. Finally, I felt calm, collected, and ready to forge.

It took very little effort to create the necklace. I merely had to think of what it looked like in my mind, and the metals would respond to my will. Gold bullion melted into liquid, then took the shape of a chain, and the flower began to form in the center. The pearls were a little tricker, as they had to be reshaped from spheres into flattened petals, but with enough heat, the task was done. Finally, I levitated the ruby and pressed it ever so gently so that it would fuse to the gold.

When the necklace was completed, I glanced over at the clock on the wall and realized that it was already a half hour past lunch time. Over two hours had passed since I started the piece. I hadn’t even noticed! I suppose time becomes relative when one is absorbed in their work. As far as I was concerned, it was time well spent. The sooner I could conclude my business with the Magnolias, the better. Stomach rumbling, I wiped away the sweat and soot from my face with a towel, then headed back up to the office level for a much-needed lunch break.

The air conditioned environment of the office helped cool my body down after working around a hot furnace for well over two hours. My abilities protected me from being injured by the heat but they did not make me completely immune to its effects. Furthermore, I could technically melt metal through sheer force of will, but it saved me a lot of effort by using the furnace instead. Forming the jewelry itself was already taxing enough on my magic reserves. And yes, if you must know, I hadn’t bothered to put anything back on just yet. That was the beauty of running your own business. You could set your own hours and rules. Lunch break was most definitely clothing optional in Rarity’s jewelry shop~

I plopped onto the couch with my legs spread far apart, in a most unladylike position. It felt good to air everything out. There was no shame in it, as I had no company to offend. My skin felt grimy and unpleasant all over from the sooty, sweaty coating I’d accumulated. It made me want to take a shower quite badly. I know that I probably didn’t smell very pleasant either. However, bathing would have to wait until I got back home. For the time being, I was content to nibble on a turkey wrap while I cracked open a can of flavored seltzer water.

With my hunger sated, I got back up and stretched out my limbs. I padded down the stairs once more and began looking at the design sketch of the wedding rings. Then it hit me. A strange compulsion to create something else. I tried in vain to ignore the sensation, but it only became stronger the more I resisted. In a frustrated huff, I set down the sketch and tapped my foot against the floor impatiently, expecting the opal to explain what was going on. No verbal answer. How very typical! The only response I received was an image of a mask showing up in my mind.

Somehow, I knew that carbon fiber was the best material to craft it with. It was strong and light. Not only that, but I had plenty of carbon to work with. With a wave of my hand, I began levitating charcoal briquettes from the bottom of the furnace and fused them together in one, solid lump. I closed my eyes and concentrated on forming it into the shape I desired when something extraordinary occurred. A surge of magic pulsed through my arms, coursing through my fingers and into the carbon. I was no longer in control. The opal was doing something.

A brilliant flash of light filled the basement, temporarily blinding me. When I opened them again, vision somewhat blurred, I found that the carbon had become clear. That could only mean one possible thing: it had become diamond. I reached out and tested the weight, finding it light and flexible. How was this possible? It dawned on me that through the use of powerful magic and modern metallurgy, I had essentially created diamond fiber. A material impossible to forge with humanity’s current level of technology.

All that was left to do was color the mask, then add something to cover the eye holes. I bonded two sapphires to the slots, making them far harder than they would be otherwise, and reinforced their atomic structure. Gold and pearl were inlaid just underneath the surface, giving the mask an ivory color that matched my complexion quite nicely. When I was finished, it looked very similar to a Kabuki mask but offered the protection of an armor-plated starship.

Feeling quite fatigued, I collapsed into a boneless, sweaty heap, desperate to catch my breath. All the food I had eaten for lunch earlier seemed like a distant memory. My stomach groaned in protest, my body ached everywhere and I had to fight the urge to fall asleep on the dirty floor. Creating the mask must have taken a lot more out of me than I previously thought. I struggled up the stairs and dragged my ivory rump to the fridge where I gorged on whatever I could find.

It took nearly an hour, but I finally felt like I could move around again without collapsing. A quick glance at my phone told me that it was about three o’clock in the afternoon. I simply couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to take a shower! My apartment was too far of a drive, so I opted to visit a fitness center nearby. Thankfully, I spent enough time at the shop to keep a few sets of clothing on hand. Not bothering with undergarments, I threw on a pink sundress and sneakers, packed a bag with all the necessary toiletries, a tank top, and a pair of gym shorts.

One hot shower later, and I felt like a new Rarity. I’d decided that my business for the day was concluded, and sent a quick email to Mr. Magnolia informing him that his commission was complete. His reply was surprisingly quick for a mafia boss, but he was overjoyed at the prospect of picking up his new necklace. He insisted that it was no problem picking it up tomorrow.

And so, I laid back in the big, comfy recliner at the fitness center and watched the news while I relaxed. At least, I tried to… until I saw a very familiar recording studio appear on screen. The news feed switched then from the reporter on scene to a conference being held by the MMPD Chief of the special operations branch. He urged everyone to be quiet so that he could speak.

I can say with the utmost conviction that we are doing everything we can to bring these terrorists to justice, and ensure the safety of the two hostages taken. On that note, I have assembled the MMPD’s finest anti-terror strike force for this mission, and a plan is already underway to breach their base of operations, when we find it. I will now take questions from the media.

What are the terrorists' demands? Do you plan on negotiating with them?

We’d prefer not to discuss such details as they’d compromise the security of the mission.

Moments later, my phone began to ring. The caller ID revealed that it was Coco. An icy knot of dread began to form in the pit of my stomach just thinking about what the police chief had said. The MMPD certainly didn’t sound like they were in the mood to negotiate with the kidnappers. My baby sister’s life was on the line! How could they—deep breaths, Rarity. Try your best to keep it together for Coco. She has a loved one in danger too. I tapped the accept call button and placed the phone to my ear. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation…

“Hello? Rarity?! Are you there?” Coco replied in a quavering voice.

“Yes, darling. What’s the matter?”

I could clearly hear her hyperventilating. “It’s the studio. Earlier today, a group of… I don’t know—soldiers maybe, stormed in and kidnapped Rara along with your sister. Oh, dear! I don’t know what to do! I can’t—WHAT IF THEY HURT HER?!!”

“Calm down, darling. One breath at a time. You said they were kidnapped?”

“Yes,” Coco affirmed, hiccupping a moment later, “The MMPD is trying their best to track down the kidnappers, but so far, they haven’t had much success. The heist was too quick. All I know is that they’re holding Rara for some kind of ransom. I’m not sure who’s behind it.”

I bit my lip. “What about Sweetie? Why did they take her?”

“Again, I don’t know. Maybe they didn’t mean to. She was in the recording booth with Rara at the time. Rarity, please don’t do anything rash. I know your baby sister is in trouble but—”

I gripped the arm of the recliner. “Coco, if you had the power to stop these thugs, wouldn’t you take action? I can’t sit idly by and let the police handle this. They might not be able to reach a negotiation with the criminals before someone gets hurt or killed. I have to do something!”

Coco let out a shaky, shuddering sigh. “I guess so. Rarity, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I appreciate the sentiment. Truly, I do. You have my word that I shall be careful.”

Coco didn’t seem the least bit mollified by my declaration, but she is a neurotic worry-wort. Not that I can blame her, of course. “Ok. I’m not really in a position to stop you even if I wanted to. Be safe. And please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you in the meantime.”

“Make sure that Extravagance gets his supper.”

Coco giggled. “Of, course. To be honest, I could use a little company right now anyway.”

“It’s settled then. I’ll try my best to find Sweetie and Rara somehow. Thank you, Coco.”

I’d barely hung up the phone when I heard a strange whooshing noise. It wasn’t particularly loud, so no one else in the fitness center must have noticed it. More importantly, I felt something appear in my hand. When I looked down, sure enough, the mask I’d left back at the shop was right there. I’m not sure how to explain the specifics of it, but I knew why it had come to me.

I left my duffle bag inside the assigned locker back at the fitness center. I could always come by later and retrieve my meagre possessions. For the time being, all I had was the clothes on my back, my phone, and the mask. What should I do next? There really wasn’t an obvious answer. I didn’t have the kind of manpower and resources the MMPD did for finding criminals. How was I expected to locate the kidnappers on my own? My answer came in the form of a text. More specifically, from Sweetie. She’d apparently had enough wherewithal to use it while captured.

Rarity. It’s me. We’ve been taken to a warehouse near the docs. I’ll send you the GPS location.

Thank goodness for modern cell phones! In an instant, a red map marker appeared on my screen, showing me where the building was located. Hmm. It wasn’t terribly far from the fitness center. The question remained: should I go on foot or by car? Taking a vehicle might pose too much of a risk, considering that the kidnappers could hear it from a distance and spot me faster than on foot. Yes, it would take longer walking there, but I wagered that it was a safer bet in the long run. On the bright side, I’d be getting a decent cardio workout this evening. Haha~

Manehatten, being a coastal city, boasted a state-of-the-art port authority for boats to dock and handle all their cargo needs. This included large warehouses to store goods and unload them. According to my phone, a large, seemingly unused one was where Sweetie’s geo-locater gave off its signal. I hadn’t bothered texting her back, not knowing who was inside with her or if they knew she had her cellphone in the first place. It was a risk that I wasn’t willing to take.

Much to my surprise, there was a wooded area right beside the warehouse that offered me the perfect place to conceal myself until I was ready to enact my rescue plan. That is, once I thought of one. Oh, dear. I was never one for police dramas and action movies. I’d much rather curl up on the couch with Extravagance and watch a light-hearted rom-com whilst eating rocky road ice cream instead. Ergo, I knew next to nothing about planning a raid.

The opal assured me that I would not come to harm if I utilized my skin-hardening ability. Not so much in words, but as a feeling of… confidence? It’s rather difficult to explain. So what? Was I supposed to just charge in there and hope for the best? I THINK NOT!! One thing was readily apparent: I would need to wear the mask in order to conceal my identity. Being made of diamond fiber, I had no doubt that it was completely bullet proof and resistant to just about everything else a band of thugs could possibly throw at me. But what about the rest of my body?

A tank top, gym shorts, and sneakers do not make for effective combat armor. In the end, what kind of protection could they possibly offer me that my powers didn’t already provide? The answer was obvious, so I began to take them off. Yes, even the sneakers. Walking around barefoot makes far less noise unless you’re stomping around on purpose. I know what you’re thinking: why on earth would I confront a band of armed mercenaries in the nude? For one, fighting is much easier when one doesn’t have to worry about clothing getting in the way. Second, it would provide a useful distraction, even if for just a moment.

I may not be the vainest woman who ever lived, but there are plenty of people out there who are of the opinion that I possess an attractive physique. It’s as the saying goes: if you’ve got it, flaunt it! Don’t get the wrong idea; I’m certainly no exhibitionist. Perish the thought! I’m simply comfortable in my own skin and I feel as though it’s an expression of my truest self. That’s really the whole point of being a naturist, I dare say. In any case, I’m betting on the fact that most of those mercenaries will be men and that they’ll be too busy ogling the goods to hit first.

Along with my phone, I stashed the rest of my attire in the hollow of a tree. The cool evening air gave me goosebumps all over. I shivered, partly from the breeze tickling my bare skin, and the rest from excitement. Adrenaline began to course through my veins. It allowed me to better focus on the task that lay ahead. I lifted the mask to my face and put it on. There was an immediate surge of mystical energy as I felt it conform to my flesh. When I opened my eyes once more, the world was colored blue but I could see much better in the dark. Huh. Night vision. Imagine that.

The strangest part about the mask I now wore was that I barely felt it on my face. The transition from diamond fiber to flesh was seamless. For a moment, I began to panic, worried that I might not be able to take it off ever again. The opal assured me that I was just being melodramatic and there was nothing to worry about. In a brief fit of immaturity, I huffed and began to argue with it. I swear, I heard it laugh inside my mind, mocking my ignorance. I wasn’t amused in the least!

This one meant no offence, end-user. You need only will it, and the mask shall come free.

“Oh—erm—that’s good to know. I suppose it fits so snugly around my face to ensure that my identity is not compromised while I move around?” I whispered.

Indeed. We can converse without the use of words, end-user. Think, and this one shall hear.

With that out of the way, I focused my efforts on the warehouse, or more specifically, where I should enter to attract the least attention from the mercenaries. Just because I was capable of taking all of them on, didn’t mean I wanted to. Besides, who knows what they would do to Rara and Sweetie if I came barging in there unannounced. A lady is brave and courageous for those she cares about, but a super-heroine I was not! At least, not in mentality. If one wanted to split hairs, the abilities I possessed most certainly quantified me as a super-human. Or was it being? I don’t know the proper term. Not that it really matters at this point.

As if by—ok, actually by magic, an impromptu HUD formed in my vision. It informed me of different statistics, some more pertinent than others. Like wind speed, air pressure, temperature, those sorts of things. Thinking back to what the opal (I should really give it a proper name at some point) told me earlier, I concentrated, willing the mask to find me a suitable entrance. In an instant, I had my answer. A circle hovered over a back door, highlighting it for me.

I made my way towards it, and tested the door to see if it was locked. Yes, indeed it was. Figuring that now was as good at time as any to activate my diamond-skin ability, I channeled energy throughout my body, making it sparkle and glitter like an opal. My description might sound a bit misleading, so allow me to clarify a small detail. Like an opal, so long as I was not exposed to a major source of light, my skin would not glow. Stealth was still an option for me.

The lock gave way to a precise strike of my palm, seeing as how my body was magically enhanced far beyond that of a normal human. I didn’t want to kick down the door and alert everyone to my presence. Thank goodness for my night vision because the warehouse’s interior was dimly lit save for the occasional fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling. I crept around the crates and boxes, sticking to the shadows whenever possible. I’d yet to see any mercenaries, but it was a big warehouse. They were probably concentrated in a single area, so as to limit angles of attack should the MMPD’s tac-ops unit arrive. So far, it was quieter than I cared to admit.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of searching, I came across a single guard. He was a tall man, clad in military fatigues with a black ski mask pulled over his face. Slung around his shoulder was a heavy strap that was attached to some nasty looking gun. I’m not sure what kind exactly, as I was not a firearms enthusiast. However, it was not large enough to be a machine gun. All I knew was that it had a long, curved magazine. Presumably to hold as many bullets as possible without the need to reload. Great. I’d have to deal with that… somehow.

I hid behind a crate while he loosened a Velcro pouch on his vest. Contained within was a walkie talkie, and he depressed a button on the side, so that he could speak with his comrades. “Everything’s clear in the east sector. No sign of a MMPD incursion, over.”

“Understood Bravo One,” a gruff voice answered, “Return to the holding room ASAP.”

The man acknowledged the order and began to leave his post. Thinking on my feet, I pursued him, in hope that he might lead me to where Sweetie and Rara were being held hostage. It didn’t take long to arrive at our destination, but I had to keep my wits about me. There were far fewer places to hide in the center of the warehouse than along the fringes. As I expected, there was an increased presence of mercenaries within the room. Particularly, near what looked like an office.

I found a ladder that enabled me to climb atop the room, and I crawled as quietly as I could to try and find a way inside. Fortunately, there was a glass window to let natural light into the office just above a desk. I took a peek inside, and sure enough, I could see Sweetie and Rara bound to a pair of metal chairs. Their mouths had been gagged by the looks of it. My stomach decided to start doing backflips just then. What in the world was I to do? By a quick head count, there were at least half a dozen men in there; most of them armed to the teeth.

A lump formed in my throat, which I swallowed with some difficulty. The only thing I could do was continue to monitor the situation and wait until an opportunity arose. The greatest advantage I held at the moment was the element of surprise. They surely weren’t expecting me. Well, to be fair, no one would ever expect someone like me to rescue hostages, but that was beside the point. I took in a deep breath to steady myself, and willed the mask to enhance my sense of hearing.

A stout little man with a white Mohawk, grey skin, and dressed in the same military fatigues I’d seen before, approached another, much taller man dressed in a black pinstripe suit. It was rather stylish, if I do say so myself. He adjusted his glasses and tie, then continued to converse with his minion. Or a gun for hire. I’m not really certain how these arrangements work.

“Hey, Mr. Svengallop. Maybe I’m just bein’ a little overcautious here, but why hasn’t any of the funds been transferred yet? Do ya think the MMDP are on to us?”

“No, I don’t believe so, Mr. Grubber. We took every precaution to ensure this location was off the grid from the MMPD’s radar. However, I share your frustration. It seems that showing them footage of Rara and her… intern has not been enough to convince them that we’re serious.”

Grubber started nibbling on a candy bar from his vest pouch. “I know ya said that ya don’t like to get your hands dirty but a little bit of torture goes a long way. We don’t have to start lobbing off fingers n’ toes yet, since it’s only been an hour or two. Maybe just some roughing up. It’d make more sense to do that with the intern. She’s a nobody, so far as I know. What do ya say, boss?”

Svengallop rubbed his chin in thought while he looked at Sweetie. Her eyes were filled with fear. Never in my entire life had I wanted to smash someone’s teeth in so badly. He would pay for kidnapping my baby sister! “I must admit, she’s rather… well-endowed for a girl her age. It would be such a shame to mar her beautiful body in any way. I don’t know, Mr. Grubber. I hadn’t planned on this heist of ours going that far.”

Grubbed grinned lecherously. “Do you think she might still be a virgin? Even if she isn’t, I’ll bet that marshmallow bitch is tighter than a clamshell! Hehe. Plenty of cushion for the pushin’ too. Maybe we could hold her down and—”

Svengallop frowned. “Absolutely not. Rape is just as bad as torture. I won’t allow it.”

Grubber shrugged. “You’re the boss. I can ride into town and pound some pussy after this is all over. Assuming you manage to procure the ransom and pay us, that is. Which brings me back to square one, boss. We have to do something other than stand around and twiddle our thumbs. The boys are gettin’ antsy. The MMPD could be crawling up our ass any second now!”

I suppose that was as good a signal as any to make my grand entrance. Using as much force as I could muster with my foot, I kicked the glass window, shattering it to pieces. I felt the impact against my skin but it didn’t cause me any pain, cuts, or injuries thank goodness. The marvels of having magical powers that make one impervious to damage. My landing was not nearly as graceful and dramatic as I’d hoped it would be. More like I awkwardly flailed about, desperately trying to land on my hands and feet. I came very close to falling flat on my face instead.

With as much confidence as I could muster (it was all bluster on my part, I was terrified), I picked myself up from the floor, stood tall, and struck what I considered a heroic pose. You know, stoically looking ahead with your hands placed on your hips. I half expected the mercenaries to start attacking me right away, but they just stood there in complete silence. None of them said a word for a good thirty seconds. Their expressions were of absolute bewilderment. After what felt like an eternity, Mr. Grubber cleared his throat and pointed his gun at me.

“What the actual fuck is going on here?”

I blinked owlishly underneath my mask. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re begging my pardon? HA! I’m not the crazy naked bitch standing in the center of a room full of heavily armed mercs. Is this how you get your rocks off, lady? I’m not one to judge fetishes but… fuck me, do you have a few screws loose. What do you hope to accomplish?”

Flustered and blushing, I tried to regain my composure. “I-I am here to rescue the hostages!”

Grubber lowered his gun and laughed. His men joined him. “Listen up, glitter tits. You’ve got a dynamite bod; I’ll give you that. My men and I appreciate the impromptu peep show. But here’s the thing: we’ve got business to conduct and you’re an unnecessary distraction. Tell you what. Get the fuck outta here, we’ll forget this ever happened, and nobody gets hurt. Sound good?”

I broke out into a cold sweat, made all the more obvious since my bare skin was exposed to the open air. My knees felt weak and threatened to buckle underneath me. Part of me wished that I hadn’t been so impulsive. What was I thinking? I’m no comic book super-heroine! No. Be brave, Rarity. Do it for Sweetie. Protecting your family and friends is what matters most.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mr. Grubber.” I replied hesitantly, my voice distorted by the mask. Come to think of it, I hadn’t noticed that function before. I must admit; it was an excellent idea. People still might recognize my voice despite wearing a mask to conceal my identity.

Grubber waved his hands in the air. “You don’t even have a knife! Do you really expect to take us all out with fancy kung-fu moves? Alright. Far be it for me to question some whack-job’s death wish. Hand to hand only, boys. No shooting. We can’t afford to kill the hostages. GET HER!!”

As expected, three of the mercenaries came charging at me, combat knives in hand. They were nasty looking things with serrated edges and a knuckle guard. I was nimble on my feet due to the fact that I didn’t have any clothing to slow me down, but not enough to avoid all of their strikes. Two missed with a dodge and a duck. The third uppercut jammed into my side, just underneath the ribcage. Subconsciously, the opal hardened that portion of my body to lessen the impact, but I still felt it. The mercenary swore when the blade snapped in half like a twig. I leapt backwards, clutching my side in pain. A surprising amount, given how hard my skin was supposed to be. Any notion that my powers made me completely invulnerable to harm flew out the window.

I didn’t have time to contemplate my injury before I had to block a kick with my arms. Once again, I felt the impact but it wasn’t painful this time. I responded by grabbing his arm, and using it as a pivot point to throw him onto the ground. My hope was that it would render him unconscious. A sickening crunch of flesh meeting floor resounded throughout the room, making me wince. I glanced downward and noticed that he was groaning in the fetal position.

Had I really put that much strength behind the throw? The opal, helpful as always, chimed in and informed me that my muscles were enhanced by magic in addition to my skin. When were you planning on telling me this?!! The nerve of some—ehem—a lady must focus on the task at hand. Clearly cautious about striking me up close, the other man kept his distance and eyed my stance.

Throwing caution to the wind, I decided to take the offensive. With a running start, I leapt into the air, performing the best flying kick I could. Alas, it was not very graceful. I fell short of my opponent and wound-up tumbling along the floor in a pile of fabulous, flailing limbs. Yet, it was enough to provide a distraction while using my forward momentum to knock him off balance.

The second mercenary landed on the floor along with me in a meaty thump. He scrambled to retrieve his knife before I was able to kick it away properly, and thus, he proceeded to jam the blade as hard as he could into my lower back. I cried out in pain. This time, the injury hurt worse than before, but my flesh remained unscathed. Despite the pain, I flipped myself over, wrapped my legs around his head in a chokehold, and squeezed my thighs together until he passed out.

By the time I rose to my feet, the third mercenary was already charging at me with a taser. He jammed the metal prongs into my stomach, causing a searing electrical pain to course through my body. The magic helped me to resist it somewhat, but I fell to the floor, unable to control some of my muscles. Legs weak, I tried in vain to get up again. I was practically helpless.

Grubber approached me; a sneer spread across his lips while he drew a pistol from his belt. “Not so tough now, are ya, glitter tits? Although, I have to wonder how the hell you’re still alive. Never seen a naked person survive all that. Normally, I’d have a little fun with ya before puttin’ a bullet in your brain… but I’m too pissed off. You’ve gone and ruined the mood. FUCK!!”

I made sure to put as much venom behind my words as I could. “You are an absolutely vile, disgusting creature, Mr. Grubber. One day soon, you shall receive your componence.”

He scoffed. “Not from you, glitter tits. I’d say this was fun, but it wasn’t.”

He fired three rounds from the pistol straight at my face. Since my mask was bullet-proof, they shattered on impact and ricocheted all around the room. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that Sweetie and Rara weren’t injured in the ensuing chaos. When I opened them again, I was relieved to see that they were unharmed. However, one of the fragments had struck Svengallop in the leg, and another had managed to fly backwards. It went straight through Grubber’s right eye and pierced his brain. He crumpled to the floor in a boneless heap while I began to panic.

Blood was everywhere. A great deal of it had seeped from Grubber’s wound and covered my skin since I was not yet in control of my faculties yet. I struggled to heave his body off of me, but eventually I managed to gain enough feeling in my legs to stand. When I took a moment to survey the room, the only remaining people inside were Svengallop, Sweetie, and Rara. The other mercenaries must have fled the scene, once they witnessed their leader die.

My first order of business was to tend to Svengallop’s leg wound. He might have been an unsavory character, but he certainly didn’t deserve to die from blood loss. I unfastened his belt and tied it tightly around his thigh to prevent further bleeding. He already was beginning to look pallid, so I rushed over to Sweetie and untied her, knowing that she had a cellphone.

“Call 911 as quickly as you can, dear. I’ll untie Miss Coloratura in the meantime.”

Sweetie looked at me inquisitively, but didn’t hesitate to follow my instructions. With Rara free, I was taken by surprise when she wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug, sobbing with joy. When the sniffling finally began to subside, she let go of me and tried to compose herself once more.

“I can say, without a doubt, that this has been the strangest, most terrifying day of my life. Thank you, miss. I owe you, my life. If there’s anything I can do to repay the debt, just—”

I blushed underneath my mask. “That won’t be necessary, darling. I didn’t save the both of you, expecting to be rewarded. Your health and safety were my primary concern. Are you injured?”

“No, thank goodness. I was starting to think that Grubber would torture us.”

I glanced over at his body and growled. “He won’t be doing that anymore.”

Rara rubbed the back of her neck. “So, what’s your professional name?”

“My professional name?”

“Yeah. What you call yourself, miss. You’re clearly no ordinary woman. By the way, I totally dig the minimalist approach to your—ah—costume, let’s call it. Bold and body positive.”

I shuffled my feet. “Yes, well… my superpowers, as they were, allow me to harden my body to the strength of diamonds. It makes wearing a costume rather redundant, wouldn’t you say?”

Rara nodded emphatically while placing her hands on my shoulders. “THAT’S SO COOL!”

I chuckled awkwardly. “I’m glad you think so…”

“Just wait until I post the video of you saving us. You’ll have a fanbase in no time!”

Before I could protest, Rara began recording a rather unflattering video of me, offering her own commentary on the situation. Not wanting to wait until the paramedics and police arrived, I checked on Sweetie to make sure she was ok. Her eyes scanned every inch of my naked form, trying to put two and two together. Part of me hoped that my sparkling skin and opulent mask was enough to throw her off. But she was a clever girl. Just as I was about to leave, Sweetie placed her hand on my shoulder, a soft smile spread across her lips.

“Thanks for saving us, miss. I was afraid that Grubber guy was about to—.”

I had to hold back my tears. Sweetie looked so tired… and vulnerable. I wanted to hug her and tell my baby sister that everything would be ok. But that would have raised too many questions. Instead, I patted her head before she could start crying. What a mess I must’ve looked, covered in blood, and sweat. Totally not inspiring. “That is the true essence of being a heroine, young lady. Helping those who need it most. Wahahaha~”

Sweetie giggled. “Man, the internet is gonna explode when they see you.”

“Erm—I hope I don’t become popular for the obvious reason…” I replied self-consciously.

“Probably. You’re the first, and only nude superheroine running around Manehatten.”

“Thank goodness I’m wearing a mask.” I mumbled.

Sweetie held up her finger. “BUT! I really like your powers! Is this your normal getup?”

“If you’re asking me about a costume, then the answer is no. I don’t see the need to wear one.”

Sweetie gave me a thumbs up. “Cool. You definitely don’t need one in my opinion.”

“Right. Just make sure you get home safely, dear.”

“Don’t worry; I will! Thanks again for saving my life. Oh! What do you call yourself?”

“Call me… Madame Adamantium, Manehatten’s Unclothed Crusader.”