Only Human

"HEIL HITLER." After this statement a tense silence filled the Aurora Community Theatre stage as around 18 people and two ponies dressed as Nazis stood stiff as a board in a minute long salute, yet there was no protest, or violence. Instead in the center stood a bisexual man of Vietnamese descent, playing a very stereotypically gay actor playing Adolf Hitler, bedazzled Swastika and all. The audience, the actual one immediately let out a few laughs. It was the general feeling in the air that this production of the Producers was incredible, to the point where it would be quite easy to forget this was in fact a community theatre production. The costumes were amazing, the acting incredible, even the choreography had an energy and life that was unseen in many higher budget shows it was like every little thing in the show was just perfect.

All of this for the most part was thanks to the work of one woman, who at that moment was currently watching the show in a mix of pride and anxiety. Her perfectly manicured nails almost going into her mouth as her body shivered. Her exquisite purple hair in a short but stylish bob cut which was getting more and more undone as she mouthed along to every line and lyric. This part was especially bad, after all as set and costume designer this was where her work would either get it's time to shine or come crashing down in flames. This was her, and several other's big shot, the way to crawl out of the ditch she was all too aware she had dug with her own hands, or at that point hooves. A ditch which many people and ponies much more innocent than her had fallen into.

"Rarity!" The high pitched hiss caused the woman to turn, her eyes locking on a white Unicorn Mare who looked tense enough to fold in on herself. Every hair in her mane not covered by her beret frizzed and frazzled with stress, exertion and stress. This was one of the ponies that she had dragged down with her, and one of the ones which she regretted most. Rarity got up from her stool gracefully as ever, before approaching her equine sister, though with a hint of clumsiness. She had to curtsy to make eye contact, now more than ever it seemed that Sweetie Belle would never get to outgrow her sister, "Rarity what are you doing?" Hissed the mare once more.

"Yes Sweetie belle." Crooned Rarity, her hands cupping the mare's squishy cheeks affectionately before lazily putting them to her side. Sweetie Belle's muzzle scrunched in response before shaking her head as if to regain some measure of adult independence. Something which clearly failed as it simply made Rarity giggle.

"Ulla's dress is torn and everypony else is currently playing 'the audience!'" Rarity nodded, she knew this was just stress not that she could ever blame her sister for being mad at her after all she'd done. This was her directorial debut after all, and if anything Sweetie was doing the favor for Rarity rather than the other way around. At the moment she was still sentenced to what may be a lifetime of community service, the nature of which she had almost no power over. It wasn't all bad of course, and she made sure to remind herself she deserved every bit of it but... but it hurt. It hurt not being able to put her skills to good use. To be picking up trash on the roadside while thousands of people and ponies went naked and cold, or worse were forced to walk around in those dreadful blue U.N ponchos and sweaters that seemed to fill the refugee camps which still filled the world. She had indirectly put those people through hell, the least she could do was make sure they at least looked good. In fact after a year, Rarity wondered if she'd ever get to work in a creative field again. Or if she even had the ability for that matter. Now that she had hands which could only hold at most two objects at once.

So when she learned that not only was Sweetie Belle going to be directing her first stage production for a non profit, but that she wanted to have Rarity help her. Well that was simply an opportunity she couldn't pass up. She didn't care what the play was, who was in it or what it was about, just the opportunity to sew something again. To see the strips of cloth and felt bring her sketches to life day by day, as she fussed and fretted over each seam. She had to do it, and damn it she had to do it good.

A desire to help Sweetie Belle succeed was also part of it as well, but she would be lying if she said it was the main reason. Of course she felt guilty, she understood it was selfish but she couldn't help it as she soaked in the sight of the racks of clothes which she passed on her way through the winding backstage corridors. To Rarity a life without the ability to create was like a life without food, it was the air she breathed, how she made a difference. How she should've left her mark on the world. How she should've left her mark on the world, sequins not suicides, couture not corruption.

Sweetie came to an abrupt stop, her coat making her blend in with the piles of cotton which filled the room. Coat racks and desks stuck out like flags and forts on a fluffy white no man's land. As her sister looked around frantically pulling dress after dress from the rack to find the right one, Rarity took the opportunity to lean down on a desk near the mini fridge. Her second Martini of the day was starting to ware off and she couldn't have that as she searched the mini fridge for any remains of last night's margaritas. She had to avoid sobriety at all costs while simultaneously avoiding being so drunk as to be non functional. Total inebriation brought nausea, and helplessness and sobriety was even worse. Panic attacks happened when she was sober, suicide attempts happened when she was sober. A smile crossed her glossy purple lips as her hand made contract with the plastic container filled with her salty liquid salvation. Yet when she looked up the dress was already on the table, along with a very, very upset looking Sweetie Belle.
Rarity waved a hand letting it hang limp, her smile only kept by the fact that her eyes were closed so as not to meet the Unicorn's gaze. "Oh relax Darling, just a little inspiration fuel is all." Rarity made a light gasp as she felt a tingling sensation before the bottle flew out of her hands and towards Sweetie Belle.
"You're drunk." Rarity winced at her sister's words, anger she could take, hate she could take but disappointment that was something else. To put things into perspective, Rainbow hated her and she could spend the rest of her life with that knowledge. True it wasn't exactly pleasant but she had learned to expect hatred as a common reaction to her existence. Fluttershy on the other hoof, Fluttershy was disappointed and Rarity knew that if she looked into those blue eyes again what little was left of her would be destroyed. The few glances Rarity could bare to take of Sweetie Belle revealed a light sheen beneath her eyes.

"Sweetie Belle." She said in a conciliatory manner as she reached her hand towards the pony, only to have her hand batted away by a soft hoof. The tears were now starting to become clear, like little drops of diamond which left trails of soot on the white fur of her sister's muzzle.
"Don't you Sweetie Belle me." Said her sister, her hooves smashing against the table showing no care for the dress which she had panicked over only a few minutes ago. "You promised me you'd be sober." All Rarity could do was hang her head.
"Sweetie," Said Rarity, her conciliatory smile doing little to hid her own tears, "I didn't.. sober is a relative...it's just.." Sweetie's face didn't soften. Rarity let out a heavy sigh, "Sweetie I promise next show, I'll be sober but well.. I just can't tonight." She got up and carried off the blue gown to the sewing machine. "Besides, other than this one minor mishap I think things are going swimmingly." It was true after all, unlike Rarity the little Unicorn behind her definitely had a shot at a future after this. The little filly who preferred showtunes to Sapphire Shores may get to be involved in a whole new world of them.
"It's not about the show!" Sweetie cried, her voice shaky obviously holding back choking sobs. Rarity turned, almost mouthing out, 'it's not.' As she watched Sweetie her eyes already red and dripping.
"B-but the." Said Rarity her hands clinging onto the stand for dear life.

"It was never about the show!" Snarled Sweetie, "All of this, all of this was for you! Why do you think I made this a non profit!? Why do you think I specifically went for original costume designs. I'm trying to save your flank and here you are, destroying yourself!" Rarity could only nod and whimper, maybe she should leave. Rarity began to turn around before Sweetie once again began to shout as she trotted alongside the woman. Caring not a bit if the cast and crew, performers or even the audience members heard her. "Hey don't you dare trot away from me! Did you even hear what I said?! I AM NOT! LETTING YOU! KILL YOURSELF!" Rarity stopped and felt something soft and wet collide with her leg. Below her was Sweetie Belle front hooves wrapped tightly around her as she buried her face in Rarity's stomach. At that moment, all Rarity could do was kneel down, nod and return the hug.