Planescape: Equestria 18

>You make your way through the palace grounds back to your rooms with Twilight trotting close behind as Pinkie quizzes you extensively on human parties, nodding along and chiming in enthusiastically as she finds points of resemblance, of which there are plenty.
>As you reach the hallway to your suite she’s stunned into momentary silence by the revelation that you don’t know what a ‘speaker’ is, let alone a ‘turntable’, ‘DJ’, ‘bass drop’, ‘wub’, or any of the other dozen increasingly outlandish terms she fires off.
>A huge grin begins to spread across her face.
“…just wait… you’ll see…”
>You shoot a worried glance at her; the gleeful, scheming expression she’s wearing does less than nothing to reassure you.
 >You’d quite like to at least make the attempt to glean some details on what delights or horrors await you, but you find yourself already at the door to your suite with the sound of voices coming from within.
“I’m -just- saying,” you catch through the closed door, “we need to keep an eye out. Everyp0ny’s so trusting. What do we even know about him?”
>There’s a noncommittal murmur in reply.
>You’d sure like to park your ears for more of this, but Pinkie and Twilight are soon going to be wondering why you’re just standing around in the hallway.

>You open the door to a vision of organised chaos: Rarity has turned the living room into her workshop, spreading out over every available surface with fabric, thread, and dressmaker’s tools.
>The lady of the domain stands bespectacled in the midst of it all, several different pieces of fabric levitating around her along with scissors, needle and thread as she works in total absorption.
>Rainbow Dash hovers upside-down several feet above the floor nearby, her blue wings keeping her aloft with lazy flaps.
“Oh, hey you guys,” she greets the three of you, slowly rolling in mid-air until she’s right way up again. “Sure is good to see you, Rarity’s not exactly the most fun to hang out with when she’s working.”
“…yes, I DO apologise again for my less than effervescent conversation, Rainbow,” Rarity says with a hint of reproach. “But I have been RATHER busy.”
>She turns briefly to look over her glasses at you, Pinkie and Twilight, offering a smile and a bright “hell-o~!” before turning back to continue her work as she goes on.
“I trust you three had a lovely day? I’m just putting the finishing touches to our dresses. Rainbow was kind enough to bring me some very serviceable models to work with, but, as I expected, they were in need of some small adjustments. Anonymous, your ensemble is laid out for you in your room, would you be a darling and try it on for me?”
“That would be my pleasure,” you say with a courteous bow of your head which probably goes unnoticed as Rarity focuses intently on some detail work.

“Oh, and leave your boots please,” she calls over her shoulder. “They’ll need an embellishment or two to go properly with the new outfit.”
>You pull your boots off.
>Rarity doesn’t look round, but as soon as they’re free of your feet a blue magical field envelopes them and they begin floating off towards her even as she continues to focus closely on the fine embroidery of a hem.
>You stand gazing for a moment, a little in awe, struck by her perfect poise and natural elegance in the midst of this frantic multitasking.
>Rarity at work is a force of nature that you could just stand and watch for hours quite happily.
>Wait, no.
>No, no, you don’t need to be thinking like that.
>Especially not around Rainbow Dash.
>She already thinks you’re a rustler; you really don’t need her tumbling to what happened with Rarity.
>You make for your bedroom to try on your outfit, giving your head a brisk shake in hopes of clearing it as you go.
>Regardless of how much success you might have, it’s a temporary palliative at best – you’re soon filled with stunned admiration for Rarity all over again when you see the lavish outfit she has laid out on your bed.

>The jacket is very fine wool, a deep midnight blue slashed with bold detailing in gold thread forming bars and stripes that accentuate the garment’s clean, elegant lines.
>Dozens of small rubies are stitched into the sleeves and slightly padded shoulders and there they gleam, sanguine, their arrangement artfully designed to make them look carelessly scattered.
>The shirt is a lacy cream affair embellished by a deep scarlet cravat and a waistcoat that matches the jacket.
>The trousers are slim-fitting, simple but beautifully cut in the same material as the jacket and waistcoat, the belt a rich tan colour studded with more rubies and finished with a stylish golden clasp in the shape of a serpent devouring its own tail.
>The overall effect – even when the outfit is lying inert there on your bed, not even being modelled and viewed as intended – is nothing short of breath-taking.
>It’s difficult to conceive of the fact that she made this elaborate costume from scratch in the hours since you last saw her.
>It’s nothing like what you normally wear, but the artistry of it is undeniable and compelling.
>What’s more, although it’s far more dandyish than anything you would ever have picked out for yourself, as you look at it you realise that in fact, in some way, this is -you-.
>Not a side of yourself that you normally express – certainly not through fashion – but undeniably you, as if Rarity has presented you with a mirror that shows you not your mere physical form but something deeper and subtler than that.

>You undress and begin to try it on, immediately noticing the quality of the fabric as you touch it.
>It’s impressive, but unsurprising at this point, that everything fits near-perfectly despite Rarity’s inexperience with tailoring for humanoid dimensions.
>The finished effect in the mirror is just as good as you expected, although… it lacks something.
>Oh right, your boots – Rarity’s done something to them.
>Your return to the lounge is greeted with an excited squeal from Pinkie and a gasp from Twilight.
>Even Dash looks pretty impressed.
“Geez, Rarity, he looks just like the twerps we saw flouncing around the Lady’s Ward in Sigil. How’d you figure out how to make fancy human clothes so quick?”
“Hmph. Excuse me, Rainbow, he looks not at all like a 'twerp'… although I do need to let the jacket out just a smidgen at the shoulders and in at the waist, the cravat is NOT tied just so, and of course the whole effect is positively ruined without the boots. Here, Anonymous, darling, give me your jacket and try these on.”
>She floats your boots back over to you and you make the swap.
>The boots have somehow been dyed from their previous dark brown to the same tan colour as your new belt, softened and gained turn down collars studded with rubies to match the rest of the outfit.
>You already sort of miss your sturdy old boots – you’ve been through a lot with them.
>But you can’t deny that these will match tonight’s outfit better, and if Rarity can really make such major alterations in mere minutes then you suppose it should be a simple matter to get her to put them back to normal at some point.

>Well, assuming you can come up with a sufficiently convincing aesthetic rationale for it.
>Although now that you think about it, she looks considerably more frazzled now than she did ten minutes ago; it occurs to you that the quick turnaround on the boots might have cost her a non-negligible amount of magical power.
>Soon you have the boots on and Rarity has returned the jacket to you after a couple of minutes of painstaking but incredibly rapid work redoing various bits of stitching.
“There, try that.”
>You’d thought the jacket fit fine before, but you feel the difference immediately.
>It might have been ‘fine’ before, but now it’s -right-.
>Rarity gives a satisfied nod.
“That will do. Once you’re properly brushed up I do believe you’ll look -quite- acceptable. So that’s the major task out of the way, now I can focus on the final touches in getting these dresses up to scratch…”
>You get your chance, now, to sit and watch Rarity at work as she consults with the other ponies, making the final tweaks to their outfits and sending them off one by one to try them on and model them for her.
>Each dress is unique, perfectly suited to its wearer and touched with what you’re coming to recognise as Rarity’s trademark flair and panache.
>You see what she meant, now, about making the world a lovelier place; her creations are not only beautiful in themselves, but they bring out the beauty of their wearers.
>Rarity sends each pony back multiple times to take their dress off again and return it to her for further adjustments, much to the chagrin of Rainbow Dash in particular.

>The whole process is also complicated somewhat by Pinkie Pie dashing constantly in and out, splitting her time between overseeing the preparations in the grand ball room and cooperating with Rarity’s process.
>Still, the dresses – including her own – are finished to her satisfaction within an hour.
“Well then, I call that a good day’s work,” she says proudly as she surveys the finished products, sagging a little as fatigue catches up with her.
>A few strands of her mane are even out of place – you take that as a sign of dire exertion on her part.
 “I don’t know about everyp0ny else, but what I need now is some me time. I have hopes that a good long soak in a hot bath with some scented candles may yet restore me to an appropriate level of fabulousness in time for the party. And -if- some kind fellow was to hunt me up a glass of something bubbly… and maybe a few canapés, such as perhaps some blinis and caviar… and bring them to my suite – for instance, as a token of his gratitude for the handsome finery he’s wearing – then that might not be entirely inappropriate or unwelcome.”
>She bats her eyelashes at you, and you put all your focus into maintaining a blasé expression as you smile back.
“I’m sure somebody can manage that.”
>Everyp0ny disperses to get cleaned up and ready for the party, and you quickly find a pagecolt to send down to the kitchens with Rarity’s request and another to send out to the gardens for a bouquet of roses.
>You send them on their ways with large tips and a grave sense of urgency, and once you’re satisfied that they’ve taken off about their tasks at an appropriately nippy speed you go to take a quick shower of your own.

>By the time you emerge clean and damp-haired in your new outfit, having taken a few minutes to just admire it in the mirror, you find a huge bundle of freshly-cut red and white roses waiting on the table in the living room along with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and a silver tray on which stand two glasses and a selection of fancy-looking canapés including the requested blinis and caviar.
>You pick up the tray and the bucket with the bottle in it, hanging the bucket over your arm so as to leave one hand free as you give a knock on Rarity’s bedroom door.
>There’s no answer – which makes sense, you suppose, if she’s in the bath.
>After a moment you try the door and find it unlocked.
>There’s a soft splashing sound coming from the en-suite bathroom, accompanied by an alluring aroma of cinnamon and orange.
>The door is ajar.
>You make your way across the soft carpet and knock.
“Yeeeees?” Rarity’s voice croons from within. “Could that possibly be room service?”
“Something like that,” you reply wryly. “Can I come in?”
“You can, but you had better be bringing suitable offerings.”
>You push the door open and enter the steamy, orange-scented bathroom, where Rarity reclines luxuriously in the bathtub amidst mounds of frothy bubbles, the far rim lined with a thick row of lit candles.
“The lady’s champagne and canapés…”
“Ahhh, darling, how -did- you know”, Rarity purrs. “Would you be so marvellously kind as to pour me a glass?”
>You set the tray down first on the (thankfully quite large) shelf at the foot of the bathtub, and then open the champagne with a muted pop and a wisp of vapour that is quickly swallowed up by the room’s steam.

>You pour Rarity a glass, and she leans forward to take it from you with a smile.
>You don’t quite know how to read that smile.
“A blini, m’lady?” you ask as you offer the tray.
“Why yes, I don’t mind if I do.”
>She takes one daintily and pops it into her mouth, rolling her eyes up in bliss.
“Absolute heaven. Thank you, darling.”
“It’s the least I could do. There’s one more thing, hang on, I’ll be right back.”
>You make your way back to the lounge and grab the bouquet of roses from the table, turn round and are returning to Rarity’s room when the door next to it – the door to Pinkie’s room – opens and out steps Rainbow Dash, her mane up in a towel.
“Hey,” you greet her cursorily, not slowing down.
“He- wait a minute.”
>Like a flash she’s in front of Rarity’s door, looking pointedly at the flowers in your hand.
“What in the hay is all this?”
“A gesture of thanks, of course,” you say without missing a beat.
>She’s silent for a moment, peering suspiciously between you and the flowers.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah. For my new outfit.”
“You’re bringing her flowers… in the bath… to say thanks.”
“Yup. She did ask me to bring her some other things, y’know, so this is just by way of an additional thank you from me.”
“Yeeeaaah…”
>She’s not moving.

“Anyway, didn’t you say it was fine if I tried it on with Rarity? Something about her being able to look after herself?”
>…that might not have been the most politick tack to take, but you’re getting rather tired of the cyan pegasus’s cockblocking.
“Well I THOUGHT she could.”
>She peers over her shoulder for a moment to where Rarity’s bathroom door stands ajar before looking back at you, her eyes weighing you up.
“Give me a brea-”
>Your plea is interrupted by a plaintive voice from Rarity’s bathroom.
“Dashie! Oh Daaaaashie! Is that you I hear? Are you harassing my waiter? Do stop making such a dreadful nuisance of yourself, darling.”
“Oh, whatever.”
>Rainbow steps aside, but her suspicious gaze never leaves you for a moment as you go past her and on to the bathroom again, pointedly closing the door behind you.
“Waiter, indeed,” you say with a wry smile, holding the flowers behind your back.
>Rarity just blinks innocently at you.
>She shifts minutely under the water with a liquid sound that makes you imagine her supple, shapely curves rearranging themselves languidly beneath the foamy surface.
“…here.”
>You proffer the bouquet.
“For your hard work today on my outfit. Thanks again. I love it.”
>Rarity beams.

“Oh, how lovely,” she gushes. “Thank you, darling. Just set them down over there for me? I’ll put them in a vase once I’m out of the bath.”
>You do as requested, and turn back to Rarity, your gaze straying to the second, empty, glass beside the champagne bottle.
>You see her gaze follow yours. Her smile doesn’t change.
“Really, thank you,” she repeats after a moment. “For the refreshments, as well, it was sweet of you.”
>You nod. Another moment passes.
>Fuck.
“…no problem. I’ll see you later then.”
>You leave and stalk back to your room, ignoring the smug look Rainbow gives you from the couch and keeping your jacket arranged so as to shield the more visible signs of your frustration from her view.