//------------------------------// // Inspiration! // Story: L.I.P: Rarity's Little Scout // by PegasYs //------------------------------// Well, here I was. Three days later. I made my way into the boutique that I would practically be living in for the next week or so. Maybe longer. How long does it take an expert designer to make high tech utility barding? I didn’t want to think about it. This is going to be the longest, most tedious and gut-wrenching mission ever. Valientwing really was pushing my buttons a little bit. The floor was carpeted, a deep blue spread, touching the four white walls of the boutique main foyer. Hanging from the walls were various pictures, all of ponies dressed in tight, suffocating dresses and suits, looking fierce, dangerous, and really really uncomfortable. Tacky music was playing through the stereo system built into the really high ceiling. Air conditioning chilled the cold room, and a light perfume smell was present in the atmosphere. I started to feel nauseous. The smell and the colors were giving me a headache. At the end of the foyer was a reception desk. An uptight looking socialite mare was sitting behind the desk, stereotypically filing her hooves. She was wearing her mane up in a really strange way, bundled up, and sticking out in seemingly random places. Her eyelashes were fake; she was wearing too much makeup. She looked like she had been starving herself. She glanced up at me, and didn’t say anything. I gave her a judgmental look, and then cleared my throat. “Hi. I’m here to see…” I looked at the piece of paper I was given, with the address of this place, and the name of my client. “Rarity..? About the Storm Scouts utility barding.” She rolled her eyes, and put down her hoof-file. “Through the left doors, down the hall, third dressing room on the right.” She didn’t even look up at me as she motioned through the directions with her hooves. She kept the same bored expression on her face, and then returned to her filing. I grunted, and headed through the doors into the hallway to hell. The hallway was full of more pictures of dresses, and display cases with various clothing lines and different cloths. More stupid music. More perfume. Living in Canterlot, I had to put up with a lot of stuck up, high class ponies in my daily life. They definitely weren’t my favorite ponies to be around. Always worrying about image and money, and not seeing the big picture of things. I had lived here for most of my life and I still didn’t understand them. I reached the dressing room, and sighed, preparing myself for the horrors within. I gathered my thoughts, and pushed the door open with my hooves, walking into a room filled with color. It was a circular room, with various fashion items against every surface of the walls. Stands for rolling cloth, thread spools, boxes upon boxes filled with who knows what, and more glitter than anypony would ever need in three lifetimes. There were parts, too… mechanical parts, machinery, gauges, blades and cogs. In one corner of the room stood various ponnequins, positioned on holsters, assumedly used for fitting to various body formations. In the middle of the room, there was a pedestal, with spotlights from the ceiling trained on its position. There didn’t seem to be anypony in here. I turned to walk out, when the door swung open, hitting me in the face. I collapsed on the floor, dazed and disoriented. Two white ponies stood above me, looking concerned. My vision cleared, and came into focus. Two blue eyes looked down at me, instead of four. “Oh, I’m ever so sorry, here let me help you up.” She sheepishly offered to get me to my hooves. I stood up on my own, and turned to face her. She was a unicorn, with a white coat, and an extremely fancy looking purple mane. She was a lot fuller bodied than a lot of the other frou frou ponies I had seen from around town. If I didn’t know any better, I would say she was somewhat of an attractive mare. “I came here to help in the preparation of the Storm Scout utility barding. I am here to act as a model, and help with the functions and uses that are required in the Storm Scout uniform.” I recited my mission to the unicorn, she gave a small smile. “Ah! You must be Mr. Scout! Please to meet you, I’m Rarity, but you can call me Miss, or Miss Rarity, if you like.” She offered her hoof. I turned away from her and looked once more at my surroundings. I wasn’t one to have much problems with claustrophobia, but the room made we want to get the hell out of the building. She made a sound of disapproval behind me. I turned towards her once more. “Listen, I would give anything to be anywhere but here right now. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just want to get this over with. So let’s get to work so we can go on with our lives.” “Very well then, I bet you I can have the design done by the end of the week if we work at it diligently. Let’s get started then, shall we? Now, I have some color choices for you to choose from. Pick the one you think best fits your teams, style, so to speak.” She offered me various cloths, all of a different color. They all were very bright, and made of soft cotton. There were so many things wrong with all these choices, and I voiced this to my high society client. “None of these. The Storm Scouts standard uniform color is gunmetal gray. The fabric needs to be something more durable, something that can withstand high wind speeds and moisture, as well as heat and extreme cold.” She started thinking to herself. “I don’t have anything like that, but I suppose I can get some synthetics from the Canterlot market. But first, I think it would be best if I could get your measurements, if I may.” She gestured me over to the pedestal. I sighed in annoyance, and abided by her wishes. Stepping onto the pedestal, I took a look at myself in the mirror on the side of the podium. My bright red coat was illuminated by the multiple lights shining on me, giving my dark grey mane a bright sheen. I wasn’t a small pegasus, I was very strongly built. Rarity went over to one of the shelves, and started rummaging through the various yarns and other things. She returned minutes later with a long roll of measuring tape, and a clipboard and pencil. She began writing some notes down. She started with my wings. Stretching them out to their full length, she measured them out individually, jotting down the results on her paper. She then went on to my height, neck length and width, body length, and the length of each of my legs. I stood there, lost in my own thoughts, not acknowledging her and her business. She yanked, rather hard, on my tail, attempting to measure it at full length. I gave out a growl, “Hey! Watch the tail!” “Sorry, dear. Oh my! Your tail is filthy! It’s covered with dust!” Yeah, working hard does tend to leave some dirt in you mane. Nothing you would ever know about. She galloped over to one of the walls, and pulled a lever down with her teeth. I heard a gurgling sound coming from above me. I turned toward the ceiling, and noticed a shower head hanging from the rafters. Oh, Celestia… Cold water washed over me, and ran down a drain built into the rim of the pedestal. It only lasted briefly, but it left me soaking wet. I shivered slightly. But then a huge fan behind me blew all of the moisture off of my coat. I stood there, still and shocked over what had just happened. “What the hell was that!?” Anger burned in my expression. She looked apathetic as she walked back over to me to continue the measuring. “Sorry, dear, but you can’t work with me if you’re going to be covered in dirt all the time.” She went around to my flank, and started measuring out my thigh width. I felt a little uncomfortable with her touching me there. I started shuffling around on the stand. “Oh, come now, you act like a mare has never touched you.” The truth was, I had, but it was a love lost a long time ago. I just snorted at her. She rolled up the measuring tape and walked to the door. “I’ll be back. I’m going to the Marketplace to get some cloth; you wait here and make yourself useful. Clean up this mess a little, if you would please.” Oh no! There was no way I’m doing her dirty work for her. She walked out, and I was left in the silent room. I groaned in frustration. This was going to be a long, long week. The next day was even worse than the last. Rarity brought an assistant, to help with the pincushioning and other getting her materials. It was… a dragon. A baby dragon. She called him “her little Spikey-Wikey” and literally used him as her own personal pincushion. He was clearly infatuated with the mare, staring at her with a kind of longing in his eyes. I enjoyed the dragons company much more than the company of Rarity. Me and Spike, as he told me he was called, actually had real conversations. He was funny, but I wondered why he was pining over such an abrasive mare. Three days had gone by; we had gotten very little done. We kept arguing about every little detail. For a high society pony, Rarity was really akin to using foul language with me. One day, we were disputing over a hem on the back end of the vest, when she screamed at me, something about being the most frustrating pegasus she has ever worked with, and stormed out of the room. Spike just shrugged and looked at me like I had it coming, and walked over to the side of the room. As much as I didn’t want to talk to her, I decided that my job with the Storm Scouts was probably resting on getting this done. I sighed, and walked through the door after her. She was standing in the hallway, looking at the pictures on the walls. I wished so much that I could just walk out of there, and leave the horrible building forever. I knew I couldn’t, and instead walked up to her. She didn’t notice my presence. I gave a low grumble and she turned to face me. She had a sour look on her face. I shuffled my hooves on the carpet. “Listen, I’m sorry for being so difficult. You are the expert here. I should just let you do your work.” This was truly the most uncomfortable moment ever. “No… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to act so unladylike back there. Let’s get this done. I think I know what you need…” She started walking toward the exit of the boutique, and motioned for me to follow. I tried to question her, but due to her stubbornness, knew that it was probably pointless. We walked outside into the sunny afternoon air. Canterlot shone in the sun, brightly illuminating the whitewashed buildings, and casting dark shadows on the streets. It was the kind of day where young fillies and colts played in the streets, ponies walked along the roadways, and everybody in town was enjoying the sunshine. The Storm Scouts were doing their job in my absence, with Smokeshade heading operations. My team was fully capable, and didn’t need me for running the local weather smoothly. I missed my job, even though I’ve only been gone for three days, and would give anything to be able to sleep in my comfy bunk in the barracks. I was spending the nights on a cot in the dressing room. I found it somewhat creepy to be staying in a room filled with so much glitter and color. Rarity walked down to the end of the block and turned into a spa. Oh no… You can’t make me go in there! She walked out and motioned me inside with her hoof. I stood there, incredulously, not wanting to take another step. She ran up to me and grabbed my hooves. For such a prissy mare, she was surprisingly strong. I objected, but soon gave up as I felt that she wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. I was dragged into the spa by my captor. Two spa mares came up to us. “Greetings, would you like your usual treatment, Miss Rarity?” I recall Valiantwing saying that she was out of town. From Ponyville, to be exact. How could she have a usual? How often did she come to Canterlot, anyways? “Yes, darlings, that would be great. And give my disagreeable stallion friend here the Deluxe Pegasus Treatment.” “Why are we here?” I whispered to her as the mares lead us down the hall. I felt my feelings of discomfort increase with every hoofstep. “I always get my inspiration when I visit the spa. Maybe what we both need is some relaxation, and maybe a little pampering will get us on the same track.” I was beginning to hate this unicorn more and more. I wanted to turn and run, but for some reason I also wanted to humor Rarity. We were lead into a small room, where there were two cushioned massage tables. The shorter of the two spa ponies motioned me unto the far table. I groaned, and gave in. Lying on the table, face down, I felt embarrassed and awkward. She began rubbing her hooves on my shoulders. Looking back on this moment, I realized that it truly was extremely relieving. I didn’t want them to think I was enjoying it, though. I kept silent, and accepted my fate. I hoped that none of the other Storm Scouts ever hears about this. Rarity was adjacent to me, make sounds of pleasure and comfort from the message she was receiving. She seemed to be milking it a little bit. My attendee reached the base of my wings, and began applying pressure to the joints. She dug deep into them, relieving a lot of tension with her elbows. “Wow, guy. You got some crazy knots in your wings. What, have you been flying for three days straight?” No, I was working with the worst client of my life for three days straight. Rarity popped up from her table, and made a really strange exasperated sound. “That’s it!” She stood from the table, threw some money at the two spa mares, and ran out the door. I smiled apologetically to them, and chased after her. I made my way towards the boutique. When I entered the dressing room, I found a huge mess before me. Cloths and machine parts were scattered all over the place, things were knocked over, and papers were being blown around. On the pedestal stood an easel, with a single picture on the huge lined paper. Rarity was staring at it, obviously proud of her work. To her right was a pile of parts and material. The picture, on closer inspection, was something that looked like it might have been invented in some weird scientist’s cyborg lab in a science fiction novel. It was a pony, a pegasus, that bore a striking resemblance to me. His wings were incased in… metal. The barding was made out of what was supposed to be some sort of synthetic, judging by the fact that there was a single square of it stapled to the ponies chest. The pegasus was also wearing a headset, with gages and other things to the side of the eyes, and a microphone. Little notes were scribbled all around the drawing, with things like “magic” with arrows pointed to the wings and headset. “Uh, what is all this? It looks… impressive.” She turned to look at me. Her mane was slightly frazzled, and she was breathing heavily. “Don’t you get it? The Storm Scouts fly all over Equestria! They fly so often, their wings get worked up, and have a much higher chance at getting arthritis later on in life.” I could only assume she knew all of this because, as a fashion designer, she had to know a lot about anatomy, the shape and build of the pony body. “When Miss Prim mentioned your worked up wings, I suddenly was hit with inspiration! We could infuse the barding with magic, allowing you to fly without putting so much strain on your wings! Also, on the way here, I got the idea of using magic to make a headset, so you can look at all the information you need, while still being able to fly properly. It comes with a microphone, so you can communicate with all the other members of your team over the wind.” Okay, I had no idea where she learned so much about magic and mechanics. But her ideas… they were finally something I could get into. “I’ll need a friend to help me with the spells, though. Luckily, I know just the pony for the job!” “This is… amazing.” I looked over the designs once more, and felt somewhat relieved that this was finally getting somewhere. She wrote down a letter, and ran out the door. She reappeared seconds later, with an excited look on her face. “Alright, let’s get to work. I want to have everything built and sewn before Twilight gets here.” Spike, who was watching the whole commotion, got an excited look on his face. He instantly started to clean up the mess Rarity had made. “I can’t believe Twilight is coming! I missed her so much!” He blushed, “That is, I’m glad I could help you out, Rarity. I wouldn’t miss being your assistant for anything!” I had a ton of questions, but she began working instantly, too preoccupied to listen. I just let her do her work. I didn’t want her to get frustrated again when we were finally getting somewhere.