One Rarity's Creative Frenzy is Another Opal's Escape Opportunity
It was an average autumn morning in Ponyville. Birds trilled to each other in the dawn’s golden light. The sweet little squirrels foraged among the fallen leaves, seeking snacks they could hide away for the winter, some of which they’d even remember come wintertime. Fluttershy cooed at the not-quite-frantic-yet preparations of the wildlife on the outskirts of town as she walked into town.
It was a completely average Ponyville day, and Fluttershy had lived in Ponyville for a very long time, so the shrill scream that came from the center of town only startled her a little bit.
Fluttershy considered herself somewhat of a connoisseur of Rarity’s shrieks. There was the bug-shaped pocket lint yelp, usually punctuated by the quiet thump of a dead faint; the classic Sweetie Belle Did Something scream that made the locals run for cover in case the resulting mess would catch on fire, explode, or come to life and help fund the local therapists’ businesses; and the I just had the best inspiration EVER and simply MUST create this, DARLING shriek.
The main thing the last one hurt was Rarity’s budget, followed by inevitable despair as whatever she’d manifested in her creative frenzy never quite matched up with the image in her head.
It was, thankfully, the third type, which meant Fluttershy had enough time to brace herself while racing to Carousel Boutique.
The easiest way to tell she was nearing the Boutique was when the number of bird nests nestled into the tiny nooks of the Ponyville gutters abruptly plummeted. By the time the Boutique was in sight, all local wildlife was eerily absent.
The first reason for this phenomenon was the noise. The closest neighboring animals were shocked that ponies lived near a frequent high-pitched disturbance. The local fauna treated Rarity with the same reverence that ancient ponies treated Old Neighful: fascinating, pretty, and liable to explode dramatically at any given time.
The second reason was Opal. Rarity was good at locking the Boutique’s doors and windows, but Opal was unusually talented at exfiltration, and ponies weren’t exempt from feline hunting instincts. The lack of pained yelps from the tourists peeking through the windows of Carousel Boutique told Fluttershy that Opal hadn’t quite made her daring escape yet, but with Rarity’s creative in-spi-RA-tion, darling, it was only a matter of time.
Fluttershy opened the front door of the Boutique a crack, blindly flinging a hoof through to stop an enterprising Opal, and squeezed herself through the gap. Opal graced Fluttershy with a mildly disgruntled look before turning to lick a hind leg in a dismissive “I don’t know what you’re worried about, I’ve never attempted to escape in my life” manner.
Sometimes, Fluttershy wondered about that cat. Specifically, she wondered if Opal thought all ponies lacked a working memory.
“Are you okay?” Fluttershy asked, her gaze finally looking above the feline to take in the state of the- oh, no…
“Oh, absolutely, Fluttershy dearest!” Said the frighteningly familiar rock in the center of the showroom. “You’re actually the exact pony I wanted to see!”
This would end in spectacular failure. “Oh, dear,” the pegasus managed. “Why would that be? Wouldn’t Pinkie Pie know more about rocks than-”
One hoof waved dismissively from underneath the giant boulder, a hoof-chiseled tunnel barely visible. “Of course, darling, but this isn’t just any old rock!” The hoof tucked back inside, and moments later a dusty head popped out. “It’s a space rock!”
“Um,” began Fluttershy, sitting down. She didn’t know enough about space to completely refute the point, but that seemed very unlikely, considering-
“You do remember Tom, don’t you?” Rarity beamed, glittering dust falling from her mane.
Fluttershy sighed. “Yes, I do, and I’m sure Discord is very sorry about tricking you into thinking it was valuable, but-”
The head disappeared underneath Tom again. “Nonsense, it really is valuable. You’ll note that the fragments are rather sparkly, yes?”
She noted the chips of stone that littered the hole’s entrance, and made an effort to recall the trivia she’d picked up from Pinkie and Maud. “That looks like mica, and mica isn’t usually present in meteors. I’m just not sure that-”
“I’m making a gift for Luna.”
Fluttershy blinked. “Luna?”
“Yes.” The back end of a unicorn scooted out from the hole in Tom, muffling the voice within. “Or, hopefully, we will be making Luna a gift. I’m going to make this into stone beads, and I presume you can still knit, yes?”
She didn’t like where this was going. “Ye-es, I can, but…”
“Nonsense, darling, you’re wonderful at it. The stars are the limit, Fluttershy! Literally! We could make her a space scarf! A meteor tea cozy! Together with you, me, and Tom, we- er, we could-”
The dusty-white rump wiggled for a moment. Scuffed at the floor. Stopped.
“Fluttershy?”
The pegasus in question wondered if the Element of Generosity historically corresponded to a chronic lack of common sense, or if Rarity was the exception.
“Yes, Rarity?”
“I’m stuck. Be a dear and help me out of Tom? Oh, I’ve such wonderful ideas, and-”
There was a loud sneeze, then a more contemplative silence. Fluttershy gently grabbed Rarity’s hind leg and tugged. “I’m sure you do, but I think Luna would know if this was a real meteor or not. Don’t you want Maud to check?”
More silence answered her as she dislodged her friend from the giant rock. Slowly, dustily, Rarity slid against the floor.
“Fluttershy?”
“Yes, Rarity?”
“Why didn’t you tell me these pieces look absolutely nothing like beads? I’ve no choice but to start over!”
Fluttershy nipped the empty space where Rarity’s tail had been as the unicorn dove back underneath Tom. Above, she could hear Opal scrabbling against a window ledge, the faint jostling of the lock barely audible over Rarity’s contented humming.
It was an average day in Ponyville. Nothing Fluttershy wasn’t used to, and nothing she couldn’t handle, but…
It was going to be a long average day in Ponyville.
