Back , from the Fashion Museum:

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I realize, my sister had helped me, taking the stockings off; as I had finished the study for the day, before I had gone to sleep the other night.

Only now, my feet are feeling strange and unfamiliar to me. After so many hours, with the stockings on; I had grown accustomed to having hooves in place of feet. And hands too, apparently.

As I woke up, I am wearing a pair of white panties and a matching top. These do feel surprisingly comfortable; even if I know, it is a genuine Rarity design. I should not be questioning the quality, but now it just feels so good.

I blink my eyes, a few times; before I am folding the quilt up towards the wall. A moment later, I slide my feet out from under the quilt; sitting up and slide down and out of the bed.

My feet hit the floor with a soft thud, and I find myself standing on my own two feet. Not exactly unexpected.

While the floor is just the same as the day before, it still feels uncomfortably strange and unfamiliar all the same. I can’t quite put a hoof, or finger onto why. Maybe it is just force of habit, after the night before.

While I may have enjoyed wearing the stockings, just as I had enjoyed the comfort they were offering; I had also enjoyed the time as I was studying, with the aid of the touch pad.

I had barely noticed, how the stockings were lending me the equine form. As I had jumped out of bed, landing on my own four hooves, it had felt perfectly normal to me. As if, I had been born to it.

Now, I am feeling strangely uncomfortable; in the human form, I had been born in. Though I am still wearing the muzzle and ears, I had worn the other day. Is that, what is interfering with my self-image? I do not know. Though I guess it is worth, posting as a possibility or theory.

Had I chosen to take the stockings off, because I had expected it to be easier to sleep in my human form? I have no idea. Yet, the noises my feet made, as they hit the floor; much less distinct, quieter than my hooves had been the previous night. Though I guess I should be quieter, considering my feet are so much softer than my hooves could possibly have been.

“Good morning, Sis!” I hear my sister chiming in.

“Good morning, Sis!” I respond, without a thought.

Of course, she is not in the room; but I had just responded, before I had even realized it. As if we had been sharing the room, over-night? That had been ages; since we had done it, last time.

I am looking around, scanning the room in order to recover my bearing. Something had snatched my orientation out of my hands; almost, as if it had been a physical object.

As I am looking around, I soon notice the horn lying on the top of the pile of clothes. My Skirt and blouse, identical to the one my sister is wearing; in every aspect, aside from the colour. Considering she is my twin, my clothes would fit her perfectly; as if she had chosen them for herself. Likewise, her clothes would fit me just as well.

Now I am picking up the horn, holding it in my right hand; examining it for a moment, before I am putting it into place on my forehead. Albeit, somewhat tentatively and cautiously.

I am feeling it; just as she had, the other day. There is a tingling sensation, at the top of my horn; making me focus on it, and in turn focusing on the internal magic. At first, it is just the magic, stored in the horn; as if it had just been a battery, one use to power a flashlight or any other electrical appliance.

While I am focusing, the horn slowly fuses to my forehead. Its white hue, spreading out over the skin of my face. I feel the sensation spreading.

In the light of my magic, I can see the room in a blue tint; the hue matching my eyes, just as it is matching the colour of Rarity’s very own eyes as well. Should I have been shocked, or just surprised?

I focus on my skirt, lifting it up into the air; stepping into it, as it slowly stretches and acquires that perfect fit.

“Curious..”I ponder; “this is fun!” I exclaim, just a moment later.

“I know..” she responds, as if she had been standing there next to me; “but it is time for your breakfast!” she then adds, in a jovial tone.

“Yes, Sis!” I respond; “I just have to finish dressing, and I will be with you in a moment..” I continue.

It is, as if she had been in the room; not, as if she had been invading my mind. Though I had heard the generous tone to her voice, slightly amplified by the presence of Rarity. After all, Rarity is the element of generosity; aside from a skilled and cunning Fashionista and businesswoman to boot.

For a moment, I consider: as my hands move over to the rim of the skirt, where the silicon and skin meets in seamless harmony. I do feel the smooth blending under the tips of my fingers and the palms of my hands. The only difference, between the touch of the skin and the silicone; is the smoothness and sleek slipperiness unmatched, while the skin on my hips and the silicone of the skirts warmth is basically equalized, already.

The hue of my skin, unchanged and the same light pinkish tone as before; while the silicone of the skirt stubbornly remains its original colour as well.

Now I am lifting up the blouse top, slipping my right hand in through the sleeve; pulling it all the way through, before I am repeating the process with my left hand.

As expected, the blouse does fit like a glove. Once I had put it on, I slowly button it up, from the first to the very last button just under my chin. It proved, just as easy as I had been expecting.

Just as I had finished buttoning it up to my chin, there is mary a sign, of the buttons; beyond the printed on signs, of where they had initially been. I may feel the buttons, under the tips of my fingers, but I know I am the only one knowing they are there.

Naturally, I know my sister knows; but just because she is my sister, and because she is wearing an identical blouse top in the first place.

Since I had finished dressing up, I can finally turn towards the door; walking over, only for the door to open all by itself, under the influence of my new-found magic lent to me by Rarity.

It is indeed true, that is it Rarity herself who had designed and crafted the horn on my head; but it is only the initial flicker of magic she had invested into the item, that is now my horn. The horn is on my head, and the magic is mine and mine alone. I did not know I had magic, before; but now I do, thanks to Rarity and her generosity.

Just as the door had opened before me, it is closing behind me; quietly, just as I had walked out of the room. I need but think of it, and it happens; but this is the simplest and most basic of all the magic, known to Unicorns. I may be new to having magic, or at the very least being aware of the fact; but I am old enough, to have reasonable control and focus on what is before me.

I continue, out towards the kitchen where I know my sister is waiting, tripping quietly, on soft feet.
She is indeed waiting for me, in the kitchen; just as I had been expecting, based on what she had just told me.

I know her to be truthful, just as Applejack would have taught her; had we lived in Ponyville, where we could have been sharing any amount of time together. Of course, we are twins and sisters; if my sister clings to the truth for dear life, so will I. I could do nothing else. It just is not in my nature to lie, or break a promise.

Had I been wearing my sister’s attributes or accessories; I would have been her, and it would have been a lie to say otherwise. At least, to the two of us it is.

Today, I am wearing blue, just as she is wearing purple. The same metallic aspect, and the exact matching colours. I enjoy the metallic electric blue, as much as I do enjoy her purple counterpart.

As I am walking out of my room, I am walking with a hint of a strut; emphasizing the pride in my appearance, as I am walking towards the kitchen. It is not so much of a conscious act, just a slight change in my gait; caused by the changes, brought on by the exposure to Rarity and her elegant fashion. How and why, who’s to say? Not that I care.

I find myself growing more confident in the stride, as I walk; as I am growing more and more used to my old form in the process, slowly finding my bearing as I go.

At first, it had been strange and new. Now I am becoming used to it; but I guess this will be a recurring problem for a while, as I have to get used to swapping form back and forth. I am still starting to grow fond of my human self, all the same. Why shouldn’t I? This is still me, after all.

As I walk, I am starting to pick up the noises from the kitchen; where my sister is performing her duties of the week, preparing the breakfast for the two of us. In a sense, this had been interrupted; by the trip to the museum, of Rarity’s fashion. Now she is picking up, where we had left off. Nothing had changed.

It had been fun, but it had been a distraction; though it changed nothing, for us as sisters. We had shared in the adventure, growing together. The experiences had strengthened us, are strengthening us and will continue to be strengthening us in the future as well.

After about a minute, I am stepping into the kitchen, our kitchen; just in time, to see her finishing the preparations. Of course, next week; it will be my turn, to prepare everything for her. I do not mind, it is fun. Much easier, to prepare two for the both of us; than for the both of us, to prepare one, for ourselves. I get a few more minutes to myself, this week; why she is spoiling me, pampering me up. I will return the favour, next week.

“Good morning!” she exclaims, as I am stepping into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” I echo, in return; as I am beaming a bright smile at her.

Now I take a moment, taking it all in; the scent of the breakfast, she had prepared for me. Just as I am looking around, seeing everything in the fairly small room.

She had offered me a plate of fruits and vegetables; apple, tomato, cucumber, salad. Just as she had poured me a glass of fresh milk, orange juice and even a cup of tea. She had managed everything, within the time-span of me climbing out of my bed, and dressing up.

“Wait..” I ponder, “there is something more!” I realize.

“Now; if you just sit down and enjoy your breakfast, and your treat!” she points out, as she is offering me the chair.

“Thank you, Sis!” I respond, as I am beaming in joy at her.

“Of course, this will be a special treat!” I ponder, knowing just how much she is putting into this experience for me.

Not that I spare any effort, when it is my turn treating her. How could I? I will be mirroring her act, her effort and her joy. It is the way of things, simply. I am the perfect mirror of her, just as she is the perfect mirror of me. Identical, and flawless.

As I am sitting down, onto the chair she is offering me; she is pushing it in, for me to sit comfortably. I lean back, just enough to relax; as I am looking at the food, she had prepared for my breakfast. There is a plate on the other side of the table, containing her breakfast.

Though she had other plans, for the moment before me. She had something more, planned for me.

“Barefoot..” she exclaims, “Excellent!” she chimes, as she is beaming with pent up joy.

“Barefoot!” I respond, echoing the expected confirmation.

I start eating, as she is getting down on all fours under the table; bringing the pedicure set with her, as she goes. Of course, I did this for her last week; now, it is her time to serve me. Just that I know, she loves this just as much as I had.

What I did not see, I already know; she had been preparing everything, for this very moment. She had the tray containing all the pedicure tools ready. Now, she had climbed in, under the table; as I am enjoying the prepared breakfast, chewing down the vegetables, sipping on the beverages offered to me so generously and graciously.

Since I am barefoot, my feet are openly exposed; my toes even more so, to the point.

There is a new scent, as she is opening the vial of clear gel. She had just been uncapping it, for my benefit.

Now I feel the coolness spreading out over the toe, one toe at the time. She is applying the gel to the first toe, of my right foot. Starting from the middle, at the root of the nail, drawing the brush all the way down with delicate care.

From there, she continues, repeating the process; right and left, right and left. One toe at the time. First the toes of my right foot, then the toes of my left foot. It is an act, performed with practiced ease. She has done this for me, for several years. I remember her doing this for me, all the way back to my early teens and beyond.

Of course, I had done the same for her. We take turns, one performing the treat, the other enjoying it.

However; half the joy, is in knowing my sister is enjoying it. She does this for me, knowing just how much I am enjoying the treat she is offering me; while I will be doing this for her the next week, knowing just how much she is enjoying it. The balance, makes for a perfect symmetry. Synergy, in its purest form.

I continue to eat, enjoying her efforts. The cooling sensation is evaporating, as the clear gel is doing its job and cures. She is capping the vial, uncapping the next; only to repeat the process, once more painting my nails with a clear gel. I once more feel the cool touch, as she is performing. The clean, smooth nails, now being primed and ready for the lacquer.

She had chosen the electric metallic blue for my nails; both the toe-nails and the finger-nails, of course.

My sister had used a lacquer, lending a very hard surface; the lacquer is leaving a thin layer of the bright blue hue, as it is protecting my nails against the continuous, daily wear and tear of my nails.

She caps the vial, uncapping the next in turn. Applying multiple layers of semi-transparent lacquer, progressively less opaque with each new layer. Once, twice and thrice. Finally, she is applying the crystal-clear top-coat intended to protect the lacquer and lend that high gloss finish we both love and adore.

As she had capped the vial, she puts it back into the set; before she is crawling out from under the table, pulling the tray out with her.

Knowing her efforts had sculpted the tips of my toes and toe-nails into the perfect beauty I can be admired for. Just as I had done the same for her, maintaining the image of the perfect mirror. I could have done nothing less for her.

This had never been an act of coquetry, but a gesture of love; maintaining the mirror, in perfect condition at all times. It is after all a sign of sisterly love, picked up well before either of us had grasped the concept of vanity or beauty for the sake of bragging. Once we had started, we had simply continued; enjoying the treat, as well as the process of extending it.

I am chewing down the fruit, as she is working; taking a sip, washing it all down. Picking each piece of fruit in my right hand, as I hold the glass in my left hand.

As she is finally emerging from under the table, I am still eating; enjoying the breakfast, she had been preparing for the two of us. Both for me, and herself.

I notice how she is pulling the chair opposite me out; before she is sitting down, pulling the chair in to sit under the table.

She is sitting, eating in silence. She is sharing the meal with me, rather than waiting for me to finish the meal.

Eating together, is so much more enjoyable; than to be eating alone. Particularly, if someone is watching.

The silence endures, as I continue to eat; now in company of my sister, as she had finished my pedicure.

It seems, we always eat in silence, sharing the moment to contemplate what we have on our mind; uninterrupted, but whatever disruptive elements may choose to sneak into the room. We can always discuss; what is at hand or on our minds later, at a more convenient time.

The silence is lingering, just a few minutes after I had finished eating. My plate empty, just as my glasses are.

I know she had seen it; biding her time to pounce me, with the next step of her treat.

It is not, as if I mind; it is just how she does it, and I mirror the act in turn. Not in malice or vengeful spite. We do not act in spite, or consider vengeance.

“There, all done?” she inquires.

“Yes, all done..” I respond.

Her ears, perking up in joy; knowing I am ready, awaiting her next move.

Of course, my ears are perking up in turn. I am eagerly awaiting, what she has in store for me. Even if I know, exactly what she is about to do. I had done it, for her the previous week; just as I will be doing it for her, the next week.

I never had an excuse, valid for escaping my duty before; neither did she have a valid excuse, to escape her duties. As if, one had wanted to escape!

“You know, the equine ears of Rarity is so cute on your head; they lend you a bit of her beauty, as well!” she points out, with a bright smile on her face.

Of course, she is wearing her ears, muzzle and horn too. Could she take them off of her, if she had wanted to? No idea, but why should she be wanting to?

“Oh, but wait; I’m wearing mine too, just as she is!” it dawns upon me, in sudden realization.

“Yes..” she blurts out; “we were eating the salad, with the muzzle on!” she continues, with a cute giggle.

“Oups, we certainly did..” I respond; “and you know what, I never even realized it..” I continue; “it just felt so natural, as if I had been born with a muzzle in the first place!” I conclude.

This could have been embarrassing. Though we both made the same mistake, if one is to consider it a mistake in the first place?

Of course, with my sister; I can always laugh at it, however.

Naturally, we always laugh at these things together; rather than stressing out, or laughing at one-another.

Now I am sliding my plate and glasses to the side; making room for what I know is coming next.

With the plate, out of the way; she is placing the manicure set onto the table, as she is preparing to continue with the next step of the treat she had prepared to offer me.

She is once more sitting down, in her seat; facing me, from the chair opposite me.

I place my hands on the table, palms down; relaxing, as I am awaiting the next step of the treat with breathless anticipation. She does not have to tell me twice, or explain to me; what she is going to do, or what I need to do for her to perform. She knows, that I know; just that I know, she knows it too.

As I am spreading my fingers, slightly; my hands pressing down onto the surface of the table, relaxed comfortably she is starting. Picking the first vial of clear gel, out of the manicure set. It is the primer, she had used for my toe-nails a moment before. Though it will have a slightly different effect; as she applies it to my finger-nails.

I can see the gel glowing weekly in the blue tint associated with Rarity’s magic aura.

She is starting with the nail of the thumb of my right hand. From the center, at the root of the nail; pulling it all the way down the nail. Starting over; right and left, right and left. Carefully coating the entire nail, all the way out to the very edge; leaving the skin untouched, while the gel is coating the entire nail.

From the nail of the thumb, to the nail of the pinkie finger; only to start over, repeating the process with the fingers of my left hand.

As the nail glows, the surface is growing smooth; slowly acquiring the desired shape, such as she is picturing it. Each nail soon perfect; semi-square, inch long and perfectly curved.

Now, she is picking the primer, or base coat. Applying it onto each of my nails; in the same fashion and order as before. I feel the cool touch, as the gel slowly saturates the nail. As the gel cures, the cool sensation slowly evaporates in turn as a natural reaction.

I watch her capping the vial, before she is uncapping the next; each time, she is swapping vials and gel in order to move forwards and complete the process.

Once she had completed the preparation, she is picking the matching colour: electric metallic blue, just the colour I love. She is working with Rarity’s palette, inspired by the work of our Idol. While we may have enjoyed her work and fashion from afar, the trip to the museum had given us a deeper understanding and appreciation of her work.

Since we had picked the aspects, based on Rarity; picking the colours, from her palette feels like the right thing to do. It makes sense, to us. Of course, I am blue; while she is the purple counterpart.

I am watching, as my sister is applying the blue lacquer to each of my nails in turn.

Once she had painted my nails blue; she continues with the semi-transparent lacquer, in the same manner as she had done for my toe-nails. She is after all repeating the process, of how she had painted my toe-nails; with the only exception, of adjusting the appearance for the finger-nails.

She is finishing, with the top-coat; leaving my nails utter gloss, glistering even in sparse indoors light.

With each layer, she was swapping the vial and I had sensed a slight change in the scent; much more distinctly, than I had been expecting. However, this is the first time I am wearing this muzzle, while she is treating me.

I am new, to how the muzzle works.

Had I been expecting it to be nothing more than a silly accessory intended to look good and nothing more? Even if I guess I had realized it gave me the option to speak to my sister, even over long distances well beyond the limits of my human hearing. I did not even have to raise my voice, but can talk to her as if she had been standing mere feet away from me.

A new sense of privacy. A manner of privacy and intimacy I could never have been imagining in the first place. Now, I am experiencing it.

She, Rarity had just given me the advanced sensitivity of hearing, scent and taste.

I guess, I should not be complaining.

As she had finished the manicure, she is putting the last of the vials she had just used back in the tray; before she takes it off of the dinner-table.

“There..” she chimes.

“Thank you, Sis!” I respond in excitement, as I am lifting up my hands to adore her handiwork.

“A cup of tea, would be just right..” she mumbles, to herself; as she is returning to the household work and prepares the tea for the both of us.

“Yes, please!” I respond.

I continue to hold my hands up, before me; with my fingers spread wide, as I am basking in the joy of what she had just afforded me.

While the gel-lacquer had cured a while back, I don’t let it get in the way. Why?

She is placing my cup before me, while I am still adoring her work; pouring up my tea, before she is pouring herself a cup as well.

I can hear the water bubble, as it starts to boil; just as I can hear the tea filling the cup, and the scent of my tea as it is filling the cup. The scent of the tea filling the kitchen and my nostrils; as it cools down, to the mere hot I can drink.

Waiting, for just a minute longer; before I extend my right hand; picking up the cup, lifting it up to my mouth.

Finally, taking the first sip; enjoying the brew, my sister had prepared for me.

Granted, she had prepared it for the both of us; both me, and herself.

Why brew a cup just for me, when she could brew enough for the both of us? That’s beyond me. It does make exactly no sense.

I watch her, as she is picking up her cup, lifting it to her mouth; blowing the lingering steam off of the cup, before she takes a slow, lingering sip.

The seconds, tripping by; under quiet contemplation, as we sip on our tea. It is a moment, to be treasured. I may be having another, by tomorrow; but that is beside the point, entirely. This is today, and I am taking the time, waking up; in the company of my twin, and sister.

Of course, the time lingers, but is eventually coming to an end. One can not sit here, indefinitely.

While I am enjoying the moment, sipping on my tea; she is placing a bottle of yogurt before me, and one on her place. Now she is preparing a few slices of bread, spreading the butter on it; before she continues, to spread a thick layer of peanut butter on the first, second and third.

She is placing the slices on a plate, placing it before me; before she is serving herself the second plate and takes her seat once more.

I pick up my first slice, taking a bite; only to take a sip of the yogurt. Only taking a moment, before I continue. Knowing, she does the same; thus, we are enjoying the rest of our breakfast.

As I finish, I push my chair back, stepping away from the table; before I push the chair, back in and leave the table.

“Thank you, for the breakfast!” I offer, before I am walking out of the kitchen.

The doors open and close for me, without nary a thought. I walk back, to my bed-room; for a moment to myself, enjoying a moment alone. Well, I guess I had intended to study.

I had left the Touch pad, on my bed; the class waiting, for me to continue where I had left off the other night.

“Could I slip on the stockings, by myself; or, will I need to ask my sister for her assistance?” I ponder.

“I like being able to make it on my own; but I still love, for her to help me out if I need her to..” I ponder, giggling at the thought.

With barely a thought, I am filling the space of my room; with the beautiful sounds, of Octavia’s music. It is from the collection, I had bought on the trip; the very same music, I had been listening to the other day as I was studying. I enjoy her music, it is highly conductive to my studies.

“I love Octavia’s music, I always have..” I ponder; “I just had not quite realized, just how good it is before; or just how conductive to studies it could be for me!” I continue.

Of course, my sister hears the music too; but she enjoys the music, just as much as I do. We are twins, after all. Cultivating the Twin card had been fun; it trapped up, in the patterns. Not that it is a problem or hindrance; we are just as separate and unique, as everyone else.

Is it one or two of us? Maybe it is irrelevant.

What is relevant, to me right now; is my studies, and the subject I intend to learn. Though I had enjoyed to wear these stockings the other day; so I intend to wear them again, today. Now, as I study. Well, why not? I enjoy wearing them, and it is not distracting me or getting in the way of what I am doing.

I pick up the right stocking, in my hands; stepping into it, pushing my foot all the way down. Only to repeat the process, with the left stocking.

As I am standing, on my own two hooves; I pick up the right stocking, slipping the right hand in, pushing it all the way in. Just repeating the process, with my left hand.

“There..” I ponder, as I once more stand on my own four hooves.

As I am looking down, I notice my hooves; all the same metallic electric blue, as my sister had just painted my nails. Both finger-nails, and toe-nails alike. Thus, my hooves are just as adorable and beautiful.

With the set of stockings on, I had just found myself back in the equine form. Now, as a Unicorn; since I had put the horn, onto my forehead.

I focus, lighting up my horn; feeling the heat of the magic as the small orb flickers into existence at the tip of my horn. As I continue to focus, on my magic, the blue orb grows in size and luminosity; as I gather more and more magic, focusing on the task at hoof.

Just as Rarity, herself; I could not permit distractions, like the beauty of my form getting in the way. I know I am beautiful, but I never permitted it to get in the way before; why start now?

With the grace, lent to me by Rarity; I climb up, onto the bed. Once I have made myself comfortable, I activate the touch pad; summoning the teacher and the class I had left the other night, as I am once more focusing on the subject of my class.