//------------------------------// // The Shower // Story: If Only, If Only // by GaPJaxie //------------------------------// It was a particularly pleasant spring that year. The weather team was in top form, producing the most luxurious warm days, and Ponyville even managed to go a few months without any monster attacks. Twilight and her friends often took the opportunity to get outside, and Twilight even started making regular use of her palace’s balcony and inviting her friends over for breakfast. Rarity missed a few of these gatherings. She worked through them and lost track of the time. But, she only missed a few. Perhaps, some of Rarity’s friends thought, she was a little more obsessive about her work than usual. But that was not so out of character, and they were beautiful dresses. She always made the time for her friends when it mattered. One beautiful week, as spring was turning into summer, an inventors fair came to Ponyville. Applejack asked Rarity if she’d like to attend, and since it was true that she had missed the girls' last get-together, of course Rarity made the time. They spent the day together, looking at wonderous electrical devices, carts that hovered without the need for pegasi, and a surprising number of fast cookers. They tried the “food of the future,” and politely informed the poor stallion behind it that if his liquid food idea ever took off, they would be forced to kill him to avert a terrible dystopian future. He took it in a good humor, and wrote down their feedback. He even gave them credit for the grazing restaurant up the way. It was a good day. Then they came to the shower. It was in the household good section, and had drawn quite a crowd. Inside a box of crystal, a beautiful mare feigned bathing herself as eight jets of water struck her from all directions. The signs and placards around the booth insisted that it was the ‘shower of tomorrow,’ and that long gone were the days when ponies would have to struggle to scrub their flanks or underside. “Hoo-eee,” Applejack grinned as they watched the display from a distance. “Think maybe these ponies just need to be told what a bathtub is? Might save ‘em a lot of effort.” “Mmm. I suspect that’s not the point.” Rarity’s voice seemed far away, and she peered at the display with a look of intense focus, though her gaze was on the pipes instead of the model. “For practical hygiene, a bath or a regular shower is quite sufficient. They seem to be selling the experience. It’s about the feeling of being clean all over.” “Oh boy. I know that look.” Applejack sighed, reaching up to adjust her hat. “Am I, in fact, looking at Rarity’s next big ‘civilized’ gadget?” “No,” Rarity said, her tone still flat and distant. She didn’t engage with Applejack’s jest, or even seem to notice it. “Not from these ponies, anyway.” Rarity went on without waiting for Applejack to reply. “The whole execution is frankly amateurish. The shower itself is far too small. A normal shower is scaled so that the back third of it is largely isolated from the spray, so that if the water is too hot or too cold you can simply step backwards. With this design, ponies are nearly guaranteed to burn or freeze. Freezing, of course, is more likely since it has eight nozzles. I may not be a plumber, but I can do basic math. A ten minute shower with this device would use an equivalent amount of hot water to nearly an hour and a half with my current shower, and I don’t know about you, but my boiler simply isn’t capable of that level of sustained exertion.” Her pace picked up as her eyes locked onto details of the shower’s execution, flicking this way and that. “That’s not even getting into issues of airflow, of course. You see what they’ve done there? To prevent the lower jets from shooting over the top of the shower stall, they’ve enclosed the entire structure! Even without the mist setting they’re advertising, the humidity inside that cage will quickly climb so high you’ll be able to chew on the air. I enjoy a steamy shower as much as the next pony, but not to the point it impairs my ability to breathe.” Rarity chewed on her hoof as she thought. Applejack stared. “I uh…” Applejack finally managed. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about plumbing.” “Mmm?” Rarity turned to face her friend, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance she’d fallen into. Her voice returned to its normal volume, and she quickly smiled. “Oh, I don’t. But I recognize good craftsponyship when I see it. Or in this case, lazy work. Even if it’s not my field, there are principles to be upheld.” “I suppose that’s true. I can certainly get my tail in a twist seeing a farm that’s been allowed to go fallow.” Applejack gestured across the way. “Wanna go see the movie theater?” “Certainly! Lead the way.” Rarity’s tone was upbeat, and she fell in alongside Applejack as they walked. She stole a glance over her shoulder. The hands of Rarity’s clock glowed. It was just past four AM. She sat at her desk, but she hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. The faint glow of her horn was more than sufficient. And it seemed better, somehow. The page in front of her was blank. She thought of what it would be like to be awoken with a drawing full in her mind, and it made her stomach clench. She tasted bile. It was only with some effort that she was able to force herself to pick up the pen. She drew a line. It had no significance, but it was at least something. That made her feel a little better. She could feel the shower water. Not from the wretched display she’d seen at the fair, but from the correct shower. She felt the water from the shower that should exist, of which the one she saw in the fair was a distinctly inferior mutation. She could feel the warmth, and hear the hiss of the nozzles, and feel the little vibrations from the rumbling pipes. And yet she couldn’t draw it. She didn’t know how to begin. She didn’t know anything about how to design a shower. The dream was there. It was perfect. But it was stuck using her useless hooves to manifest itself. Her chest tightened, and she had to force herself to draw breath. It hurt, like there was a stitch along her ribs. She forced herself to shut her eyes, and ran through a breathing exercise. Creative block was an old and bitter friend, and she knew how to deal with it. If she could not manifest the shower directly, then she could manifest the tools by which she could. And so through her shut eyes, she saw. She saw what the planning desk of a truly great designer would look like. She lifted her hooves, and gently touched the wooden surface in front of her. The physical sensation cleared away so many distractions, and sharpened her focus. In her mind’s eye, there was no fabric on her desk, nor traces of dresses. She was clear to do as she wished. Her book appeared resting on the desk's upper-left corner. Somewhere accessible, but out of the way, like a reference book. Then, there were samples of types of bathroom tile, wood, pipes. Her chest relaxed as the samples came into focus. The need for proper materials was something she understood. Then there was her blotter with the technical drawings of the shower, and photographs tacked along the left side. But what were they photographs of? She picked one up with her horn and examined it. The image was hazy at first, but it was a room of some type. She realized that it was a bathroom, and instantly, the picture snapped into focus -- as did all the others tacked along the side of her board. Of course, she realized, the context mattered. She could hardly fit a ten square meter shower in an eight square meter bathroom, could she. Then there were other things on the desk: tools, invoices, reference guides. She opened her eyes. She added bullet points to the line she had drawn, and used it to make a list of inadequacies to be corrected. Then she got back into her sketches, and even got a few down. Eventually, the sun came up. Rarity had asked Applejack if she could use the old, empty barn on the weekends. She had a project, she said, that took up slightly more room than she had in the boutique. Applejack had no objections, save a warning that the south loft was not structurally sound. And so, Rarity moved in that Saturday, and worked clear through to Sunday night. She did the same the next week, and the next after that. She was always suitably grateful for Applejack’s generosity, and often brought food at the start of each weekend as thanks. Yet more and more, she made excuses not to see her friends on weekends, claiming that she had to work. She was never specific as to precisely what work needed to be done, save the occasional vague hint at a hobby project. And yet, she was gone just the same. Three weeks stretched into four. Then into six. Rainbow Dash cracked a joke that weekend Raritys were becoming an endangered species, and that habitat destruction of their scenic spas and outdoor cafes had driven them to the brink of extinction. Later, she admitted it was Fluttershy’s joke and she copied it. Finally, after eight weeks, they’d had enough. Pinkie Pie pulled out the big guns. “Surprise!” Pinkie shouted, a blast of confetti exploding around Rarity through the open barn door. “It’s a Sneak-Up-On-Rarity-and-Learn-About-Her-Secret-Project party! Everypony brought something and we’re going to have a blast!” “I brought cake.” Rainbow added, hovering over the rest of the group. She was, in fact, holding a cake. “Oh.” Rarity paused for a moment, and then smiled. “Well, I suppose that’s an offer I can’t refuse, isn’t it?” “Uh-huh!” Pinkie Pie yanked Twilight forward, wrapping an arm around the poor princess's unprepared shoulders. “I’ve got a laser princess and I’m not afraid to use it!” Rarity laughed and stepped away from the door so it could open the rest of the way. “Oh, I suppose I earned that.” The other mares filed in, looking around the barn. “I know I’ve been a bit absent this past while. I’m almost done with it though. It will be good to have social time again.” It took Rarity’s friends a little time to grasp what they were seeing. The inside of the barn had been thoroughly cleared of all hay or debris to make room for new equipment. Stalls held racks of pipes or samples of types of tile. A small, portable boiler sat in one corner next to a folding shelf filled with trade books on plumbing and magical texts on hydromancy. And there, in the middle of the barn was the shell of something strange. “It’s uh…” Fluttershy asked, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at the object in the middle of the room. “Modern art?” It was certainly beautiful. The tile work along its base formed an intricate pattern of blue and greens that seamlessly flowed into the fittings. Chest-height rectangles surrounded it on all sides, made from slabs of unfinished stone. Above was a collection of pipes, suspended from the ceiling by chain. “It’s a…” Rarity cleared her throat. “It’s a shower.” “Oh.” Fluttershy frowned. She didn’t seem to know what to think of it. Neither did any of the others. “Why is it a… pentagon?” “It’s a 3/4ths octagon, actually,” Rarity said quickly. “And for directionality. I made a few test models before the finished product, and well.” She laughed again. “Excessive symmetry isn’t desireable in a shower. Even if you could face either way equally well, you have a certain sense that there’s a way you should face. Ponies instinctively want the shower to have a front and a back. So, I used oct and dectagonal shapes as a realizable approximation of a circle, and then cut the button quarter edges off to give it a clear front face. So you get full coverage while maintaining the illusion of directionality. You see?” Rarity’s friends didn’t. Instead, they stared. After a moment, Applejack coughed. “So uh… where does the door go?” “It doesn’t have one. The half-height walls allow the shower to remain open while effectively preventing splashing and restricting airflow enough that the shower keeps that ‘pleasant steam.’ Of course, the bathroom will have to be tiled as well, but that…” She looked at her friends' faces and cleared her throat. “Well, uh. Yes. Pinkie Pie? I don’t suppose you could uh… do your thing?” “You mean break the awkward silence?” Pinkie Pie’s ears shot up. “No way! I mean, yes, way, because awkward silences are icky and weird, but I totally want to try this. You’ve been working on this, like, forever. I’ve got to know what makes it so super special!” “Oh, I don’t-” “Please, Rarity!” Pinkie Pie hopped over until she and Rarity were nearly muzzle to muzzle. “Please please please please please.” Rarity raised a hoof. “The boiler doesn’t really have enough capacity for five ponies.” “We’ll be quick! And we can team up. I’ll shower with AJ and Twilight can shower with Rainbow.” Twilight raised a hoof. “Um… can I go with Fluttershy instead?” Rainbow let out an irritated huff and rolled her eyes. “Oh for feather’s sake, Twilight. Would you get over that already? I promise, you’re not that attractive.” “I’m over it! I just…” Twilight paused. “Wait, why aren’t I that attractive?” “See? They want to try too.” Pinkie Pie squeezed Rarity’s shoulder. “Please?” “I mean, is it my mane?” Twilight brushed her hair. “I guess my bangs kind of show. I could cut them.” “Oh…” Rarity sighed. “Very well. Give me a moment to fire up the boiler.” It was an odd sort of party. Each of Rarity’s friends tried her creation in turn, and each agreed it was the best shower they’d ever had. The water was hot and came at just the right pressure. It quickly developed a good head of steam. It cleaned coat, mane, hoof, and undercarriage equally well. It even had a ‘pulse’ setting that startled Fluttershy so badly that she leapt clear out of the shower when it came on. The hot blush didn’t leave her face for some hours thereafter. That was a little embarrassing for everypony present, but no harm was done. Pinkie Pie laughed their troubles away. Then they dried off and there was cake. “It’s just about finished, as you can see,” Rarity said to Applejack, as the two watched Twilight lead a conga line. “Just another day or two for some finishing touches.” “Well, I admit. Outside of our trips to the spa, I ain’t ever felt this clean.” Applejack gave a little grin. She still had her towel draped over her shoulder, her coat all ruffled and her mane puffy. “So is this going into your bathroom soon as you’re happy with it?” “Mmm?” Rarity looked over Applejack’s way. “Oh, no. No. The boutique’s plumbing can’t support it. Not without major overhauls I can’t afford. Even the prototype was a little too expensive for my blood.” “Oh.” Applejack frowned for a moment. “Are you gonna sell it?” “I sell dresses, Applejack. Not plumbing.” Rarity offered a small smile. “No, like I told you girls. It’s just a hobby project. A chance to stretch my creative muscles! It’ll go into storage once it’s done.” “So, just something you do ‘cause you enjoy it then?” Rarity looked across the room at her creation. “It’s not always about me. Sometimes, a thing just...” She shrugged. “Wants to exist.”