//------------------------------// // Lesson 2: Visit the Spa with Rarity, Part 1 // Story: Anon’s Friendship Lessons // by DatZigga //------------------------------// A carousel is still a stupid idea for a clothing store. Anon thought to himself, sitting on a red sofa among a group of mannequins. Or, ponnequins? White dolls in the shapes of horses. Anon was only here because Rarity had invited him and Spike insisted that they stop by. Sadly, the poor dragon was called upon by his violet guardian for chores involved reorganizing all the books in the library. However, he fervently promised that he would join the two later at his next lesson. The way Spike was talking, with a serious blush on his scales, made his intentions clear. Poor lizard. It’s clear the boy was thirstin’ something fierce for this chick. Anon let his mind wander, as it normally did. He was the best person he knew to hold a conversation with. He knew the subjects, had the same opinion, and yet, he could argue with himself for hours and never get tired of it. Speaking of, are interspecies a thing here or is he shit outta luck?  Meanwhile, in the outer world, Rarity watched Anon with intrigue, only a few feet away and just outside his peripheral vision. If Anon had turned his head just slightly to his left, he would see the Snow White pony had sat down next to him, observing him with an artist’s eye. At least she was, until she began to notice the human’s humming. This wasn’t the humming of a song, however, as there wasn’t a rhythm or melody. The humming was irregular, as if he was attempting to talk with his mouth closed. It was most curious.  “Darling?” She spoke, finally, derailing the train and awakening Anonymous. He instinctively scooted away, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Is there a reason for all that humming you seem to be doing?” Anon began scratching his neck from a burning itch. An itch that occurs under the most embarrasing of circumstances. Rarity was internally surprised by the reaction, never expecting it to be that big of a deal for him. “Um, it’s a, uh, thing I do.” Anon explained hesitantly. “It’s a bad habit. I try not to do it in front of others.” “That hardly answers my question of why you do it, dear.” Rarity pointed out with a warm, but cheeky smile. Why did these horses have to be so cute? It was getting harder and harder to be abrasive.  “Yeah, well, I’m...talking to myself.” He admits, crossing his arms and leaning into the sofa, denying its softness internally. “It just feels more natural to speak then think to myself, but if I talk out loud, then people would think I’m a schizo. So, I hum.” “You don’t have to be ashamed, Anonymous.” Rarity assured with a wave of her hoof. “We all have our different ways of formulating our thoughts.” “Uh huh.” Anon wanted the conversation over with. “So, uh, what have you been up to?” Anon asked, unsure of the question he asked. It felt weird to talk to someone like you knew them. Regardless, Rarity’s eyes lit up, as if he had asked her if she wanted a diamond ring or something equally as unobtainable. Well, unobtainable on Earth. There were probably diamonds under every rock here. “Oh yes, I nearly forgot!” Rarity’s horn glowed as she spoke. “Since your last visit here, I have been designing a whole slew of outfits for you to wear. It was a refreshing experience, working with such a unique body type. I just have so many to show you and I even hope to showcase them in a few upcoming fashion shows!” Anon grimaced at the implication of the last sentence.  “You wouldn’t need me for that, would you?” Anon asked cautiously, bracing for the answer. “Why, of course I would need you, Anon!” Rarity answered gleefully. “I need a model and you are the only human that could do it.” “What about that parallel dimension? Or like, the other bipedal creatures in Equestria? I’ve heard they’re others.” Anon was beginning to regret changing topics. “Humans that come through the Crystal Portal become ponies, or at least that’s how Twilight and Starlight explained it. Also, your bodily proportions are different from any known creature I am aware of.” Anon groaned like that rebellious teenager from that show or movie he was channeling and reclined deeper into the sofa.  “You ponies are killing me with this shit…” Anon said under his breath. Finally, a rack of clothes appeared before the two. Several sets of clothings, most pony fitting, hung from the hangers. Anon swung his legs off the sofa and stood, walking to the rack. Upon inspection, he began to frown.  Rarity pulled the first outfit off the hanger. It was a striking baby blue valet suit, with a white bow. Anon was getting “The Blue Boy” vibes from the outfit. “Is this that fucking suit Django wore?” Anon asked no one in particular. “Was that a reference, darling?” Rarity cocked her head, not expecting such a comment. “Uh, well, I don’t think...I’d wear this, to be perfectly honest.” Anon rubbed the back of his neck, worried that he might hurt the horse’s feelings. He was beginning to understand the latent power of ponies, being their tremendous ability to provoke pity from their prey. He seldom wanted to face that.  “You wouldn’t wear this all the time, Anon.” Rarity assured. “It would only be for formal and important events of the highest honor.” “Uh huh.” Was all Anon could say, before waving off the ridiculous clothing. “Okay, what can I expect to wear with a little more regularity?” Rarity hangs up the suit and pulls out...another suit. This suit, however, was a black and white tuxedo with a red tie. Anon facepalmed. “This one shall function as your daily attire. I have sewn about a dozen matching pairs, so there should be no issue with shortage.” Anon rubbed his temples before articulating his thoughts.  “Aight, Rarity, was it? This is kinda the thing we wear for those formal events you mentioned earlier, not the monstro-suit you showed me earlier.” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “But darling, this is so plain!” Rarity complained.  “Yeah, we keep it plain where I’m from, not Victorian.” Anon pulled the suit out of the air and turned over, looking at it fully. “Moreover, who the hell wears a suit everyday? You ponies don’t even wear clothes with any regularity...to my chagrin.” Anon muttered that last part. He shivered at the thought of his first meeting with this particular little pony and the revelation that day doth brought. “It merely...felt right.” She articulated. “Besides, I think you would look quite handsome in a suit.” Rarity teased. She was only met with the roll of Anon’s eyes.  Like this pony knew anything about human beauty. If an alien were to touch down on Earth, unless it looked ambiguously human or was from an established Sci-Fi alien, humans would kill the damn thing before ever remarking on its beauty. Goes to show that the ponies were disgustingly pleasant. How dare they. Anon, now having properly settled his burning cheeks, coughed into his hand to regain focus.  “Irrelevant. Did you make something that is more casual? Something I don’t have to get pressed for a grocery run?” Rarity tapped a hoof to her chin, looking back at the rack.  “Well, I suppose there is this.” Rarity pulled out another article of clothing. This was...a dress. Not a suit, but a dress. A yellow sundress to be exact, with pink floral patterns and spaghetti shoulder straps. The neckline hung quite low and the bottom of the dress would fall just below the knees. “I had Fluttershy over for a brainstorming session as to what to design for you. She had this in mind. Although you’re not a mare, you are my only human model. I even designed a matching hat!” Sure enough, Rarity floated over an oversized sun hat, with a brim so wide it would completely block out the sun where Anon stood under it. Anon stood in silence, his chin resting in his hand and his elbow resting in his other hand. Rarity could see the evaluation in Anon’s eyes. She eagerly awaited what Anon had to say. “Fuck this.” Anon dropped his arms and walked back to the sofa. Rarity’s gleeful expression fell like a sack of rocks, along with the sundress. Though she didn’t know what exactly Anon said, she could read by the tone that it was an expression of resignation. Anon picked up his phone from his sofa and began typing into it. Rarity trotted behind him. “Anon, what seems to be the matter?” She asks, a little worried she had offended him. “Did you really not like any of my designs?” Anon looked down at her. One would expect a glare to be upon his face. Anon was known for giving those quite often, even over the slightest offense. However, Rarity was shocked to see something akin to a knowing smile, not quite smug, but not quite warm. “It’s not your fault, Rarity.” Anon said finally. He fought the urge to give a pet because 1,) He still didn’t know if it was disrespectful or not and 2.) He was sure he was gonna be bitten for even touching a mane that maintained. “You being both white and a pony, you wouldn’t know the first thing about how I would dress.”  “These are for a show too!” Rarity defended. “Furthermore, I have studied the fashion trends that humans on the other side of the mirror wore as well. So, I do have a reference point.” Rarity walked over to a drawer, pulled out a book, and walked back. She flipped through all the pages for Anon to see. Sure enough, they were human, in a sense. Weirdly enough, these humans had discolored skin, appearing as every hue and shade but the ones that were normal. Hell, he even saw some people that looked like the 6 ponies he knew, along with other citizens in Ponyville. Anon put the idea of a parallel universe specific to this world on the back burner, as there were more pressing matters. He took the book and flipped through the pages himself. “Yeah, I see your problem.” Anon turned the book pages toward Rarity to emphasize his point as he spoke. “Everything you ponies, and by extension, these humans wear are heavily exaggerated. Notice how the shoes are enormous and even the most basic outfits have something that visually pops out? These clothes make for good character designs for say...a fantasy world that doesn’t actually exist, but not for a human like me.” Rarity cocked her eyebrow at that last statement. “Then what do they wear?”  “Well, yes, but it’s more like...uh…here, I’ll show you.” Anon bent over to show Rarity what was on his phone. He was scrolling through a photo album of his college. Well, his former college. “Take note of the relative simplicity in the clothes everyone wears. There’s no garish colors, no big bows or goofy glasses, nothing that you would see on a runway. Sure, we have our exceptions, but on average, we keep it simple.” Rarity took the phone from Anon’s grasp, levitating in front of her as she scrolled. “Watch it! There’s, uh, stuff on there!” “I must say, these styles are quite nice in their own right.” Rarity sat on the sofa, now engrossed in the phone. Anon felt a tinge of familiarity, reminding him of the phone engrossed masses at home. He sat next to her, giving his commentary. “Only celebs wear anything similar to what you guys wear. Their whole job is to stand out. The rest of the ‘peasantry’ wear clothes with a brand label to fit in. However, the more prestigious the brand, the more they feel like they stand out. Only they don’t because everyone else is trying to stand out too. Then, there's the counterculture who try to wear what’s not popular and it’s a whole mess.” “Oh my, I can’t imagine what it would be like to make clothes in your world.” “Oh, fashion designers like you wouldn’t exist, hun. You’d make all your big bold designs for a one off runway show, but no one would wear them. Hell, I don’t even know what they do afterwards. It’s, like, making a painting. One and done.” “Really? That defeats the purpose of making such designs doesn’t it; to share with everypony” “Yup. It’s why most people don’t care.” Rarity briefly frowned at that statement, only for it to be wiped moments later with further discovery. “Anon, it is quite amazing the variety of clothing and styles that exist in your world!” Rarity’s eyes sparkled as she endlessly scrolled, never finding the same outfit twice.  “Yeah, people don’t buy a set of clothes that match. Instead, we mix and match according to what we like. Some want to wear tight leggings, some want leggings but also boots. Some want leggings but heels. A hoodie here, a yankee there, it’s all pieces we mix and match.” “So, is the reason you dislike my clothing is because they were too bright and didn’t allow you freedom?” Rarity looked up to Anon with a little melancholy in her eyes. Anon sighed, giving in to the whims of his predator. “It’s a little more complicated than that. The blue suit doesn’t work because that's Victorian fashion design.” Anon saw that Rarity was confused. “It’s old and no one wears that anymore. I’m surprised you ponies even have a similar fashion. The suit is a typical dress where I’m from but it’s far too formal and no one wears it daily. The dress...to put it bluntly, I aint fuckin’ with that.” “Then what would you want to wear, dear?” Anon scratched at his neck, feeling put under a spotlight. “Huh. Well, I guess I was always a hoodie guy. Something about them, nah mean?” There was that confused expression. “I meant, ‘you know what I mean’. Which, you wouldn't, which is fair. I’d also like a fitted once in a while, maybe a little design on the brim, I dunno. Oh, and new shoes! I’ve never been a sneakerhead, but these shoes are getting pretty worn, even for my tastes. I could also use some denim jeans, preferably dark grey, maybe a little ashy. Not to mention an assload of t-shirts and long sleeves and-“ “You’re awfully passionate about how you look for someone who likes to stay hidden,” Rarity interjected, catching Anon off guard. And shit, she was right. Anon never thought about clothes all that much, especially at this length.  “Well, you asked what I wanted!” Anon responded defensively. “I usually just buy clothes I like without a second thought. Human clothing is as convenient as it is a form of expression.” “I was only teasing, Anonymous.” Rarity giggled. “I do quite enjoy it when you just...talk. No mean-spirited insults, no pessimistic commentary, and certainly none of that humming nonsense from earlier. You can be quite insightful and passionate when you simply talk.”  Now Anon was uncomfortable. He could feel the heat rising under his skin and his everything was itchy. Fucking horses and their earnestness. Anon broke eye contact and faced the door, ordering his legs to carry him from this eternal prison. But his legs didn’t move, the bastards.  “I do understand that you may still feel a little uncomfortable and out-of-place here,” Rarity continued to say. “but it does give me hope that you can speak to me as you do.” “Don’t feel too special.” Anon grumbled, still looking away. A metaphorical lightbulb illuminated over Rarity for a brief instant.  “Anon, have you any artistic ability?” Anon casted a side eye to the mare. “Why is that important?” “Anonymous…”  “Well, indeed I might? Why?” “Well, it seems that I could use some education on your world’s fashion sense. So, I’d like you to assist me in some of my designs.” Anon looked back in Rarity’s direction.  “Look, I can draw, but I don’t know the first thing about fashion.” “Maybe not in technical terms nor in ability,” Rarity propped herself up on the couch and suddenly placed her hooves on Anon’s cheeks squishing them. “But I sense that you have vision! An artistic spark that burns deep within you that you refuse to show me!” “Rarity, stop.” Anon mumbled out through squished cheeks.  “Why, with the two of us, we could truly make something new and profound. Modular clothing that is simple, yet stylish. Unassuming, yet avant- grade!” “My face hurts…” With that, Rarity let go and jumped off the sofa, with renewed vigor.  “Come along, Anonymous! I’m feeling a second wind!” She starts trotting up the stairs, leaving her old designs at the bottom with a begrudging Anon. “I didn’t even say yes!”  Anon shouted after her. When he heard no response and instead the whirring of a sewing machine, he sighed. He stood up and began to follow her trail, before looking back at the older clothes. He picked up the tuxedo suit with the red tie once more, giving it his critical eye.  “Not in a million years.” He said under his breath, tossing it haphazardly behind him before continuing up the stairs.   Visit the Spa with Rarity? 𝤿 (Sidetracked)