(Take Me Into) Your Skinby ClimaclysmChaptersLippyLookerLecherLunchLoserLippyPushiness was not a trait many ponies guessed could be associated with Rarity. If they were to be graced by her presence for long enough, they'd quickly find themselves wrong. A quirk of her self-assuredness, perhaps. When she saw an opportunity for change, an opportunity to do, she rarely ever hesitated. This was true in many avenues in her life. She pushed her designs, always ready to jump ahead of the fashion trends of the season, to try and buck them aside and lead them herself. She pushed herself, staying awake into the darkest hours of night simply to complete sketches or finish up designs that came to her in a spark of creativity. Push, push, push. You can always be more than you are! There's always something beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed and adored. In the budding years of her career that pushiness had been a savior. When her thoughts turned against her, when she'd been denied chances to present her efforts to ponies of higher status... ...it's rather unattractive. Maybe I really can't...no. No, no. It's just a little rough around the edges. Unfinished. I'll make this dress a true masterpiece! Wait! If these designs don't please you then let me offer you something else! You won't be disappointed again! She pushed herself, because she knew she was capable. She pushed others, not because she held them to some impossible standard, but because she knew everypony could see past the layers of everything if they tried. To strive toward the pinnacle and come out something beyond what they were before. It was well-intentioned. "Celestia's sun, Rares can ya please just lay off?" Most of the time. "I will when you wash off, Applejack." A long-suffering groan rose from Applejack's throat, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes. Rarity, in turn, narrowed her eyes at the sweat and flecks of dirt marring Applejack's throat. When she lifted her gaze, Applejack was once again looking at her, mouth twisted downward. "Look, I just got a little too into workin' and lost track of time. I was messin' with crops. And I ain't even really that—" Rarity scoffed. "Don't say it! You were working in the dirt, therefore you are dur-tee, Applejack. I tell you time and time again that you must value your appearance more! You're too—" pretty "What's the word this time? Boorish?" "Mmm, tried and true. You strode through town with dirt on yourself, in this hot, mucky weather, and you care not one whit about that fact?" "Tch. Who's gonna be lookin' all that hard?" "Me, for one." Rarity wrinkled her nose in distaste. "It's incredible, almost unthinkable really— I care more about your hygiene than you do. For shame, Applejack." There. She knew she struck true. Something dark flashed behind the emerald expanse of Applejack's eyes, and she took a dangerous step forward. Rarity held her head higher and remained unmoved. "I dunno what yer malfunction is today, Rarity, but I ain't likin' it. I'm dirty cuz I didn't want you held up with watchin' both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom longer than ya wanted. I'm oh so sorry for tryin' to be considerate!" "Well you ought to have considered not making me gaze at such disastrously muddy hooves. Watching the girls is never a problem, Applejack, but your complete disregard for yourself is. Even just a bare minimum scrubbing would've been enough!" "Well ain't you just—!" Applejack's breathing was short and tight, and Rarity subtly focused her gaze on Applejack's eyebrows. It was fascinating how tastefully sized they were. Not too large, nor too thin. They came to accentuate her eyes perfectly. Rarity knew she'd never plucked them. Probably didn't realize that she even could. ("Ooo! Look, Hondo, look! Aren't they starting to thicken up like yours? Cute little purple caterpillars!" "Oh, wouldja look at that? She appreciates the 'brows, attagirl!") When Rarity returned her focus to the entirety of her face, anger had brought a subtle red tinge to her cheeks. Even her blinking had changed, the increased raising and lowering of her lids making her thick, curled eyelashes flutter. She surely wasn't aware she had lashes many mares would envy. She could go a step further, Rarity knew. Just a few more careful words and she could make Applejack storm off entirely. She could envision it; Applejack bellowing for Apple Bloom and rushing off together as soon as she arrived. Rarity would be able to watch her disappear, follow the heavy stomp stomp stomping of her hooves until it all faded into silence. Applejack wouldn't stew on what had been said for long, though. Wouldn't care about anything Rarity had mentioned and instead would pass it off as her being in a prissy mood. She'd brush it aside, and forgive her just as quickly. Then they'd meet up again at some point and it'd be like it had simply never happened. Applejack had a very good heart. Rarity exhaled, riding the sudden wave of self-disgust into her next comment; "Hmph. If nothing else I do see that your intentions were noble. I'll forgive you, again, for your trespass against fabulousness. I know how this season begs a lot from you." Bomb defused, easy as always. Applejack's sigh was a mix of frustration and exasperation, and as it left her lungs so did her anger. She made to adjust her hat, lifting a hoof, but Rarity beat her to the punch with her magic. She still held her little frown, but there wasn't much fuel behind it. Applejack rolled her eyes and took a step back, severing the closeness between them. "Gee, ain't you just as kind as can be? Can ya send out 'Bloom, now? We really ought to start headin' back." "Yes, yes. Of course. I'll just be a moment." Rarity turned around and stepped into her boutique. She wondered what the girls were doing upstairs. She thought about the two orders that were due by the end of the week. She imagined how little time Applejack would spend on washing her hair, tonight. "Girls! Apple Bloom! Gather your things, Applejack's here!" It wasn't anything quite so horrible, she idly mused as she nudged open the door to Sweetie Belle's room and watched them hurriedly clean up whatever scheme for cutie marks they'd been brewing for the day. She loved bringing out the beauty in things. It invigorated her, made her feel incredible and hopefully made whatever caught her eye feel even better. Applejack was, however, the most frustratingly uncut gem she'd ever witnessed. No, even while 'uncut', her natural beauty still shone through. For as pragmatic and 'simple 'n easy' of an approach she took regarding herself, it was impossible to not notice. Not impossible for some ponies, actually. Rarity swallowed down a displeased, very much unladylike grunt. That only made her all the more frustrating of a mare. "Done! Race ya, Sweetie Belle!" "Ok- Wha-! No fair, you started early! Wait!" A blur of yellow and white zipped past her, and Rarity turned to follow them with a tired, subtly fond sigh. It didn't please her, to do what she did. It felt... cruel. It added a level of calculation to their interactions that left her at a distance from herself. But if she wouldn't accept even the subtlest of makeup, refused even the suggestion of a different mane style... She'd simply keep reminding Applejack how bad it was to waste an appearance such as hers. The facts would have to stick, one day. LookerThere was an art to getting oneself prepared for the day. If nothing else, Rarity had made sure to turn it into one. When she first awoke, she'd quickly take note of what position she was in. It played into various things, you see. If she was on her back, then she'd be more thorough in combing out the area of her mane nearer to her neck. More combing leeway was allotted if she awoke on her side, but she still opted to make sure her mane curl was done a little tighter than usual. If, on the rare occasion she ended up sleeping in a prone position, she made sure to double the time she spent refreshing her face. After that, she'd actually get out of bed. Her robe and slippers were shed, and her hairpins were carefully removed. After all her nightwear had been set aside she'd disappear into the bathroom. Therein, she'd begin the longest part of her morning. First, Rarity turned on the tub's showerhead. This was but the precursor, so she could simply hop in while it was lukewarm and let the stream flow down her mane and body. Three-ish minutes in there, and she could step out. Her horn glowed blue and she plugged the drain. She'd make the water hotter, then, and pick between whichever wash she hadn't used this week. (She'd forgotten, once, and re-used a wash that had the scent of snapdragon flowers. "Uhm, Rarity. I meant to ask yesterday, but is that a perfume? It's pretty." "Mmm? Why it's no perfume, Fluttershy! Sunset Savor's Snapdragon Soirée, a rather incredible body wash, might I say." "Oh, okay. I'm glad you used it again, I love it." Again, she had said, and Rarity felt an embarrassment so potent she ended up not using the wash for an entire month.) Never again. Her choice for today would be Calming Caress, a newer purchase with the scent of calla lilies. Distinctiveness was mastered when you could work with its subtleties. Her visage alone was striking, this she knew, but it was the little features that could really influence one's memories. The pretty white mare that smelled of roses. No, the mare with astoundingly purple hair that wore the scent of lavender. It was yet another thing that Rarity had discovered as she grew older and was able to expand her horizons beyond Ponyville. Scent played a large role in the recollection of memories. She always wanted ponies to remember her. Back on track; she slid into the tub. The water and bubbles took her in and cradled her like a lover, soaking into her body and filling her nose with a scent that, funnily, only stoked her energy. She took careful care in washing herself, giving every limb thorough strokes. When she'd gone all over her body once, she'd repeat the process again. When the second run was complete she'd finally extract herself from the water. Drying herself was no major thing. Her towels were wonderfully absorbent and not too rough on the fur. She made sure to keep her hair-dryer in impeccable condition, too. After she'd assured that she was suitably dry, Rarity would clean up after herself, making sure there were no suds in the tub or water on the floor. Then, she'd move to the sink. Brushing her teeth was a slow, careful process. She measured out her toothpaste with a sharp eye, and only went about brushing once she was assured that it was enough to freshen her breath but not offend the senses of others she may talk to. Her brushing was heavy, but still slow. She made sure to let the bristles catch in the little grooves between all her teeth, and only let herself brush across both rows in a more normal manner once she felt she'd been thorough enough. There was a small cup placed right beside the sink's faucet. She took it within her magic and turned the water on. She let the cup fill a little above halfway before downing it, swishing the water about in her mouth. A little afterward, she bent down and released (not spat!) it back into the sink. Now clean, Rarity returned to her room and parked herself in front of her vanity. She'd meticulously part her mane and go about working the necessary gels into it, and, when that was done, levitated her curling iron over and began the process of creating her magnificent curls. Almost. Almost complete. She lowered her iron and looked into the mirror. Nearly-Rarity looked back. Nearly-Rarity still needed her makeup. Her horn lit, and she dragged her makeup kit before her. She withdrew a set of false eyelashes, first. Putting them on was rote, a simple affair that she had mastered after years of using them. They were, in her opinion, the most vital part of her ensemble. She required them, couldn't even imagine attempting the day without them on. Applejack doesn't even need them. Applejack's eyelashes are— The eyeshadow was next, and she gingerly painted one lowered lid before swapping to the other. She had a variety of eyeshadows, a banquet of lapis and aegean and sapphire. Today she'd put on cerulean. She looked into the mirror again and finally saw herself; complete. LecherIt was a personal secret, something she'd never admit to any of them, but Rarity had a ranking of her friends and their usefulness as models. Twilight was deeply reliable. Perhaps an extension of her natural curiosity, she'd come to enjoy helping out whenever Rarity wished to try out a design on a mare of her shape. She'd remain ram-rod straight during measurements, hardly ever flinched away from her sewing pins, and even offered assistance in bringing over fabrics with her magic to help the process along. Her one flaw, perhaps, was that she tended to move when she talked. The movements were subtle, little shifts of her hooves, moving her head a little more in whatever direction Rarity was, laughs that seemed to roll all throughout her body. Ultimately negligible, but inconvenient every now and again. Fluttershy was helpful. She liked to stay quiet and had no problem remaining mostly statue-like as Rarity focused. She was always the most willing to help out, too, the dear. As helpful a model as she was, she wasn't a perfect one. Rarity usually had to correct her poses. Fluttershy could never seem to lift her wings high enough, stick her hind-leg out far enough. It was nothing horrible, but a few seconds always had to be devoted to nudging her into a better position. When it came time for Rarity to mess with her sewing pins, a wave of tension always tightened up Fluttershy's body. They caused minute tremors that never went away until the pins were gone. Ultimately still a lovely help. (She had pricked her once, a long time ago, and Rarity had never forgiven herself.) Dash and Pinkie could be squished into the same tier, because they held many similar... 'quirks'. Almost impossible to keep them still, and vocal to the point of distraction. In fairness to Pinkie, she was very earnest, and of course kind. She wasn't a great model, but she surely enjoyed helping out. Dash, more often than not, would groan and grumble if the outfit didn't immediately seem interesting to her. Even in the situations where the outfit did interest her, her impatience would eventually rear its head. Spike couldn't be ranked, not exactly. It was rare for him to model for her out of necessity, and more just for sparks of inspiration for an outfit she'd imagined for him. In the area of assisting her while she worked with somepony else, he was quite the dutiful little dragon. Applejack... At some point Applejack had become the hardest for her to work with. By all rights, she wasn't a bad model. Like Rainbow Dash, standing still wasn't exactly something she preferred. When she couldn't hide her discomfort she'd do a tiny prance in place, which would in turn force Rarity to pull away and allow her to regather herself. But in the interims before and after that she was exemplary, never needing her poses corrected or moving around too often. She was unfathomably sturdy. ("Careful now with those pins, Rares." "Goodness, did I prick you? You hadn't so much as flinched so I didn't even realize. Forgive me." An easy-going smile and good natured shrug. "S'alright, hon.") It was almost comical, one of the other friends she most preferred to have at hoof for her work was by and far the least interested in joining in, or would be outright too busy to do so. As they'd grown closer she accepted Rarity's requests more, but the farm beckoned, and it ultimately came down to how willing she was to spend a few precious hours of her day standing around. In the end, Applejack was amongst Twilight and Fluttershy in being her go-tos when she needed a live pony to work on. Applejack wasn't the problem. Or, perhaps, she was. "I'll need to measure your neck. Head up, please." "Allllrighty." At Rarity's behest, her head tipped backward. The long column of her throat laid bare to Rarity, and the unicorn wasted no time in stepping forward with her tape measure and fabric. There was a certain allure in necks. After years of accentuating them via clothing and jewelry, Rarity felt she had a rather strong idea of what an attractive neck looked like. It was a silly thing to say, by itself, but many ponies couldn't see the entirety of the part they played in a pony's aestheticism. There was nothing innately attractive in a neck that was too long, nor in a neck that was too thin. A balance need to be found in the shape, the size, to work in tandem not with just the head but the front half of a pony's body entirely. Rarity lifted a hoof and, keeping her expression blank, gently settled it on Applejack's throat. She was warm. It wasn't cold in the boutique, but the feel of fur sent a pleasant current of heat up her arm. Her hoof slid down, almost settling onto her breast. Instead, she stopped and lifted up the fabric with her magic, and began to wrap it around Applejack's neck. Applejack's neck was— pleasing. In contrast to how powerful a worker she was, it was not bulky. It was larger around then her own (or any of their other friend's, for that matter), but not in such a way that it would make her look too overly muscled. It was longer than Rarity's too, something the average eye could easily miss. Stretched like it was then, Rarity realized even the small curve of the slope it made when Applejack tilted her head back was dazzling. Sometimes, when her mind escaped her, Rarity imagined that neck adorned in various accessories. Scarves, neckties. Necklaces, chokers. She imagined what exactly could make that already perfect neck flawless. It thrilled her to no end to imagine being able to decorate it with the rare designs and ideas that she could never seem to get right when developing them alone. Applejack would be able to dress up in colors that Rarity could personally never hope to pull off in fear of nightmarish clashing. "I'll do your legs, now," Rarity said softly. "Gotcha." Her head tipped back down and she straightened herself up while Rarity moved to her side. Just like before, there was no hesitation in the movement of Rarity's hoof. She settled it right atop Applejack's cutie mark, and, slowly trailed her way downward. "I'm considering the idea of having the dress run higher in the back, and lower underneath. There's an entire design that needs to be tied into the tail and I think that would better help emphasize it, just a touch." "Mm." She could see the subtle motion of Applejack nodding from the corner of her eye. "My opinion? Long as it don't mean no stumblin' while tryin' to walk, sounds fine. Though I figure ya already was thinkin' about that, of course?" "Please. What do you take me for, darling? I," She draped a sheet of fabric across Applejack's back, carefully looping it underneath her stomach so she could adjust it into the basic shape she had in mind for the dress. With a low exhale, she slipped her hoof beneath the fabric and began to run it against the inner side of Applejack's hock and gaskin. "...Know exactly what I'm doing." She could feel the subtlest twitch beneath her hoof as she pressed and stroked. Not too hard, not for too long. Every now and again she'd lay her tape measure against the length of her leg, or curl it around it horizontally. All the while she only thought of the stockings she had envisioned going with the outfit. She wondered if they were really needed, or if she ought to forego them instead. It was hard to imagine the ensemble without them, they were there to flavorfully accentuate what you could see of the hind-legs of the pony wearing them, were you to focus on them. It would be an outfit that would look good on Applejack. Applejack had nice legs. They were muscular, that was a given, but the shape of them; they were a good length, thicker than average but nothing grotesque. In truth her entire back-half was well-made, holding a subtle, soft shapeliness that influenced just how pleasing she looked in motion or otherwise. It was a near miracle, a mare with a nature as physical as hers being able to have such strength and not be burdened with the typical, bulky form side-effect. You could feel her muscles easily when you ran your hooves across her body, but a cursory glance made you assume she was just an 'active' mare and nothing more. It drove her to madness that Applejack did not see herself for what she was. She had been born blessed with all the right cards, physically. Why had it fallen to her to shine a light on that fact? Why couldn't she just see she was so... (In the past, Rarity had picked up a light muscle training regimen out of sheer curiosity for the results. To her horror, she realized she built up muscle quite similarly to her father. She abandoned the whole idea once she noticed how easily her forelegs had thickened, how her shoulders had broadened.) "Alright...! Forgive me, I'm done with your legs now." "Was wonderin' what was goin' on. Thought you were figurin' I wasn't a great choice for this one, or somethin'. Bucky 'n Kicks givin' you trouble?" "Oh, no! Nothing of the sort. Just trying to figure out how I'd like to go about the leggings that go alongside this. I apologize if I was making you uncomfortable, I fell a little too deeply into my thinking." "Ya know how many times you've done this? Ain't no sweat." "You really are too kind, Applejack. Well then," Rarity fought down the compulsion to give a hearty pat to Applejack's thigh and rose. "I'll be doing your tail, now, and after that we'll be finished." Rather than respond, Applejack let her tail droop. Rarity wasted no time in moving behind her and lifting it with her magic. She stretched it out, raising it somewhere around her chest. The tail accessory was a bow ribbon that would wind its tails around the, well, tail, and tie into another bow at the end. Thus, the outfit obviously needed to be worn by mares with hair of suitable length. Ultimately Rarity just needed to figure out how it ought to be tied. Tight, so the tails of the ribbons had little room? Should they be loose? Floating a roll of silver ribbon over, she made a neat little bow right at the top of Applejack's tail. She switched from holding her tail with her aura to lifting it with a raised hoof, and began to wind and unwind the ribbon's tails in various ways with her magic. Applejack's tail was a nice, fluffy warmth in her grasp. It was such a pleasing shade of blonde, and so voluminous! How could she stand to keep it tied up in such simple ways? (Once, Applejack had let Rarity style her mane after she'd had an especially unpleasant customer. Call it a compulsion, but Rarity ended up more interested in seeing if Applejack had any non-blonde strands, somewhere. She didn't. Rarity had been shocked. Meanwhile, she had to meticulously hunt down and viciously pluck the inherited brown strands that hid away in her mane.) She didn't think it necessary to pour hours of devotion into her mane and tail. Didn't feel the compulsion to gather strengthening gels and sprays. How was that fair? To have such beauty at the ready and feel not a touch of desire to see it borne into the world? Where was the disconnection? "I think wrapping one tail of the ribbon to the left and the other to the right leads to a nice look. Simple, too. Applejack, my dear, I do believe we're done." "Hoo-wee!" The moment Rarity stepped back, Applejack was in motion. She shook like a dog and leapt down off the podium. She kicked her left hindleg, kicked her right, then rolled her neck around. Finally content that she'd done enough to re-awaken her body, she turned to Rarity. "Charming," Rarity said with an arched brow and faint smile. "Ain't I always?" Applejack adjusted her hat with an easy grin. "Ya need anythin' else?" Rarity gently rapped a hoof against her chin as she thought. "Mmm... no, sadly. Though I don't suppose you'd like to stay and help me start sewing things together?" "Suppose I could, but only if you're alright with my main experience bein' quilts?" "Oh! Oh that's... er, thank you anyway, Applejack." Applejack's smile somehow grew wider, openly affectionate and forever affable. "Heh. Ain't no problem, Rares. I'll jus' head on home, then." Somewhere within her chest, she felt a slight pain as more of Applejack's perfectly aligned, pearl white teeth were revealed to her. It slid its way downward and settled in her stomach like a spiked ball. (Rarity had to be careful, sometimes, in pictures. When she grinned too large, or stretched her mouth too wide. On occasion she'd look— strange.) When Applejack was gone, Rarity looked over her design sketch. Her eyebrows drew together as she stared down at it, the creative high finally sobering. Hardly any of it came together coherently, like it was nothing more than a hodge-podge of pretty ideas, rather then a comprehensive whole. She certainly couldn't imagine herself in it, and if she couldn't imagine herself making it look good, then who else could ever hope to— She stuffed her drawing into a drawer full of similarly side-lined ideas, ascended the stairs, and disappeared into her room. LunchRarity liked food. In fact, she liked food more than most anypony would realize. Oh, she could titter and gush about the tiniest of expensive Canterlotian meals with the best of high-society, but her core could not be denied. She liked nibbling at Pinkie Pie's sugary-sweet hoof-work, would sometimes indulge Dash in taking a few of the overly-cheesy hayfries she loved to munch on, rarely turned away a small tin of baked goods from the Apples. Ice cream, too, was a vice that she was to quick to indulge in her more emotional moments. She liked food. She didn't like how much she liked food. It sent a chill up her spine, on occasion, when she was struck with a desire to simply just eat. Eat whatever came to her mind. Perhaps a hayburger, this fine afternoon? An omelet, maybe, stuffed thick enough to spill out. A slice of cake? How about a soda or two? The cravings would come and go in waves, every few weeks. Her mind would drift for a moment and when it'd return to her she'd feel ashamed. Her typical diet had long since been carefully developed, she knew exactly what needed to be done to keep her body in acceptable visual parameters. It was already a thin line she sometimes tread when indulging her friends when eating together, but falling to compulsions by herself, for no reason beyond her own mental weakness... (Muscles like her father was one burden all on its own. But she'd taken after her mother, too. Any excess weight never gave her the small benefit of at least accumulating in more— tolerable areas. Always, without fail, a readily apparent pudginess would begin to widen her face, and her stomach would soon follow along to bloat downward and outward. She could never let herself get past a certain weight, ever.) It was frustrating, the fickleness of her body. Of course, beauty was something to be strived for, but sometimes the fight was simply exhausting. Perfect truly wasn't easy. It isn't easy for you. Swallowing down her spike of frustration, Rarity levitated over a bagel from the picnic basket settled in front of her. She rotated it in her magic, eyeing the size of it, and summarily tore in half. Just as she prepared to take a small bite, Pinkie manifested in front of her, hoof outstretched. "Waitwaitwait! Try it with this, try it with this! Me and Mr.Cake were messing with jelly recipes, last night! It's super sweet and really good and you shouldn't eat a bagel plain I mean why would you even wanna?" Rarity gazed at the jar in Pinkie's hoof with narrowed, critical eyes. She'd already eaten two cookies. Yesterday she'd put four cubes of sugar in her tea rather than the usual three. "Sorry, dear, I'm not sure I could. I doubt I'll even be able to finish just this half." Pinkie visibly deflated, only to immediately lock her eyes on the other half of the bagel Rarity had set aside. "Ooo! Then can I—" "It's all yours." The bagel disappeared from the napkin she'd placed it on in a blur of pink. Pinkie, too, vanished, leaving behind a few crumbs and a splash of the jelly on the picnic blanket. Rarity clicked her tongue, but bit at her bagel with a tiny smile. The bagel, though plain, wasn't at all unpleasant, though who could expect anything less from something baked at Sugarcube Corner? "You're missin' out, y'know? They really hit it outta the park with the jelly, there." "Oh, I don't doubt," Rarity said, lowering the last little bit of her bagel away from her mouth a touch. Applejack settled down beside her, having slid her own plate of food closer. She had cookies, a cupcake, two muffins, and a recently topped-off glass of lemonade. Rarity carefully looked away from it all. "Beyond her more... inspired... creations, Pinkie does quite well, and quite often." "No kiddin'! I'm serious, these cookies? Dunno what she did different, but mmm-mm!" She stuffed one into her mouth for emphasis, chewing happily. "Want some of mine? I grabbed plenty." Rarity watched the cookie disappear with rapt attention, until she remembered that she needed to gag at the crumbs that had also flown everywhere. "Much appreciated, but I couldn't conceive of eating any more. I've certainly had my fill, and then some." She carefully dusted away the crumbs that had gotten too close to her with a napkin, then used another to dab at Applejack's face. She snorted at Rarity's actions, but didn't put up a fight. "Seriously? Ya already eat like a bird. A few more cookies ain't gonna hurt you none." "One must always be aware and considerate of their body, Applejack. Besides, I truly am full. I just don't have the tongue for too many sweets, really." How would the jelly have tasted? "C'mon, now. Ain't nopony judgin' ya, good eats is good eats. Not like you're gonna eat more than Pinkie, anyhow, heh." There were five cookies on Applejack's plate. "It isn't about being judged," Rarity bit out, unsure why it had slipped free almost unconsciously. "Not everypony has the same type of constitution. Just because you can eat to your heart's content doesn't mean that everypony else can." Rarity scrunched and turned her head away. "Or will want to, for that matter." An irritated sigh sounded off from beside her. "I was just offerin'. Didn't mean to cause no fuss." "It's fine," Rarity quickly replied. "I know you meant well. All of the food is quite amazing. I just— like to keep my portions in mind. I apologize, it's a rather silly thing to get huffy over." "Yeah it is," and Rarity just knew Applejack was smirking outside of her view. "But if ya didn't wanna eat ya didn't wanna eat. I haven't ever thought about all that stuff, too much." "Hmm?" Rarity turned her gaze back to Applejack. "Portion sizes, you mean?" "Yup." Applejack lifted a muffin to her mouth and took a hefty bite. Thankfully, she swallowed before continuing to speak. "I've had a mighty strong appetite ever since I was a filly. Always ate like I do, always will, I think. Guess I'm lucky the farm keeps me so busy, huh?" An ugly snort broke free from Rarity before she could suffocate it. She quickly covered it up by gently coughing into her hoof. Lucky. Hah. "While it wouldn't be so horrible to keep these things in mind for the future, you are correct. You do more than enough physical work to keep things in line. Even then, perhaps you Apples simply have a special type of physiology, to boot. Who could say?" "Y'know, with the way Granny can still pack away food I just might agree." Applejack took a final bite of her muffin, expression a touch thoughtful. "You make it look easy, honestly. I'd probably keel over and howl if I had to start thinkin' 'bout eatin' like you do." She shrugged. "Things'll keep workin' out, I guess." Rarity curled her left forehoof into the picnic blanket, messing up her previous effort of perfectly spreading it out. She exhaled and looked away. "Mm. Should we all be so lucky." Before her thoughts could spiral, Rarity picked up the last little bit of her bagel and ate it. It still tasted fine. Some small part of her knew it would taste even better with jelly, but she ignored that thought and spent the rest of the picnic in silence. LoserRarity was fully capable of admitting that when her emotions got the best of her, she was prone to theatrics. Her friends could tell you that. Her family could tell you that. Ponyvillians that she was wasn't even all that intimate with could tell you that. It was just how she was. When the woes of the world tried to overtake her, she'd wail and sob until they crawled away, defeated. It brought her a level of catharsis that she could never fully explain. When her fits were over she'd, of course, endeavor to quickly pull herself back together and sweep it from her memory. But in those exact moments during, she simply didn't care. She'd kick, roll around, cry to the point of utterly ruined makeup, and eat however much ice cream would settle her nerves. It was, put as favorably as possible, a very colorful coping mechanism. She couldn't explain why she behaved like that. It wasn't an act, certainly not. When her feelings reached a fever-pitch it was like she went on auto-pilot. She had to let it all out, had to shed her skin and empty all of the unpleasantness into the air so that it might evaporate entirely. It may not have fit her image, but it always felt good. Still, it bothered her, sometimes. Everypony was different. Mussed up emotions required a unique, special touch for everypony currently burdened with them. Not everypony could simply take their pain in silence. But her little outbursts could be a tad... much. Foalish, even, but she hated to even consider the notion of the word describing anything about her. It overtook her thoughts every now and again. Anytime it happened, it really was like she was resetting herself to default. No, like she was finally emptying a bucket that was just about to overflow. It was never just whatever situation at hoof that she was carrying on about. There was always more, she realized. Always some past discomfort, distaste, or displeasure that was being soothed, even if she didn't realize so at the time. Ultimately, it more than likely came down to her work. No matter how much she adored what she did, it brought with it unique stresses and strains that, most of the time, needed to put aside for the sake of the art. That could easily lead to a sort-of emotional build-up. So, when the nonsensical desire to collapse and forego every part of her true image overtook her, it understandably hit rather hard. (She remembered one particularly moody day for her. She'd ended up rolling around so much that both sets of her false lashes had fallen off. That, oddly, had made her feel better to the point she pulled herself together only five or so minutes later. It was something she always found to be silly whenever it came to mind. What could have been so comforting in not having them on?) Could she carry on like that forever? "How do you handle stress?" Applejack and Twilight looked up from their respective cups of iced-tea. Twilight gave a thoughtful hum, shifting a little on top of the cafe's outdoor pillow-cushion before responding. "Well, assuming I'm not, ah, too far gone in one direction, I like to talk aloud and reason things out myself. Writing my thoughts down can be beneficial too. There's also the forever effective method of 'having Spike point out I'm being silly'." All three mares laughed. Rarity was the first to stop, turning to Applejack right as she did. "And you, Applejack? How do you manage?" "Hmm..." Applejack took a slow sip through her straw as she gathered her thoughts. "Kinda hard to say, really. Most of the time I start to feel a little ornery I spend more time in the orchard than usual. Workin' more, stayin' out longer. Though of course if I'm gettin' a little temperamental when with one of y'all I got a tendency of just tryin' to leave. Or uh, arguin', if it's real bad." "I see." Rarity leaned forward to take a taste of her unsweetened-tea, but only ended up moving the straw around with her magic. "I of course am a touch different. I have to let my feelings be known, I suppose. It's too much, otherwise." She looked down at her hooves, recently polished but already needing to be touched-up again. "You two have never... just broken down, then? Let it all out into the open? Reacted a little too much, as it were?" The look Twilight gave her was simultaneously scathing and deeply embarrassed. Rarity mumbled out a 'sorry'. Applejack huffed a laugh. "I try and keep myself on the level, I think. I'm not stone or nothin', though. Apple Bloom of course can get my emotions runnin' pretty wild, and I've fallen out pretty bad once, I cleanly recall." Rarity and Twilight tipped their heads, with Rarity voicing their shared thought: "Just the once?" Applejack hummed and took another sip of her tea, closing her eyes as she swallowed. "Just the once." A melancholic air overtook the table, and it only helped to push Rarity deeper into the recesses of her mind. Compared to her own behavior (and Twilight's town-spanning outlier), Applejack either put her frustration into working harder or simply tried to separate herself until she calmed down. She didn't cry her woes to the stars, didn't drown herself in comfort food and fluffy bedding. Applejack didn't have to dump every one of her little issues all at once to keep functioning. She wasn't like Rarity. I'm not like her. "Of course I'm not," Rarity said. Both of her friends perked back up and looked in her direction. Somewhat embarrassed, Rarity lightly adjusted her mane with a hoof. "My apologies. Just— thinking a little too loudly. We all have our manner of dealing with things, is what was on my mind. We'd all approach things differently, and that fascinated me." "Sure. Barring directly and obviously unhealthy choices, there isn't a right or 'wrong' way among them for anypony. You, ah, let it all out, I talk it out, Applejack works it out. Fluttershy... uhm, she's been getting there. Ultimately we all have been able to keep pulling ourselves together again. You don't have to feel ashamed, Rarity." Rarity gave a low chuckle, smiling even if she still didn't feel it completely. "You've gotten very adept at reading ponies, Twilight. Thank you, I needed to hear that." "Yup. Ain't nothin' to be frettin' over, hon. We're all built just the way we were meant to be built, I reckon." "Of course you'd say that," Rarity said, smooth as anything. Quickly afterwards, however, she course-corrected into something the wasn't so needlessly icy. "We're quite the colorful set, aren't we?" If that earlier hint of venom had been noticed, nopony acknowledged it. Instead Applejack nodded in agreement. "Yup, and that's why I'm always happy to take y'all for who and how ya are. You need to holler, go on and holler. Don't go comparin' yourself or any of that silly mess, y'hear?" Yes. What point was there in trying to compare herself to somepony who had perfect hair and a body that didn't need to be micro-managed and felt like her absolute default was all she needed to face the world and didn't deserve didn't even care about all the ways she was Really it was just another moment of Applejack being unaware to the point of insensitivity how could she be so flippant about all the things that Rarity constantly drove herself mad for and "I think," Rarity began, forcing herself to finish her very tasteless tea to try and wash away the knot in her belly. "I will be returning home. Sautéed sunflowers didn't seem to agree with my stomach." "Oh! I'm sorry, Rarity. That's unfortunate, I thought they'd go over well." Twilight waved to the waiter with a small frown. "I'll get the bill, don't worry. I hope you feel better." "Dang. Want some company on the walk back, Rares?" "No," Rarity said, making sure to avoid watching the way Applejack's very being seemed to blend perfectly with the afternoon light. Applejack was pretty, and she was lucky to be so effortlessly pretty in a way that— That Rarity could never— "I'll be fine," Rarity finally continued, even if the words seemed to have to fight their way past the growing cavern in her chest. She closed her eyes, and felt weak when forced to acknowledge that the lack of Applejack in her vision did indeed bring her a touch of comfort. "I believe I just..." Why couldn't you want to be like me, instead? "I just need a little time." She turned away from the table and her ugly, pitiful feelings. "I'll get over it soon. I promise."
LippyPushiness was not a trait many ponies guessed could be associated with Rarity. If they were to be graced by her presence for long enough, they'd quickly find themselves wrong. A quirk of her self-assuredness, perhaps. When she saw an opportunity for change, an opportunity to do, she rarely ever hesitated. This was true in many avenues in her life. She pushed her designs, always ready to jump ahead of the fashion trends of the season, to try and buck them aside and lead them herself. She pushed herself, staying awake into the darkest hours of night simply to complete sketches or finish up designs that came to her in a spark of creativity. Push, push, push. You can always be more than you are! There's always something beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed and adored. In the budding years of her career that pushiness had been a savior. When her thoughts turned against her, when she'd been denied chances to present her efforts to ponies of higher status... ...it's rather unattractive. Maybe I really can't...no. No, no. It's just a little rough around the edges. Unfinished. I'll make this dress a true masterpiece! Wait! If these designs don't please you then let me offer you something else! You won't be disappointed again! She pushed herself, because she knew she was capable. She pushed others, not because she held them to some impossible standard, but because she knew everypony could see past the layers of everything if they tried. To strive toward the pinnacle and come out something beyond what they were before. It was well-intentioned. "Celestia's sun, Rares can ya please just lay off?" Most of the time. "I will when you wash off, Applejack." A long-suffering groan rose from Applejack's throat, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes. Rarity, in turn, narrowed her eyes at the sweat and flecks of dirt marring Applejack's throat. When she lifted her gaze, Applejack was once again looking at her, mouth twisted downward. "Look, I just got a little too into workin' and lost track of time. I was messin' with crops. And I ain't even really that—" Rarity scoffed. "Don't say it! You were working in the dirt, therefore you are dur-tee, Applejack. I tell you time and time again that you must value your appearance more! You're too—" pretty "What's the word this time? Boorish?" "Mmm, tried and true. You strode through town with dirt on yourself, in this hot, mucky weather, and you care not one whit about that fact?" "Tch. Who's gonna be lookin' all that hard?" "Me, for one." Rarity wrinkled her nose in distaste. "It's incredible, almost unthinkable really— I care more about your hygiene than you do. For shame, Applejack." There. She knew she struck true. Something dark flashed behind the emerald expanse of Applejack's eyes, and she took a dangerous step forward. Rarity held her head higher and remained unmoved. "I dunno what yer malfunction is today, Rarity, but I ain't likin' it. I'm dirty cuz I didn't want you held up with watchin' both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom longer than ya wanted. I'm oh so sorry for tryin' to be considerate!" "Well you ought to have considered not making me gaze at such disastrously muddy hooves. Watching the girls is never a problem, Applejack, but your complete disregard for yourself is. Even just a bare minimum scrubbing would've been enough!" "Well ain't you just—!" Applejack's breathing was short and tight, and Rarity subtly focused her gaze on Applejack's eyebrows. It was fascinating how tastefully sized they were. Not too large, nor too thin. They came to accentuate her eyes perfectly. Rarity knew she'd never plucked them. Probably didn't realize that she even could. ("Ooo! Look, Hondo, look! Aren't they starting to thicken up like yours? Cute little purple caterpillars!" "Oh, wouldja look at that? She appreciates the 'brows, attagirl!") When Rarity returned her focus to the entirety of her face, anger had brought a subtle red tinge to her cheeks. Even her blinking had changed, the increased raising and lowering of her lids making her thick, curled eyelashes flutter. She surely wasn't aware she had lashes many mares would envy. She could go a step further, Rarity knew. Just a few more careful words and she could make Applejack storm off entirely. She could envision it; Applejack bellowing for Apple Bloom and rushing off together as soon as she arrived. Rarity would be able to watch her disappear, follow the heavy stomp stomp stomping of her hooves until it all faded into silence. Applejack wouldn't stew on what had been said for long, though. Wouldn't care about anything Rarity had mentioned and instead would pass it off as her being in a prissy mood. She'd brush it aside, and forgive her just as quickly. Then they'd meet up again at some point and it'd be like it had simply never happened. Applejack had a very good heart. Rarity exhaled, riding the sudden wave of self-disgust into her next comment; "Hmph. If nothing else I do see that your intentions were noble. I'll forgive you, again, for your trespass against fabulousness. I know how this season begs a lot from you." Bomb defused, easy as always. Applejack's sigh was a mix of frustration and exasperation, and as it left her lungs so did her anger. She made to adjust her hat, lifting a hoof, but Rarity beat her to the punch with her magic. She still held her little frown, but there wasn't much fuel behind it. Applejack rolled her eyes and took a step back, severing the closeness between them. "Gee, ain't you just as kind as can be? Can ya send out 'Bloom, now? We really ought to start headin' back." "Yes, yes. Of course. I'll just be a moment." Rarity turned around and stepped into her boutique. She wondered what the girls were doing upstairs. She thought about the two orders that were due by the end of the week. She imagined how little time Applejack would spend on washing her hair, tonight. "Girls! Apple Bloom! Gather your things, Applejack's here!" It wasn't anything quite so horrible, she idly mused as she nudged open the door to Sweetie Belle's room and watched them hurriedly clean up whatever scheme for cutie marks they'd been brewing for the day. She loved bringing out the beauty in things. It invigorated her, made her feel incredible and hopefully made whatever caught her eye feel even better. Applejack was, however, the most frustratingly uncut gem she'd ever witnessed. No, even while 'uncut', her natural beauty still shone through. For as pragmatic and 'simple 'n easy' of an approach she took regarding herself, it was impossible to not notice. Not impossible for some ponies, actually. Rarity swallowed down a displeased, very much unladylike grunt. That only made her all the more frustrating of a mare. "Done! Race ya, Sweetie Belle!" "Ok- Wha-! No fair, you started early! Wait!" A blur of yellow and white zipped past her, and Rarity turned to follow them with a tired, subtly fond sigh. It didn't please her, to do what she did. It felt... cruel. It added a level of calculation to their interactions that left her at a distance from herself. But if she wouldn't accept even the subtlest of makeup, refused even the suggestion of a different mane style... She'd simply keep reminding Applejack how bad it was to waste an appearance such as hers. The facts would have to stick, one day.
LookerThere was an art to getting oneself prepared for the day. If nothing else, Rarity had made sure to turn it into one. When she first awoke, she'd quickly take note of what position she was in. It played into various things, you see. If she was on her back, then she'd be more thorough in combing out the area of her mane nearer to her neck. More combing leeway was allotted if she awoke on her side, but she still opted to make sure her mane curl was done a little tighter than usual. If, on the rare occasion she ended up sleeping in a prone position, she made sure to double the time she spent refreshing her face. After that, she'd actually get out of bed. Her robe and slippers were shed, and her hairpins were carefully removed. After all her nightwear had been set aside she'd disappear into the bathroom. Therein, she'd begin the longest part of her morning. First, Rarity turned on the tub's showerhead. This was but the precursor, so she could simply hop in while it was lukewarm and let the stream flow down her mane and body. Three-ish minutes in there, and she could step out. Her horn glowed blue and she plugged the drain. She'd make the water hotter, then, and pick between whichever wash she hadn't used this week. (She'd forgotten, once, and re-used a wash that had the scent of snapdragon flowers. "Uhm, Rarity. I meant to ask yesterday, but is that a perfume? It's pretty." "Mmm? Why it's no perfume, Fluttershy! Sunset Savor's Snapdragon Soirée, a rather incredible body wash, might I say." "Oh, okay. I'm glad you used it again, I love it." Again, she had said, and Rarity felt an embarrassment so potent she ended up not using the wash for an entire month.) Never again. Her choice for today would be Calming Caress, a newer purchase with the scent of calla lilies. Distinctiveness was mastered when you could work with its subtleties. Her visage alone was striking, this she knew, but it was the little features that could really influence one's memories. The pretty white mare that smelled of roses. No, the mare with astoundingly purple hair that wore the scent of lavender. It was yet another thing that Rarity had discovered as she grew older and was able to expand her horizons beyond Ponyville. Scent played a large role in the recollection of memories. She always wanted ponies to remember her. Back on track; she slid into the tub. The water and bubbles took her in and cradled her like a lover, soaking into her body and filling her nose with a scent that, funnily, only stoked her energy. She took careful care in washing herself, giving every limb thorough strokes. When she'd gone all over her body once, she'd repeat the process again. When the second run was complete she'd finally extract herself from the water. Drying herself was no major thing. Her towels were wonderfully absorbent and not too rough on the fur. She made sure to keep her hair-dryer in impeccable condition, too. After she'd assured that she was suitably dry, Rarity would clean up after herself, making sure there were no suds in the tub or water on the floor. Then, she'd move to the sink. Brushing her teeth was a slow, careful process. She measured out her toothpaste with a sharp eye, and only went about brushing once she was assured that it was enough to freshen her breath but not offend the senses of others she may talk to. Her brushing was heavy, but still slow. She made sure to let the bristles catch in the little grooves between all her teeth, and only let herself brush across both rows in a more normal manner once she felt she'd been thorough enough. There was a small cup placed right beside the sink's faucet. She took it within her magic and turned the water on. She let the cup fill a little above halfway before downing it, swishing the water about in her mouth. A little afterward, she bent down and released (not spat!) it back into the sink. Now clean, Rarity returned to her room and parked herself in front of her vanity. She'd meticulously part her mane and go about working the necessary gels into it, and, when that was done, levitated her curling iron over and began the process of creating her magnificent curls. Almost. Almost complete. She lowered her iron and looked into the mirror. Nearly-Rarity looked back. Nearly-Rarity still needed her makeup. Her horn lit, and she dragged her makeup kit before her. She withdrew a set of false eyelashes, first. Putting them on was rote, a simple affair that she had mastered after years of using them. They were, in her opinion, the most vital part of her ensemble. She required them, couldn't even imagine attempting the day without them on. Applejack doesn't even need them. Applejack's eyelashes are— The eyeshadow was next, and she gingerly painted one lowered lid before swapping to the other. She had a variety of eyeshadows, a banquet of lapis and aegean and sapphire. Today she'd put on cerulean. She looked into the mirror again and finally saw herself; complete.
LecherIt was a personal secret, something she'd never admit to any of them, but Rarity had a ranking of her friends and their usefulness as models. Twilight was deeply reliable. Perhaps an extension of her natural curiosity, she'd come to enjoy helping out whenever Rarity wished to try out a design on a mare of her shape. She'd remain ram-rod straight during measurements, hardly ever flinched away from her sewing pins, and even offered assistance in bringing over fabrics with her magic to help the process along. Her one flaw, perhaps, was that she tended to move when she talked. The movements were subtle, little shifts of her hooves, moving her head a little more in whatever direction Rarity was, laughs that seemed to roll all throughout her body. Ultimately negligible, but inconvenient every now and again. Fluttershy was helpful. She liked to stay quiet and had no problem remaining mostly statue-like as Rarity focused. She was always the most willing to help out, too, the dear. As helpful a model as she was, she wasn't a perfect one. Rarity usually had to correct her poses. Fluttershy could never seem to lift her wings high enough, stick her hind-leg out far enough. It was nothing horrible, but a few seconds always had to be devoted to nudging her into a better position. When it came time for Rarity to mess with her sewing pins, a wave of tension always tightened up Fluttershy's body. They caused minute tremors that never went away until the pins were gone. Ultimately still a lovely help. (She had pricked her once, a long time ago, and Rarity had never forgiven herself.) Dash and Pinkie could be squished into the same tier, because they held many similar... 'quirks'. Almost impossible to keep them still, and vocal to the point of distraction. In fairness to Pinkie, she was very earnest, and of course kind. She wasn't a great model, but she surely enjoyed helping out. Dash, more often than not, would groan and grumble if the outfit didn't immediately seem interesting to her. Even in the situations where the outfit did interest her, her impatience would eventually rear its head. Spike couldn't be ranked, not exactly. It was rare for him to model for her out of necessity, and more just for sparks of inspiration for an outfit she'd imagined for him. In the area of assisting her while she worked with somepony else, he was quite the dutiful little dragon. Applejack... At some point Applejack had become the hardest for her to work with. By all rights, she wasn't a bad model. Like Rainbow Dash, standing still wasn't exactly something she preferred. When she couldn't hide her discomfort she'd do a tiny prance in place, which would in turn force Rarity to pull away and allow her to regather herself. But in the interims before and after that she was exemplary, never needing her poses corrected or moving around too often. She was unfathomably sturdy. ("Careful now with those pins, Rares." "Goodness, did I prick you? You hadn't so much as flinched so I didn't even realize. Forgive me." An easy-going smile and good natured shrug. "S'alright, hon.") It was almost comical, one of the other friends she most preferred to have at hoof for her work was by and far the least interested in joining in, or would be outright too busy to do so. As they'd grown closer she accepted Rarity's requests more, but the farm beckoned, and it ultimately came down to how willing she was to spend a few precious hours of her day standing around. In the end, Applejack was amongst Twilight and Fluttershy in being her go-tos when she needed a live pony to work on. Applejack wasn't the problem. Or, perhaps, she was. "I'll need to measure your neck. Head up, please." "Allllrighty." At Rarity's behest, her head tipped backward. The long column of her throat laid bare to Rarity, and the unicorn wasted no time in stepping forward with her tape measure and fabric. There was a certain allure in necks. After years of accentuating them via clothing and jewelry, Rarity felt she had a rather strong idea of what an attractive neck looked like. It was a silly thing to say, by itself, but many ponies couldn't see the entirety of the part they played in a pony's aestheticism. There was nothing innately attractive in a neck that was too long, nor in a neck that was too thin. A balance need to be found in the shape, the size, to work in tandem not with just the head but the front half of a pony's body entirely. Rarity lifted a hoof and, keeping her expression blank, gently settled it on Applejack's throat. She was warm. It wasn't cold in the boutique, but the feel of fur sent a pleasant current of heat up her arm. Her hoof slid down, almost settling onto her breast. Instead, she stopped and lifted up the fabric with her magic, and began to wrap it around Applejack's neck. Applejack's neck was— pleasing. In contrast to how powerful a worker she was, it was not bulky. It was larger around then her own (or any of their other friend's, for that matter), but not in such a way that it would make her look too overly muscled. It was longer than Rarity's too, something the average eye could easily miss. Stretched like it was then, Rarity realized even the small curve of the slope it made when Applejack tilted her head back was dazzling. Sometimes, when her mind escaped her, Rarity imagined that neck adorned in various accessories. Scarves, neckties. Necklaces, chokers. She imagined what exactly could make that already perfect neck flawless. It thrilled her to no end to imagine being able to decorate it with the rare designs and ideas that she could never seem to get right when developing them alone. Applejack would be able to dress up in colors that Rarity could personally never hope to pull off in fear of nightmarish clashing. "I'll do your legs, now," Rarity said softly. "Gotcha." Her head tipped back down and she straightened herself up while Rarity moved to her side. Just like before, there was no hesitation in the movement of Rarity's hoof. She settled it right atop Applejack's cutie mark, and, slowly trailed her way downward. "I'm considering the idea of having the dress run higher in the back, and lower underneath. There's an entire design that needs to be tied into the tail and I think that would better help emphasize it, just a touch." "Mm." She could see the subtle motion of Applejack nodding from the corner of her eye. "My opinion? Long as it don't mean no stumblin' while tryin' to walk, sounds fine. Though I figure ya already was thinkin' about that, of course?" "Please. What do you take me for, darling? I," She draped a sheet of fabric across Applejack's back, carefully looping it underneath her stomach so she could adjust it into the basic shape she had in mind for the dress. With a low exhale, she slipped her hoof beneath the fabric and began to run it against the inner side of Applejack's hock and gaskin. "...Know exactly what I'm doing." She could feel the subtlest twitch beneath her hoof as she pressed and stroked. Not too hard, not for too long. Every now and again she'd lay her tape measure against the length of her leg, or curl it around it horizontally. All the while she only thought of the stockings she had envisioned going with the outfit. She wondered if they were really needed, or if she ought to forego them instead. It was hard to imagine the ensemble without them, they were there to flavorfully accentuate what you could see of the hind-legs of the pony wearing them, were you to focus on them. It would be an outfit that would look good on Applejack. Applejack had nice legs. They were muscular, that was a given, but the shape of them; they were a good length, thicker than average but nothing grotesque. In truth her entire back-half was well-made, holding a subtle, soft shapeliness that influenced just how pleasing she looked in motion or otherwise. It was a near miracle, a mare with a nature as physical as hers being able to have such strength and not be burdened with the typical, bulky form side-effect. You could feel her muscles easily when you ran your hooves across her body, but a cursory glance made you assume she was just an 'active' mare and nothing more. It drove her to madness that Applejack did not see herself for what she was. She had been born blessed with all the right cards, physically. Why had it fallen to her to shine a light on that fact? Why couldn't she just see she was so... (In the past, Rarity had picked up a light muscle training regimen out of sheer curiosity for the results. To her horror, she realized she built up muscle quite similarly to her father. She abandoned the whole idea once she noticed how easily her forelegs had thickened, how her shoulders had broadened.) "Alright...! Forgive me, I'm done with your legs now." "Was wonderin' what was goin' on. Thought you were figurin' I wasn't a great choice for this one, or somethin'. Bucky 'n Kicks givin' you trouble?" "Oh, no! Nothing of the sort. Just trying to figure out how I'd like to go about the leggings that go alongside this. I apologize if I was making you uncomfortable, I fell a little too deeply into my thinking." "Ya know how many times you've done this? Ain't no sweat." "You really are too kind, Applejack. Well then," Rarity fought down the compulsion to give a hearty pat to Applejack's thigh and rose. "I'll be doing your tail, now, and after that we'll be finished." Rather than respond, Applejack let her tail droop. Rarity wasted no time in moving behind her and lifting it with her magic. She stretched it out, raising it somewhere around her chest. The tail accessory was a bow ribbon that would wind its tails around the, well, tail, and tie into another bow at the end. Thus, the outfit obviously needed to be worn by mares with hair of suitable length. Ultimately Rarity just needed to figure out how it ought to be tied. Tight, so the tails of the ribbons had little room? Should they be loose? Floating a roll of silver ribbon over, she made a neat little bow right at the top of Applejack's tail. She switched from holding her tail with her aura to lifting it with a raised hoof, and began to wind and unwind the ribbon's tails in various ways with her magic. Applejack's tail was a nice, fluffy warmth in her grasp. It was such a pleasing shade of blonde, and so voluminous! How could she stand to keep it tied up in such simple ways? (Once, Applejack had let Rarity style her mane after she'd had an especially unpleasant customer. Call it a compulsion, but Rarity ended up more interested in seeing if Applejack had any non-blonde strands, somewhere. She didn't. Rarity had been shocked. Meanwhile, she had to meticulously hunt down and viciously pluck the inherited brown strands that hid away in her mane.) She didn't think it necessary to pour hours of devotion into her mane and tail. Didn't feel the compulsion to gather strengthening gels and sprays. How was that fair? To have such beauty at the ready and feel not a touch of desire to see it borne into the world? Where was the disconnection? "I think wrapping one tail of the ribbon to the left and the other to the right leads to a nice look. Simple, too. Applejack, my dear, I do believe we're done." "Hoo-wee!" The moment Rarity stepped back, Applejack was in motion. She shook like a dog and leapt down off the podium. She kicked her left hindleg, kicked her right, then rolled her neck around. Finally content that she'd done enough to re-awaken her body, she turned to Rarity. "Charming," Rarity said with an arched brow and faint smile. "Ain't I always?" Applejack adjusted her hat with an easy grin. "Ya need anythin' else?" Rarity gently rapped a hoof against her chin as she thought. "Mmm... no, sadly. Though I don't suppose you'd like to stay and help me start sewing things together?" "Suppose I could, but only if you're alright with my main experience bein' quilts?" "Oh! Oh that's... er, thank you anyway, Applejack." Applejack's smile somehow grew wider, openly affectionate and forever affable. "Heh. Ain't no problem, Rares. I'll jus' head on home, then." Somewhere within her chest, she felt a slight pain as more of Applejack's perfectly aligned, pearl white teeth were revealed to her. It slid its way downward and settled in her stomach like a spiked ball. (Rarity had to be careful, sometimes, in pictures. When she grinned too large, or stretched her mouth too wide. On occasion she'd look— strange.) When Applejack was gone, Rarity looked over her design sketch. Her eyebrows drew together as she stared down at it, the creative high finally sobering. Hardly any of it came together coherently, like it was nothing more than a hodge-podge of pretty ideas, rather then a comprehensive whole. She certainly couldn't imagine herself in it, and if she couldn't imagine herself making it look good, then who else could ever hope to— She stuffed her drawing into a drawer full of similarly side-lined ideas, ascended the stairs, and disappeared into her room.
LunchRarity liked food. In fact, she liked food more than most anypony would realize. Oh, she could titter and gush about the tiniest of expensive Canterlotian meals with the best of high-society, but her core could not be denied. She liked nibbling at Pinkie Pie's sugary-sweet hoof-work, would sometimes indulge Dash in taking a few of the overly-cheesy hayfries she loved to munch on, rarely turned away a small tin of baked goods from the Apples. Ice cream, too, was a vice that she was to quick to indulge in her more emotional moments. She liked food. She didn't like how much she liked food. It sent a chill up her spine, on occasion, when she was struck with a desire to simply just eat. Eat whatever came to her mind. Perhaps a hayburger, this fine afternoon? An omelet, maybe, stuffed thick enough to spill out. A slice of cake? How about a soda or two? The cravings would come and go in waves, every few weeks. Her mind would drift for a moment and when it'd return to her she'd feel ashamed. Her typical diet had long since been carefully developed, she knew exactly what needed to be done to keep her body in acceptable visual parameters. It was already a thin line she sometimes tread when indulging her friends when eating together, but falling to compulsions by herself, for no reason beyond her own mental weakness... (Muscles like her father was one burden all on its own. But she'd taken after her mother, too. Any excess weight never gave her the small benefit of at least accumulating in more— tolerable areas. Always, without fail, a readily apparent pudginess would begin to widen her face, and her stomach would soon follow along to bloat downward and outward. She could never let herself get past a certain weight, ever.) It was frustrating, the fickleness of her body. Of course, beauty was something to be strived for, but sometimes the fight was simply exhausting. Perfect truly wasn't easy. It isn't easy for you. Swallowing down her spike of frustration, Rarity levitated over a bagel from the picnic basket settled in front of her. She rotated it in her magic, eyeing the size of it, and summarily tore in half. Just as she prepared to take a small bite, Pinkie manifested in front of her, hoof outstretched. "Waitwaitwait! Try it with this, try it with this! Me and Mr.Cake were messing with jelly recipes, last night! It's super sweet and really good and you shouldn't eat a bagel plain I mean why would you even wanna?" Rarity gazed at the jar in Pinkie's hoof with narrowed, critical eyes. She'd already eaten two cookies. Yesterday she'd put four cubes of sugar in her tea rather than the usual three. "Sorry, dear, I'm not sure I could. I doubt I'll even be able to finish just this half." Pinkie visibly deflated, only to immediately lock her eyes on the other half of the bagel Rarity had set aside. "Ooo! Then can I—" "It's all yours." The bagel disappeared from the napkin she'd placed it on in a blur of pink. Pinkie, too, vanished, leaving behind a few crumbs and a splash of the jelly on the picnic blanket. Rarity clicked her tongue, but bit at her bagel with a tiny smile. The bagel, though plain, wasn't at all unpleasant, though who could expect anything less from something baked at Sugarcube Corner? "You're missin' out, y'know? They really hit it outta the park with the jelly, there." "Oh, I don't doubt," Rarity said, lowering the last little bit of her bagel away from her mouth a touch. Applejack settled down beside her, having slid her own plate of food closer. She had cookies, a cupcake, two muffins, and a recently topped-off glass of lemonade. Rarity carefully looked away from it all. "Beyond her more... inspired... creations, Pinkie does quite well, and quite often." "No kiddin'! I'm serious, these cookies? Dunno what she did different, but mmm-mm!" She stuffed one into her mouth for emphasis, chewing happily. "Want some of mine? I grabbed plenty." Rarity watched the cookie disappear with rapt attention, until she remembered that she needed to gag at the crumbs that had also flown everywhere. "Much appreciated, but I couldn't conceive of eating any more. I've certainly had my fill, and then some." She carefully dusted away the crumbs that had gotten too close to her with a napkin, then used another to dab at Applejack's face. She snorted at Rarity's actions, but didn't put up a fight. "Seriously? Ya already eat like a bird. A few more cookies ain't gonna hurt you none." "One must always be aware and considerate of their body, Applejack. Besides, I truly am full. I just don't have the tongue for too many sweets, really." How would the jelly have tasted? "C'mon, now. Ain't nopony judgin' ya, good eats is good eats. Not like you're gonna eat more than Pinkie, anyhow, heh." There were five cookies on Applejack's plate. "It isn't about being judged," Rarity bit out, unsure why it had slipped free almost unconsciously. "Not everypony has the same type of constitution. Just because you can eat to your heart's content doesn't mean that everypony else can." Rarity scrunched and turned her head away. "Or will want to, for that matter." An irritated sigh sounded off from beside her. "I was just offerin'. Didn't mean to cause no fuss." "It's fine," Rarity quickly replied. "I know you meant well. All of the food is quite amazing. I just— like to keep my portions in mind. I apologize, it's a rather silly thing to get huffy over." "Yeah it is," and Rarity just knew Applejack was smirking outside of her view. "But if ya didn't wanna eat ya didn't wanna eat. I haven't ever thought about all that stuff, too much." "Hmm?" Rarity turned her gaze back to Applejack. "Portion sizes, you mean?" "Yup." Applejack lifted a muffin to her mouth and took a hefty bite. Thankfully, she swallowed before continuing to speak. "I've had a mighty strong appetite ever since I was a filly. Always ate like I do, always will, I think. Guess I'm lucky the farm keeps me so busy, huh?" An ugly snort broke free from Rarity before she could suffocate it. She quickly covered it up by gently coughing into her hoof. Lucky. Hah. "While it wouldn't be so horrible to keep these things in mind for the future, you are correct. You do more than enough physical work to keep things in line. Even then, perhaps you Apples simply have a special type of physiology, to boot. Who could say?" "Y'know, with the way Granny can still pack away food I just might agree." Applejack took a final bite of her muffin, expression a touch thoughtful. "You make it look easy, honestly. I'd probably keel over and howl if I had to start thinkin' 'bout eatin' like you do." She shrugged. "Things'll keep workin' out, I guess." Rarity curled her left forehoof into the picnic blanket, messing up her previous effort of perfectly spreading it out. She exhaled and looked away. "Mm. Should we all be so lucky." Before her thoughts could spiral, Rarity picked up the last little bit of her bagel and ate it. It still tasted fine. Some small part of her knew it would taste even better with jelly, but she ignored that thought and spent the rest of the picnic in silence.
LoserRarity was fully capable of admitting that when her emotions got the best of her, she was prone to theatrics. Her friends could tell you that. Her family could tell you that. Ponyvillians that she was wasn't even all that intimate with could tell you that. It was just how she was. When the woes of the world tried to overtake her, she'd wail and sob until they crawled away, defeated. It brought her a level of catharsis that she could never fully explain. When her fits were over she'd, of course, endeavor to quickly pull herself back together and sweep it from her memory. But in those exact moments during, she simply didn't care. She'd kick, roll around, cry to the point of utterly ruined makeup, and eat however much ice cream would settle her nerves. It was, put as favorably as possible, a very colorful coping mechanism. She couldn't explain why she behaved like that. It wasn't an act, certainly not. When her feelings reached a fever-pitch it was like she went on auto-pilot. She had to let it all out, had to shed her skin and empty all of the unpleasantness into the air so that it might evaporate entirely. It may not have fit her image, but it always felt good. Still, it bothered her, sometimes. Everypony was different. Mussed up emotions required a unique, special touch for everypony currently burdened with them. Not everypony could simply take their pain in silence. But her little outbursts could be a tad... much. Foalish, even, but she hated to even consider the notion of the word describing anything about her. It overtook her thoughts every now and again. Anytime it happened, it really was like she was resetting herself to default. No, like she was finally emptying a bucket that was just about to overflow. It was never just whatever situation at hoof that she was carrying on about. There was always more, she realized. Always some past discomfort, distaste, or displeasure that was being soothed, even if she didn't realize so at the time. Ultimately, it more than likely came down to her work. No matter how much she adored what she did, it brought with it unique stresses and strains that, most of the time, needed to put aside for the sake of the art. That could easily lead to a sort-of emotional build-up. So, when the nonsensical desire to collapse and forego every part of her true image overtook her, it understandably hit rather hard. (She remembered one particularly moody day for her. She'd ended up rolling around so much that both sets of her false lashes had fallen off. That, oddly, had made her feel better to the point she pulled herself together only five or so minutes later. It was something she always found to be silly whenever it came to mind. What could have been so comforting in not having them on?) Could she carry on like that forever? "How do you handle stress?" Applejack and Twilight looked up from their respective cups of iced-tea. Twilight gave a thoughtful hum, shifting a little on top of the cafe's outdoor pillow-cushion before responding. "Well, assuming I'm not, ah, too far gone in one direction, I like to talk aloud and reason things out myself. Writing my thoughts down can be beneficial too. There's also the forever effective method of 'having Spike point out I'm being silly'." All three mares laughed. Rarity was the first to stop, turning to Applejack right as she did. "And you, Applejack? How do you manage?" "Hmm..." Applejack took a slow sip through her straw as she gathered her thoughts. "Kinda hard to say, really. Most of the time I start to feel a little ornery I spend more time in the orchard than usual. Workin' more, stayin' out longer. Though of course if I'm gettin' a little temperamental when with one of y'all I got a tendency of just tryin' to leave. Or uh, arguin', if it's real bad." "I see." Rarity leaned forward to take a taste of her unsweetened-tea, but only ended up moving the straw around with her magic. "I of course am a touch different. I have to let my feelings be known, I suppose. It's too much, otherwise." She looked down at her hooves, recently polished but already needing to be touched-up again. "You two have never... just broken down, then? Let it all out into the open? Reacted a little too much, as it were?" The look Twilight gave her was simultaneously scathing and deeply embarrassed. Rarity mumbled out a 'sorry'. Applejack huffed a laugh. "I try and keep myself on the level, I think. I'm not stone or nothin', though. Apple Bloom of course can get my emotions runnin' pretty wild, and I've fallen out pretty bad once, I cleanly recall." Rarity and Twilight tipped their heads, with Rarity voicing their shared thought: "Just the once?" Applejack hummed and took another sip of her tea, closing her eyes as she swallowed. "Just the once." A melancholic air overtook the table, and it only helped to push Rarity deeper into the recesses of her mind. Compared to her own behavior (and Twilight's town-spanning outlier), Applejack either put her frustration into working harder or simply tried to separate herself until she calmed down. She didn't cry her woes to the stars, didn't drown herself in comfort food and fluffy bedding. Applejack didn't have to dump every one of her little issues all at once to keep functioning. She wasn't like Rarity. I'm not like her. "Of course I'm not," Rarity said. Both of her friends perked back up and looked in her direction. Somewhat embarrassed, Rarity lightly adjusted her mane with a hoof. "My apologies. Just— thinking a little too loudly. We all have our manner of dealing with things, is what was on my mind. We'd all approach things differently, and that fascinated me." "Sure. Barring directly and obviously unhealthy choices, there isn't a right or 'wrong' way among them for anypony. You, ah, let it all out, I talk it out, Applejack works it out. Fluttershy... uhm, she's been getting there. Ultimately we all have been able to keep pulling ourselves together again. You don't have to feel ashamed, Rarity." Rarity gave a low chuckle, smiling even if she still didn't feel it completely. "You've gotten very adept at reading ponies, Twilight. Thank you, I needed to hear that." "Yup. Ain't nothin' to be frettin' over, hon. We're all built just the way we were meant to be built, I reckon." "Of course you'd say that," Rarity said, smooth as anything. Quickly afterwards, however, she course-corrected into something the wasn't so needlessly icy. "We're quite the colorful set, aren't we?" If that earlier hint of venom had been noticed, nopony acknowledged it. Instead Applejack nodded in agreement. "Yup, and that's why I'm always happy to take y'all for who and how ya are. You need to holler, go on and holler. Don't go comparin' yourself or any of that silly mess, y'hear?" Yes. What point was there in trying to compare herself to somepony who had perfect hair and a body that didn't need to be micro-managed and felt like her absolute default was all she needed to face the world and didn't deserve didn't even care about all the ways she was Really it was just another moment of Applejack being unaware to the point of insensitivity how could she be so flippant about all the things that Rarity constantly drove herself mad for and "I think," Rarity began, forcing herself to finish her very tasteless tea to try and wash away the knot in her belly. "I will be returning home. Sautéed sunflowers didn't seem to agree with my stomach." "Oh! I'm sorry, Rarity. That's unfortunate, I thought they'd go over well." Twilight waved to the waiter with a small frown. "I'll get the bill, don't worry. I hope you feel better." "Dang. Want some company on the walk back, Rares?" "No," Rarity said, making sure to avoid watching the way Applejack's very being seemed to blend perfectly with the afternoon light. Applejack was pretty, and she was lucky to be so effortlessly pretty in a way that— That Rarity could never— "I'll be fine," Rarity finally continued, even if the words seemed to have to fight their way past the growing cavern in her chest. She closed her eyes, and felt weak when forced to acknowledge that the lack of Applejack in her vision did indeed bring her a touch of comfort. "I believe I just..." Why couldn't you want to be like me, instead? "I just need a little time." She turned away from the table and her ugly, pitiful feelings. "I'll get over it soon. I promise."
