//------------------------------//
// Chapter 13: The Art of the Stress 
// Story: A Twist of Fate 
// by Slireon 
//------------------------------//

“So you’re really going through with this, huh?”

“Rainbow Blitz, I’m a stallion of my word. When I make a promise, I keep the promise.”

The pegasus glanced around Elusive’s workshop. “Really, now? ‘Cause I’m not seeing any spandex…”

Elusive tsked, stretching the measuring tape around Blitz’s neck with a bit too much force. “Believe me, my dear, if I could, I would,” he muttered, voice cold as ice, and the pegasus tensed. “But disposing of your corpse would be quite a chore, and unfortunately, I don’t have time to spare.”

Rainbow Blitz wasn’t afraid of anything. That wasn’t even bravado, that was a scientific fact (even if Twilight refused to acknowledge it). But even he had to admit that Elusive looked pretty damn soulless with those slim glasses, whose lenses hid his eyes underneath the light’s reflection.

“How unfortunate indeed,” Elusive added, voice barely above a whisper, the measuring tape tight.

“Yeah… Unfortunate,” Blitz muttered nervously. “So, uhm, what are you making?”

“A suit,” the unicorn replied flatly, finally taking the tape off his throat and going to measure his barrel’s width.

“Yeah, no shit, what kind of suit?”

“A custom one.”

Blitz rolled his eyes heavily.

“Are we seriously going to do this, man?”

“Going to do what, my dear?” Elusive asked evenly.

“THAT!” Blitz snapped. “That thing you just did! The stupid cat-and-mouse game in which I ask you a question and you answer in the most annoyingly cryptic and laconic way you can!”

“Well, excuse me for being focused while I’m working. I know that’s a truly novel concept for you, Rainbow, but please do try to understand. It’s not that I don’t want to answer your inane questions – I don’t, by the way –, but rather that I want to do a good job and I need to be focused for it.”

“Jeez, what got into you? You’re being far more stuck up than usual.”

“I’m in the Zone, my dear. And you’re taking me out of it. Constantly.”

“The Zone? The fuck is that?”

Elusive paused, closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“You know what? Whatever. If you’re going to be this difficult, at least amuse me. What do you think The Zone is?”

“The hell do I know, I’m asking you for a reason.”

“Yes,” Elusive rolled his eyes, “perhaps I was asking too much from you.”

“I’m guessing it’s something like when you’re flying at top speed and you get tunnel vision and you feel like you’re the king of the world and nothing can stop you and you get thousands upon thousands of ideas for new tricks to try and feel like you could go on forever until you pull a muscle or run out of juice and come crashing down?”

Elusive stared flatly at him. He even stopped measuring him just to glare more effectively. “... Was it too hard for you to just say ‘when you’re inspired’?”

“Is it too hard for you to just say ‘yeah, that’s it’?” Blitz snarked back.

“Is it too hard for you to stop moving?” The unicorn smacked his notepad on Blitz’s forehead in chastisement.

“My name is literally Rainbow Blitz, my cutie mark is a lightning bolt and my whole shtick is flying really really fast. You tell me.”

“Sometimes, I wonder why we’re even friends in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, feeling’s mutual, jackass.”





All things considered, Elusive found extremely comforting that the interior of his rebuilt Boutique was a near exact replica of its previous incarnation. It helped him pretend that the dreadful Ursa attack last month had, finally, been left behind, and that life was once again normal. Allowed him to pretend, just for a few hours, that one of his closest friends hadn’t been near-fatally injured or that his little sister wasn’t plagued by nightmares.

However, even then he just couldn’t quite ignore the sparsely filled bookshelves that had once been bursting at the seams, or the lack of wear on the cushioned purple sofas. 

It was also hard to ignore the large orange stallion pacing a hole into his shiny new floor, a faraway look of bliss on his face. Especially when he was supposed to be taking his measurements.

“Ah had forgotten just how good it felt to walk…” Applejack breathed out in a sheer feverish delight, mere instants away from bolting away and probably doing something incredibly reckless that would injure him and set back his recovery.

Again.

“Only for a couple of hours, though,” Twilight interjected disapprovingly, barely sparing him a glance over her book.

Applejack gave Twilight a mock long-suffering sigh, rubbing his yet-to-be-shaved scruffy beard. “Twilight, lemme just have this, ‘kay? Ah’m sick to death of that darn wheelchair.”

“Well, if you actually stayed on the wheelchair,” Twilight rolled her eyes deeply, “maybe your recovery would go a lot faster.”

“And if ya casted yer magic on mah legs like Ah’ve been askin’ ya fer weeks, Ah wouldn’t need the wheelchair in the first place!” Applejack shot back.

“We’ve been over this,” Twilight sighed. “The medic said that magic would only go so far; your body has to mend itself on its own.” The annoyance on her tone made it perfectly clear for Elusive that this wasn’t the first time they argued about this, and, most likely, it wouldn’t be the last.

“And when has somethin’ like that stopped ya?” He pointed out. “Yer Twilight Freakin’ Sparkle! Yer a magical prodigy! Yer entire reason fer bein’ is pushing the boundaries of what’s possible just fer the sake of it! Imagine, ya could revolutionise magical medicine if ya just tried! Can’t ya do that fer me?”

Twilight closed her eyes, struggling to decide whether to be irked or flattered. Elusive reckoned that that was a constant struggle for her when dealing with Applejack, especially since the Ursa Attack.

He wasn’t privy to any details, and he wouldn’t dare ask, for those topics were between the two of them alone and nopony else (not that it would stop him from sleuthing out the truth and commenting on it with Butterscotch over tea), but he had noted that things had been awkward between them since the attack.

To nopony’s surprise, he mused. Ponies don’t rush headfirst against an Ursa Major for just a friend. If anypony had had any doubts about how Applejack felt about Twilight (not that he did, in any case—he had put two and two together a long time ago), that had cleared them utterly.

Except, perhaps, for Twilight herself.

Bless her heart, but the poor girl was blind.

As a matter of fact, Elusive was willing to bet that she had yet to realise the nature of her own feelings; most likely, she didn’t even know they existed at all. Twilight was an absolute genius, that much was true, but books cannot teach you emotional maturity or self-awareness.

Elusive took advantage of the pause in his friends’ banter to interject politely but firmly. “Yes, my dear, I imagine you must be overjoyed to be up and about again, but I could certainly do with you staying still for long enough for me to take your measures.”

“Oh,” Applejack looked startled, then abashed as he remembered the reason he was there in the first place. “Err. Sure,” he said, as he stepped up to the small elevated platform in front of one of the mirrors. After a couple of seconds, he added, “Oh, yeah, Ah’ve lost some weight, so Ah would keep that in mind if Ah were ya.” His gaze narrowed in determination. “Ah’ll get ‘em muscles back as soon as I can.”

Elusive pretended not to notice how Twilight shook her head lightly. “Noted,” he replied lightly, as he added a couple of centimeters to the barrel’s width. Applejack didn't look too different to how he did before the attack, but the slight difference in musculature was still noticeable enough. And with the Gala more than half a year away, Elusive had to account for what muscle Applejack could recover from here until May.

Here’s hoping nopony gets fat. Otherwise all of his hard work would be for naught and he’d have to start over. You could always adjust clothing for a tighter fit, but the opposite wasn’t true.

“Just don’t do anything stupid…” Twilight warned Applejack sternly, but Elusive could pick up the undercurrent of undue concern in her voice.

“What? Stupid? Me? Come on, Twi, don’t ya trust me?” Applejack replied, smiling innocently.

Silence.

“Okay, fair enough,” the stallion muttered. Twilight rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back to her trusty book. As usual, it was a different one from the last time Elusive had seen her. This time, it seemed, it was…

Elusive frowned.

'The Big Black Book of Evil.'

“What a cheerful book,” the unicorn mused sarcastically. Then again, considering just what the last months of their lives had been like, perhaps it was better to be safe than sorry.

Twilight didn’t look up. “Catching up with my research,” she stated simply, in a tone that left no room for further questions.  The two stallions shared a glance, then shrugged and went on with their business.

Applejack, unlike Rainbow Blitz, was a far more compliant (and pleasant) model, so they were done swiftly. It helped, too, that Applejack had such a distinct style from everypony else that Elusive already knew exactly what to do, which sped up the process by a fair bit.

“All right, Applejack. You’re free,” Elusive said after a few minutes.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the stallion bolted away, opened the door, and took his fidgeting hooves to the garden without any shred of self-preservation.

Twilight sighed heavily, quite literally burying her face in the pages of her book.

“Why do I even bother?” She muttered, exhausted, pulling back her head and resuming her reading, a deep, upset frown in her face.

Elusive nodded softly in sympathy, then motioned towards the platform facing the mirror. “My dear, it’s your turn. Put down your book. You can continue with your research later.”

“But I’ve put it off for far too long!” Twilight whined, not unlike Sweetie Belle when Elusive forbade her from doing whatever insane logic-defying scheme she and her friends had come up with to earn their Cutie Marks.

“Well, how much harm would putting it off for another hour or two do, then?” He countered.

“... Yeah, I guess,” Twilight sighed. “Just give me a sec.” To her credit, as soon as she finished the paragraph she was on, she marked the page, closed the book, stood up and took her place in front of the large mirror.

“You know, you’d be surprised at how often I find myself saying those exact same words,” Elusive chuckled light-heartedly.

“Which ones, ‘just give me a sec’?” Twilight raised an amused eyebrow.

The alabaster unicorn shook his head. “No, no no no!” There was a beat. He blinked once. “Well, I mean, yes, I do say those a lot. But no, I was talking about the ‘why do I even bother’ bit.”

Twilight cocked her head. “Oh, really?”

“Oh, really. Being the only sane stallion in the room is a rather tiring chore.”

Twilight just stared at him, deeply unimpressed. “Seriously? You are trying to one-up me on the ‘only sane pony’ department? Should I remind you of that one time when you and the other guys went on a rampage trying to win a ticket instead of just listening to me?”

Elusive looked down to his hooves in shame. It wasn’t his proudest moment. “Well, yes, but that was the one time!”

“Or the time you borrowed over forty books from the library and never returned them only for the Ursa to destroy them, forcing me to buy new copies out of my own pocket money? Do you even know how much you owe me in overdue fees?”

“I said I was sorry…” Elusive pouted.

“Or the time you dragged me along to create an Equestrian–Eldritch Abomination dictionary?”

“Well, now that was Butterscotch’s fault! I was just as opposed to it as you were!” Although, to be fair with the pegasus, the dictionary was extremely useful. And knowing just how much Fate seemed to hate their guts, they might as well need it one day.

“Or the time you scared me off a tower and broke my leg?”

“That was Phil, not me. And to be fair with him, that was mostly your fault. You were stalking him, after all.”

Twilight continued, undeterred by such bothersome things as ‘her fault’. “Or what about the time you burned down the town?”

At that, Elusive interrupted her rather forcefully. “Now, now, NOW! That was my sister’s fault! My sister’s, not mine! Perhaps you’ve met her? Clumsy, adorable little filly who somehow manages to destroy everything in her way?”

Twilight stared at him flatly.

“The second time.”

Elusive looked away and grumbled. “Not my fault that Phil decided to bring along a bloody field cannon…”

Twilight facehoofed, but she was unable to hide her amused smile. “Maybe, but nopony forced you to use it as well.”

“Desperate times require desperate measures,” Elusive sniffed. “Anything else?”

“Why, now that you ask, yes, a lot of things!” Twilight smirked acidly. “Just off the top of my head, what about the time I had to crash at your house for a month because I was homeless and I had to endure all the annoying shenanigans you guys kept dragging me into?”

“Yes, well, let me tell you, it wasn’t a walk in the park for me either,” Elusive rolled his eyes, amused.

The scholar paused for a moment, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s just say that I understand now why Spike says you’re the worst roommate in all of Equestria,” the stallion snarked dryly.

Twilight gasped, thoroughly scandalised. “You take that back right this instant!”

“Why? Celestia forbid Spike be right about something?” Elusive snorted a laugh.

“He can’t be right about that, because he’s lying! I’m not that bad!”

Elusive raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“...Okay maybe I’m pretty bad, but Lyra is way worse!” Twilight said lamely.

“Oh, really." Considering Twilight’s track record, that was hard to believe, and, indeed, he wasn’t inclined to do so.

Besides, why would he, in any case? So far, Lyra had been nothing but unfailingly polite to him, actually wore the clothes she bought, and perhaps more importantly, she had not tried to perform awake brain transplants between his extremely unwilling cat and his disturbingly willing little sister just because ‘she was getting rusty and needed the practice’, which to be honest only raised an entire host of other questions.

Elusive really needed to sit down with Sweetie Belle and have a Talk. The filly was getting out of control.

“Yeah, really,” Twilight said, as if it was obvious.

“And however would you know that about Ms. Heartstrings, I wonder?” Admittedly, he didn’t know much about Twilight’s life before coming to Ponyville, but he did know that they were ‘friends’ (for a given value of friends) from the Academy. Perhaps they had once shared a room or something.

“She’s my new neighbour. She and Bon Bon get into screaming matches every three hours about pretty much everything and anything,” Twilight explained. “Every. Three. Hours. Like, down to the second. At this point I don’t even bother looking up at my clock anymore; clocks can – and do – malfunction and desynchronize, but Lyra and Bon Bon have got their timing down to the atomic second. Trust me, I’ve run the tests.”

Elusive didn’t have the faintest idea of what an atomic second was or how it differed from a normal second, but it sounded like something extremely precise. “That actually sounds like a rather convenient way of keeping track of time, so if you’re trying to mope about your misery, my dear, it doesn’t count.”

“Only ‘cause you haven’t heard them…” Twilight grumbled, mostly to herself, before replying, “Well, running a library in a town where nopony reads certainly does.”

“Running a fashion store despite the fact that we rarely, if ever, wear any clothes,” Elusive shot back without missing a beat. Saying that felt like scratching an itch.

“Dealing with Phil Pie,” Twilight countered immediately.

“Yes, he is quite maddening,” Elusive agreed, nodding solemnly. “But I have to deal with him, too, so we’re even on that front.”

“Well..." she made a show of pretending to think about it for a couple of seconds, "how about the time when we were supposed to diplomatically convince a dragon to leave in peace, yet you guys managed to enrage him into a murderous frenzy?”

“That was entirely Applejack’s fault. I distinctly recall calling him a moron for it.”

“Or when you guys interrupted my fight against an Ursa Major against my orders and almost got killed?”

“Also Applejack’s fault.” He was starting to see a pattern.

“Or the time you kept disobeying medical advice and worsening your condition unnecessarily out of sheer impatience and stubbornness?”

“Applejack. Like, right now as we speak.” 

They could see him through the window. He was doing some admittedly skillful (if wobbly) backflips. Elusive was actually rather impressed at such a marvelous display of physical prowess; despite everything that had happened to him, the stallion was still leagues away from him when it came down to fitness.

As a matter of fact, seeing such a spectacle made Elusive start to suspect that Applejack wasn’t in as bad a shape as Twilight insisted, but rather that she was overreacting in her attempts to keep him safe and sound, like the overly concerned fillyfriend she insisted on telling herself she wasn’t. At this rate, next thing he knew she would plaster foam all over every sharp corner in town.

“Or th—?”

He cut her off before she could get another word out. “Applejack.”

The purple unicorn frowned. “You don’t even know what I’m about to say!”

“Am I wrong, though?” Elusive asked pointedly.

Twilight opened her mouth to answer, but right on cue, a crashing, strepitous sound came through the window. It was as if somepony had just stumbled and face planted straight into a shed of tools and wroke major havoc on it.

An “Ah’m okay!” followed soon after. “Ah’m just stuck under a shelf, that’s all!”

A beat.

“Uhm, Elusive? Yer cat is starin’ at me. She, uh, doesn’t seem pretty happy.”

A low, rumbling growl.

“Are a cat’s claws supposed to be that big? Or sharp?”

“HISSSSSSSSSSS!”

“Y’know what, on secon’ thought, maybe no, Ah’m not okay!”

Twilight grimaced, sighing in defeat.

“I rest my case,” Elusive rolled his eyes, entirely unbothered by the all-powerful evil Applejack had awoken. That’s what he gets for disturbing Opal’s beauty sleep. He paused. “Why are you taking care of him anyways? Couldn’t Big Mac do it? He’s his brother after all.”

It was left unsaid that Granny Smith, old as she was, had her hooves full taking care of the weapon of mass destruction everypony knew as ‘Apple Bloom’. And Celestia forbid Apple Bloom herself was left in charge of Applejack. It was a sure recipe for disaster, and to be perfectly honest, they weren’t exactly jumping in excitement at the prospect of Ponyville being obliterated again.

Again.

He also kept quiet about why he suspected Twilight was taking care of Applejack. As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t help her when it came to such matters of the heart. She had to work them out on her own.

“He’s too busy working in the orchard,” Twilight explained. “It’s harvesting season, after all… And somepony has to buck Applejack out of the orchard when he tries to sneak in and help,” she finished with a mirthless laugh.

“Does that happen often?”

“HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

“Guys?” Applejack’s voice was scared. “Please?! Ah’ll pay ya, Ah swear, just help me out of here!

They ignored him.

“Quoth Applejack: ‘eeyup’.”

He couldn’t help his curiosity. “... How often?”

“About thrice a day,” Twilight sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

“MREOW!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Celestia,” Elusive shook his head. “He just doesn’t learn, does he?”

“Oh, he learns, alright. It’s just that he forgets what he’s learned five minutes later.”

“That’s almost the exact same thing as ‘not learning’.”

“OH FUCK OH CELESTIA OH SHIT IT HURTS SO MUCH WHAT THE FUCK AH THOUGHT CATS WERE SOFT AND FLUFFY NOT EVIL MURDER MACHINES ON DRUGS OH FUCK AH REGRET EVERYTHIN’ PLEASE HELP GUYS AH’M BEGGIN’ YA!”

“I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt,” Twilight shrugged. “He has his heart in the right place, and he’s trying to learn and change, I know he is, but he’s just too damn stubborn for his own good.”

And there it was, for about the fourth time in the day: the slight edge to her voice that hinted at the maelstrom of conflicting emotions Elusive knew all too well a smitten heart harboured.

I’m calling dibs on Best Stallion, he snarked internally. He had earned as much, he believed. After all, he would be the one designing both of their wedding outfits, free of charge.

Unless they picked Rainbow Blitz as their Best Stallion, in which case he’d just charge them sevenfold if he was feeling particularly generous that day.

Now, of course, that was still far away into the future. Just hopefully not too far into the future, because otherwise Butterscotch would win their bet, and there was no way in Tartarus he was doing that.

“Well, we can only hope,” Elusive stated evenly. “Now, forget about Applejack” – But not too much. Celestia, what was I even thinking when I agreed to that? Underneath his timid demeanour, Butterscotch hid a truly devious, twisted mind – “and tell me what you want for your dress.”

“WHAT?! NO, NONONONONO, DON’T FORGE— GET OFF ME YA STUPID CAT — DON’T FORGET ABOUT APPLEJACK, APPLEJACK NEEDS YER — OH FUCK THAT’S MY YUGULAR — HELP!” 

Twilight looked lost. “Uhhhhh…”

“You have no idea, don’t you?”

“Not… really, no,” she replied sheepishly. To be fair with her, fashion and looks were most definitely not her area of expertise.

Fortunately for her, it was his.

“Ah, it matters not. I’ll come up with something that is sure to delight you.”

“I don’t doubt it. Care to share?”

“Patience is a virtue, my dear. You’ll just have to wait and see.” Elusive looked Twilight up and down with a critical eye, an idea forming. “Hmmm, I think I’m onto something. If I may?”

“Go for it,” the mare allowed simply.

With his magic, Elusive picked up Twilight’s long mane and pulled it up into a bun, then proceeded to measure her neckline.

She frowned, uncomfortable at the way the measuring tape slithered across all her neck. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’d rather not make any blind guesses, my dear.” Besides, if he got it wrong, it could end up being either too baggy to keep its form or too tight to be comfortable, and that just wouldn’t do.

“No, I get that. It’s just… the neck? Really?”

“Well, I was thinking of a high collar, like the Princess usually wears…”

“Oh,” Twilight instantly calmed down, mollified. “Okay then.”

Elusive stifled a snort. She could be so predictable sometimes.

Within a minute he was done, and was about to let her hair fall down when he glanced towards the mirror and paused. He frowned in thought.

Twilight noticed his pause.

“What is it?” she asked.

Elusive gave it a second’s thought before answering. “Say, Twilight, have you ever considered doing your hair in a bun? It looks good on you.”

“AH’M DYIN’ OVER HERE COME ON!”

The mare blinked, looking at her reflection thoughtfully.

“Well, no, not really,” she admitted. “I just never thought it was worth the extra effort. I mean, I’m always so busy with research and stuff, so… eh. You know what I mean?”

Elusive stared at her, then stared at his reflection’s carefully groomed mane (he had yet to grow back his moustache; despite how much he loved it, he was so far unable to have grown hair on his upper lip without being overcome with nausea), then back at her.

“No,” he said bluntly.

Twilight giggled. “Yeah, I was barking at the wrong tree, there.” She took another second to look at her reflection, tilting her head. “It does look good, though.”

“And it’s hardly any effort at all, mind you,” Elusive pointed out. “Look”, he said, as he grabbed a lavender ribbon and tied her hair up in a bun, leaving both her bangs and two large locks of hair free to frame her face, all in less than a second.

“Huh.”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Elusive snarked, earning an amused smack to the head by Twilight.

“Shut up, you,” she laughed. “So? What are you going to do for my dress? Besides the high collar, I mean. Will you draw inspiration from the Princess’s?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, patience, patience, my dear,” Elusive chuckled. Indeed, he would draw inspiration from a certain selection of the Princess’s previous Gala outfits, but it was endearing and vindicating to hear her so excited about it. “I will tell you one thing, though.”

So he did. Twilight frowned, doubtful.

“And exactly how are you going to pull that off?”

Elusive laughed. “Oh, you make it sound as if it’s going to be hard!”





“... Motherfucker.”

Perhaps doing six different outfits that strike the perfect balance between original, unique twists to the formula, and an unifying motif behind them all, was easier said than done. Especially considering five of them were suits.

Dressmaking is easy. In fact, earlier that very day, in a rush of inspiration, Elusive had come up with an entire song and dance number about what he liked to call ‘the Art of the Dress’. But suits?

“What am I even supposed to do with suits?” Elusive muttered, resting his head on his front hooves and staring intently at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. “There’s nothing to work with in here!”

As a matter of fact, he was half tempted to do a dark reprise of the aforementioned song, renamed ‘The Art of the Stress’, but he needed to concentrate his creative energy elsewhere. Otherwise, he’d be here forever.

Now, Twilight’s gown was the easiest of them all: a high-collared, sleeveless blue and cerulean dress, with interlocking royal celestial patterns made of golden thread on the laced barrel and silver stars on the hem of the skirt, and stylish cerulean sandals of Unicornian design. Simple and understated, yet mesmerising and memorable, just like Twilight herself, all the while echoing the Princess’s own favoured minimalist style, highlighting the connection between the two of them.

Fortunately, given that Applejack had survived his encounter with Opal (a feat nopony else could claim to have done. Probably because no other pony had gotten into a deathmatch with his cantankerous cat, but well, that’s Applejack for you, Elusive supposed), he hadn’t had to scrap the idea he had immediately had for his suit; especially because it was a challenging design Elusive was eager to try out.

Keeping in line with Applejack’s own unique fashion style, the three piece suit Elusive had sketched was sober, grounded and humble, yet exquisitely fashionable: a silken shirt, a denim waistcoat, a light brown corduroy low-cut blazer, and a darker long coat with Applejack’s cutie mark made up with rubies and emeralds on the lapel, all of it sewn together by a golden thread. And, last but not least, two pairs of finely finished cowboy boots.

In many ways, Applejack’s suit looked rather similar to the dusters the colonists wore on the dry, harsh deserts of Griffonia, or on the wild, unpredictable frontier of the New World—simple, comfortable and grounded. Yet, at the same time, it was fashionable and rich, close enough to Equestria’s high society’s rather prickly standards for the suit to be considered a refreshing new take on the norm than an unacceptable deviation… as long as it was executed masterfully.

Much of it hinged on the choice of denim as the fabric of the waistcoat; due to how cheap it was to produce, myriad of textile factories were popping up all across Equestria and her colonies, and it was being sold at such low prices that it was quickly becoming associated with lower, working class ponies.

However, hoofcrafted denim could, under the hooves of a skilled artisan (such as himself), be used to enormous success and even surpass velvet.

Sure, he was taking considerable risks with the design he had made for Applejack’s suit, but Elusive was sure he was up to the task. Besides, this was as elegant as he could go when it came to the farm stallion; knowing him, even an average, plain black suit would be unbearably fancy for him, so Elusive had to try something new.

The other four suits, though? He had absolutely nothing beyond the bare essentials: a three piece suit.

Suits are just the same old boring thing, over and over again. It was mind-numbing. And trying to make something unique out of them without going overboard or crossing straight into ‘garish’ territory was tortuously difficult.

Applejack’s had been the exception, if only because his style was extremely distinctive and expressive. But how could he convey the others’ personalities through their suits? He only had scattered ideas here and there; for Blitz, a black waistcoat with a pinstripe style made up with his rainbow pattern, warm colours towards the centre and colder towards the sides; light, lively colours for Phil; patterns of Nordic knots in Butterscotch’s stitching. And probably some small details in indigo and light blue for his own, but what else, he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

At least Shining Armor had shared with him the guidelines for the Royal Guard’s code of dress, so Elusive had a basis to work with for the Captain’s uniform; in fact, he was already done with it, and now he just had to fold it, put it in a package, and hand it over to him.

Unfortunately, those very same guidelines stated that civilians wearing military-inspired dress uniforms was very frowned upon, so that had put an end to half the ideas he'd had… And all the good ones, to boot.

Now he had to look elsewhere for a distinct, unifying theme. Ideally one that wouldn’t irk the volatile sensibilities of the aristocrats and high-society ponies he wished to impress.

Why couldn’t we all just be mares? Elusive mused miserably. Everything would be just insanely easier: a rainbow skirt for Blitz and gilded Pegasi elements; floral and natural motifs for Butterscotch’s. Puffy, saloon-esque blue-and-white for Phil. And of course, his (“hers”?) would be nothing short of Princess-worthy. 

There’s a reason I prefer working with dresses, after all. They’re just so much easier. There’s so much creative freedom to be had…

But alas, they were not mares, and the designs he had drawn up when overtaken by inspiration (the same inspiration that had resulted in the aforementioned song and dance number) now languished in the bottom of his drawer, never to become real dresses, for there was nopony to wear them.

Well, Phil would probably wear it anyways so it wouldn’t be a total loss, Elusive supposed, idly playing with his pencil. Maybe Butterscotch too if I asked nicely. Or threatened him with a knife.

With a sigh, the unicorn threw himself backwards against his chair, and stared into the ceiling.

“What am I even doing with my life?” he muttered, not for the first time since he had opened his Boutique.

He hadn’t lied to Twilight about how miserable it was to be the only tailor in a small town in which rarely any pony wore clothing.

True, it was his passion, and more often than not, working on what he was meant to do was payment enough to make it all worth it… But the fact remained that if it weren’t for his father’s monthly stipendium, Elusive would be hardly making ends meet.

True, he had enjoyed a rather profitable couple of weeks as he reopened the Boutique, but he knew from experience it was not meant to last. After all, Ponyvillians were just looking to restock on all the wardrobe they had lost, nothing else. They didn’t care much for clothes before the Ursa’s attack, and nothing had truly changed since then. Once they had what they needed, they would stop coming to his Boutique. As always, being a small town tailor was not a sustainable business, especially when he was so adverse to setting up high prices.

Now, the situation would be entirely different were he established in the larger cities, where industrialisation had brought along a veritable boom in the fashion industry, with clothing becoming not only more and more commonplace, but a social statement as well.

Canterlot had a more conservative and aristocratic take on fashion, but that was not the case in the cities of Manehattan, Poulis, Brigliano, Lenden, or Wiehern; all of them were just waiting for young, innovative and bold artists to take the fashion scene by storm. It was the perfect place for somepony like him to establish himself. And even if he didn’t exactly become a sensation, it was still a profitable enough career with a booming demand that Elusive would prosper comfortably.

But in the meantime, while he was still stuck in Ponyville?

No recognition.

No respect.

Nothing.

Just snide remarks and acid jokes about being a well-meaning slacker and sissy who was only good for playing dress up.

Oh, but the second they have to attend a wedding, they’re all smiles, he growled softly, rubbing his face in frustration.

And because it wasn’t enough, now Rainbow Blitz wanted him to burn down the career he had fought tooth and hoof to establish just to wank off to how great he was.

It made his blood boil.

But he was powerless to do anything about it.

This was it.

There was no path forward.

Oh, but there is, a small voice whispered in his mind. You’re just looking at it all wrong.

Oh, really, he raised a skeptical eyebrow, sight still fixated on the roof.

Yes, really.

Well then, Elusive sighed. Humour me, Me. And if you’re going to say ‘well, the Gala outfits are your ticket out, obviously!’, may I remind you that we’re in this situation because that’s not working out?

So narrow minded, the voice scoffed. See, that’s your problem. You need to think outside the box!

Think outside the box, he repeated flatly.

Yes. You’re needlessly limiting yourself just to fashion designing.

Probably because that’s my job?

Only because you’ve chosen it. Or have you forgotten what Captain Armour said? About running for Mayor?

Elusive paused.

Now that was a thought.

But… My cutie mark… he began to protest.

The voice was having none of it. Have you forgotten how you got it?

"A ROCK?!" Elusive’s eleven-year-old self had raged against the heavens. "THAT’S my destiny?! Are you kidding me?! What is your problem, horn?! You dragged me all the way out here for a stupid ROCK?!"

Yet a sudden, massive explosion had caused the rock to split apart and reveal that, underneath its unremarkable stone carcass, it was filled to the brim with rare, wonderful gems, the missing pieces for the costumes he had been trying to make for weeks.

It wasn’t about tailoring, the voice explained; otherwise you’d have a thread and needle, or something like that. It was about finding and applying hidden potential. About perseverance and dedication. That is what your cutie mark symbolises. You’re the one who decided to apply those talents to fashion.

Because I like it, Elusive pointed out, but there was no force behind it.

Well, obviously. But no one’s forcing you to stay in this path if you feel it will get you nowhere, at least in the short-term. No one but yourself.

And what are you proposing? That I close shop? Abandon this career? Forsake my dreams? Elusive wasn’t even angry. He just felt exhausted and frustrated.

My dear, don’t be silly, of course not. If it’s truly your dream, if it’s what makes your heart pump and drives you to be the best you can be, then you have to pursue it until the bitter end. But until new opportunities arise, perhaps branching out and prioritising other endeavours might be the wiser course of action.

Elusive sighed. He was right.

He thought back to his ambitions for the Gala. It wasn’t so much about making a name and gaining fame and exposure (although that was a very nice plus) for his fashion business. As a matter of fact, that had only occurred to him the other day, when he decided to make everypony’s suits, as it was an opportunity unlike any other.

Alas, what good is all that if a war breaks out? the words he had uttered to Twilight when he first met her floated in his mind. Well, at least we’ll all look fabulous while we bleed out in the mud…

Because even when Equestria Proper was as stable as always, the entire Empire stood on the threshold of a major disaster, like a wobbling house of cards; all it took was a simple breeze, and it would all go down.

While in a few days it would be the fourth anniversary of the Treaty of Eóforwic, which recognised Scoltish and Hayrish independence from Trottingham, the issue was far from being settled. Lenden bayed for the ‘rebels’ to face fire and blood, and the new queen, young and inexperienced as she was, was an unknown, unpredictable factor.

To the northeast was an ever-growing four-way militaristic brinkmanship between Herdmany, Russaria, Austrot and the Nordic Herd, all eager to take control of the fertile, rich plains of Eastern Pegasia, with poor Poneland, the owner of said lands, being caught in the crossfire.

Never mind the numerous internal factors that threatened the stability of each kingdom, making an aggressive foreign policy practically inevitable if their governments were to quell them: Herdmany’s zealous, sabre-rattling military high command that held a massive influence over the entire kingdom; Russaria’s crippling inequalities rapidly unraveling their social pact; the Nordic Herd’s desire to be a self-sufficient Great Power by no longer relying on food shipments from the south; Poneland’s perceived vulnerability and growing subordination against its neighbours; and Austrot being, essentially, a rotten, near-mutilated corpse that only managed to keep on walking thanks to its cultural influence.

To the west, Prance was living through a gilded, splendid decadence, with its bloated, oversized aristocracy proving not only unable, but also unwilling to adapt to the changing tides, holding zealously to their privileges and wealths, and its strong centralised monarchy being plagued by weak-willed and hedonistic kings and heirs.

During the previous century, the court of King Rocinante V of Espuela had been one of the foremost hubs of innovation and culture, but those days were long gone: the soon-to-be-113-year-old king himself was now nothing more than a withered old crone, and Espuela was facing an acute power vacuum that threatened to tear the kingdom apart.

Hayzantium was, as always, a wildcard, with its extremely unstable and militarised political structure in which might made right, plus the shadow of major escalation that loomed ever-present over their ongoing conflict with the Saddle Arabians. While this wasn’t exactly new, it was severely worsened by the fact that the Basileus’s very capable and battle-hardened firstborn, beloved by the army and most of the landed nobility, had been bypassed in the succession in favour of his equally-capable yet inexperienced younger sister, who had the support of the Senate, making a succession crisis all but inevitable when their father died.

Neightalia, too, was unpredictable: with its under-developed and backwards institutions, inept military command, and their unrealistically high ambitions of a renewed Unicornian Empire, they had so far only managed to take control of the war-torn western coast of Griffonia, embarrass themselves, and turn into the laughing stock of Equestria in the process. To what extents they would go in order to mend their bruised pride and achieve their lofty ambitions, not even Celestia knew.

And all of that wasn’t even taking into consideration the growing social unrest going around the big cities or the countless proxy conflicts in the New World, all of which threatened to escalate and turn into a catastrophe of major proportions in Equestria itself!

The state of affairs had been growing graver and graver by the day, despite the Princess’ best attempts to keep the kingdoms in line by playing peacemaker and brokering deals. 

Yet, the sad truth was that, legally speaking, there just wasn’t much else she could do about it. Beyond Equestria Proper, she was just a mere figurehead, and with the Imperial Army conformed by volunteers from all across the realm, she couldn’t take punitive action against the constituent kingdoms without facing major mutinies and having her reputation suffer a severe blow from which it might never recover.

So diplomacy it was. And while no single pony could fix such a maelstrom of issues, Elusive just couldn’t sit easy knowing he could do something about it; indeed, he needed to do something, anything about it.

And that was what he truly wanted out of the Gala: power and influence. Or, more exactly, the power and the influence to help Equestria. Because Equestria needed every help she could get.

This wasn’t about himself. This was about changing Equestria for the better, about defusing tensions before they could reach the breaking point, and about fixing once and for all the uneven, patchwork-like system that allowed the constituent kingdoms to do whatever they damn well pleased at the expense of the rest of Equestria.

The feudal system had long outstayed its welcome. The winds of change were blowing.

And somepony had to steer the ship through these trying times, reaching where even the Princess couldn’t or wouldn’t. Somepony had to make those sacrifices. Somepony had to put their neck and their reputation on the line, so she wouldn’t have to.

But he had to be realistic. Even if everything went even better than he could imagine, he could hardly ever become a Lord Chancellor within at least ten years. He was barely twenty-two.

And entirely lacking in political experience aside from reading a boatload of novels, news, and political treatises.

Not for long, Elusive decided, reincorporating himself with a start. He could continue with the suits tomorrow; now, though, he had other things in mind.





“Here you go, Captain Armor.”

“I told you to just call me Shining, Elusive,” the captain chuckled good-naturedly, receiving the parcel with his own magic.

“So you have,” the alabaster unicorn conceded, “but I’m afraid I can be rather stubborn when it comes to certain formalities.” 

Instead of replying, Shining Armor shook his head in amusement as he started opening the package to have a look, so Elusive stood there, fidgeting awkwardly and feeling uncomfortably tiny. He had half a mind to place the blame on the high-ceilings of the new town hall. 

While the new town hall was a pleasure to the eyes, having more than a passing resemblance to Russaria’s Winter Palace (minus the sprawling gardens, and, naturally, with only a minuscule fraction of the size), Elusive found the white, high-vaulted and sophisticated interiors to be rather intimidating. Even if the town hall was still a work in progress, with most of its facade still covered in scaffolding and artisans giving the finishing touches to the interiors, he had never expected to see such splendour arrive to his quaint little town, and now that he was standing there, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

He felt like he was in a daze, star-struck by it all. It was like a scene out of his novels, come to life, with him as the protagonist. As if a piece of the Royal Palace had been transplanted and placed squarely in the heart of Ponyville.

And to think that, in May, he would attend the Grand Galloping Gala in Canterlot itself.

If this was intimidating, that was outright terrifying. He would consider himself lucky if he survived through the night without having a panic attack.

By the time the suit was out of the package, Elusive, in his desperate need to do something to break the oppressive silence, broke one of his most sacred rules of business.

“I’ll be honest with you, I’m not entirely convinced with the end result,” he talked down his work, voice trembling with anxiety. “The code of dress didn’t give me as much leeway as I would have liked.”

Shining turned to look at him incredulously.

“What are you talking about? This is amazing! Cadence is gonna love it.” He smiled widely, eyeing his new dress uniform up and down like a colt with his new favourite toy. “Makes my old one look like a bunch of unwashed rags.” Shining Armor paused. “Which, come to think of it, they kind of were.”

As always, flattery made himself feel more at ease… but it didn’t make Shining Armor’s statement any less disgusting to Elusive’s hypersensitive fashion sense. Elusive pinched his nose. “Ew.”

“Yeah…” Shining looked away, sheepishly. With that look on his face, he had a striking resemblance to his little sister. “In my defense, I’m always wearing it for just about everything, so it’s really worn out.”

The tailor tilted his head. “Aren’t you supposed to only wear your dress uniform on formal occasions, though?” At least, that was what the code of dress said.

“When you’re the Captain of the Royal Guard, every occasion is a formal occasion,” Shining replied wearily. “At this point, I think I’ve spent more time of my life inside that damned suit than outside.”

“But surely you have other suits, don’t you?” he tentatively asked, trying to stop himself from doing the math of the Captain’s hopefully hyperbolic statement.

“Nope. Just the one.” Somehow, he seemed fine with the idea.

Ah, so being a slob runs in the family, Elusive was tempted to remark, but held his tongue. It wouldn’t do to insult the Captain of the Royal Guard and his family right to his face, nevermind how self-deprecating he was himself.

“But now, thanks to you,” Shining Armor continued, oblivious to Elusive’s thinly hidden disgust at his clothing habits, “I have a new and far better one! Good thing, too, because I’m sure that if I showed up to the Gala with the old one, Cadence would dump my ass right on the streets,” he laughed. “And wouldn’t that suck? I’ve already bought the ring and everything…”

How about that, Twilight? Spike was right, he noted with amusement. 

“I’m sure she’ll find no reason to be displeased with your new suit,” Elusive said politely, already thinking of ways to profit off this new tidbit he had learnt. Probably by doing a bet with Twilight, but the poor girl wasn’t big on betting money; meanwhile, the rest of the guys were in agreement that Cadence was, indeed, the Captain’s fillyfriend, so he couldn’t bet against them. What to do, what to do...

“Spoken like a true politician,” Shining chuckled. He did that a lot. “Speaking of, have you thought about running for mayor?”

“As a matter of fact, I have,” Elusive said simply.

“Great!” Shining smiled widely, but as Elusive allowed the conversation to fall into a tactical silence, his smile grew stilted. “... It’s great… right?” he asked pausedly, before his eyes widened in panic. “Oh Celestia please tell me you’ve got good news for me,” he spluttered.

Elusive nodded, satisfied at how the Captain had broken before he had. “Yes, they’re good news.”

“OH THANK CELESTIA,” Shining Armor breathed out, his body sagging in relief.

“You really don’t like Filthy Rich, do you?”

“I’d rather ask the Princess to declare Martial Law,” he stated bluntly.

“Why? Have you grown fond of ruling your very own town? Perhaps you’ve decided you rather like this new palace and want it all for yourself?” Elusive teased the Captain, but he couldn’t keep the edge off his voice. Reality was slowly sinking in.

Shining Armor stared flatly at him, entirely unamused.

“Elusive, let me make myself perfectly clear. The sooner I get out of here and deployed somewhere else, the better.” He raised a hoof to silence Elusive, though it wasn’t necessary; the alabaster unicorn knew his manners. “Now, don’t get me wrong. I like Ponyville. I like the ponies around here. Getting to see my little siblings again is great! Getting to meet you guys was great, too. And, yeah, sure, the new town hall is nice and all. But I fucking hate being the acting mayor.”

Elusive blinked. He was pretty sure that was the first time he had heard Shining Armor curse.

“And…” Elusive was taken aback. “You’d rather be the acting mayor indefinitely than give the post to Filt—?”

“Yes.”

“Sweet Celestia, what did Filthy Rich do to you?”

The Captain snorted in contempt. “He’s a vapid crowd-pleaser. He thinks he can run the town like he runs his business. Nevermind the part in which his business is running at a loss and he refuses to release his tax returns.” Shining shook his head. “You can’t solve all your problems by throwing money at them.”

“And you think that’s what he’d do as mayor?” Elusive questioned. “Spend money senselessly instead of actually addressing the issues?”

“Two things,” the Captain began. “First: no, I don’t think he’ll do that. I think he’ll make all kinds of harebrained promises to get elected, then syphon money off the treasury and turn a profit out of what should be a service to the community.” 

Now, that was a real concern… And unfortunately, knowing Filthy Rich’s tendency to resort to legally questionable tactics, not an implausible one. That’s what happened when you were taught from birth to always push the boundaries of what’s right and allowed, and ‘be a killer’ in your pursuit of profit, Elusive presumed.

Shining raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Second, have you seen his kid?” 

Elusive grimaced. No need to ask him about Diamond Tiara; he knew all too well just how rotten the little brat was. “Point taken.”

“Exactly. You can see why I was so eager to have…” Shining paused for an instant, thinking it over. “Literally anypony else have a go at it.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” he allowed, then gulped.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

He had imagined it would go over something like this and had planned for it. He had even spent a couple of hours practicing his speech in front of the mirror, much to Sweetie Belle’s bemusement.

It wasn’t his first pitch, either; the pit on his stomach was an old friend of his, and he knew how to overcome his nerves.

Yet, when he opened his mouth, he found himself saying something entirely different.

“But I’m not sure I’m an ideal candidate, I’m afraid. I’m only twenty-two years old, and I haven’t got the faintest idea of how to run a town.” 

“Well, you can’t go worse than Filthy Rich,” Shining Armor said as if it was meant to console him, yet, given just how low his opinion of the bussinesspony was, Elusive felt damned by faint praise.

“Are you sure about that?” Elusive’s eyes widened in horror as he torpedoed his own candidacy, yet he couldn’t stop himself. “Filthy Rich, at the very least, has vast experience in administration; and good or bad, experience is still experience. I’m just a nopony with a tailor shop. Why do you want me so much for this?”

Shining sighed, then placed a comforting hoof on Elusive’s shoulder. 

“Look. You’re getting cold-hooves. I get it. Oh, do I get it. But trust me when I tell you that you’re the right pony for the job. You’re smart. You’re compassionate. You’re generous, and you never quit. You fight the good fight until the bitter end. And most importantly, you’re a good stallion. And that’s exactly what Ponyville needs right now.”

“With all due respect, how are you so sure about that?” Elusive asked, frowning. “You don’t know me that much. We’re merely acquaintances.”

“Maybe, but Twily vouches for you.”

“You place a lot of faith on her word.”

“When has she ever been wrong?” Shining replied with a light smile. “And I’ve got it on good authority that I’m an excellent judge of character. I’m the Captain of the Royal Guard for a reason, after all. I’ve noticed how you carry yourself. How you read the room and everypony on it before speaking. How you’ve been reading me and playing off my words to reply properly during this entire conversation, don’t you think I didn’t notice,” Elusive looked away, slightly embarrassed. “Hey. It’s a good thing. You’re a natural politician. And sure, you’re young. But I wasn’t much older than you when I was promoted to Captain.”

“You were twenty-four,” Elusive recalled reading it in the papers. It caused quite the commotion.

Normally, Elusive would suspect that some truly rotten nepotism had taken place if somepony achieved the rank of Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Guard (and, by proxy, the highest ranking army officer in all of Equestria) by the age of twenty-four. Yet, Shining Armor was a fascinating exception to the rule. 

Namely, he was born to minor nobility; a family so minor their founder and most illustrious forebear had been an errant knight centuries ago that had been ennobled by the Princess for her bravery during the war against the Kalmärr Coalition. Yet, the family currently held no titles, nor lands, nor wealth, and most certainly had no influence whatsoever. For all intents and purposes, they were just average commoners with a fancy coat of arms hanging by the fireplace.

He hadn’t any uncles or cousins in high places. Shining Armor had risen through the ranks by his own merit, entirely unrelated (as Elusive had thought at first) to his sister’s own stellar career as the Princess’ hoof-picked personal student and protégé. 

They were the trailblazers of their family. Theirs were the names their descendants would bear with pride and use to get ahead in life. It was amazing to think the heights the two siblings had achieved... and then realise just how young they were. Twilight was a few months shy of eighteen. Shining Armor was twenty-six. They had their entire lives and careers ahead of them, and anypony who knew them knew that they were just getting started.

Move aside, Celestia and Artemis, Elusive mused blasphemously, idly hoping that Twilight had yet to master mind-reading, there’s a new sibling power-duo in town.

“Yep. Twenty-four, and promoted to Captain of the Celestia-damned Royal Guard. Think you’re scared now?” Shining Armor chuckled. “I had to wear my brown pants to work for a full year before I finally felt at ease with myself.”

“But… you were the right pony for the job,” Elusive frowned deeply, confused. “You are the right pony for the job. You’re a force of nature. Why would you even be afraid in the first place?”

“Well, so are you,” Shining Armor effortlessly sidestepped the question. “There’s a job to be done. One only you can do. So pull yourself together, soldier.  You’ve got a town to rule.”

Flattery always made himself feel more at ease. Yet, the sheer conviction in the Captain’s voice showed he really meant it. He had genuine faith in him, even when Elusive doubted himself. Shining Armour truly believed he was the pony for the job. Perhaps, if he told himself so every morning, he might even come to believe it one day. But for the meantime, the Captain’s vote of faith would do just nicely.

There was only one tiny problem, though. 

“I’m not a soldier,” he pointed out. “And I’ve yet to win any elections.”

Shining Armor blanked. “... Right. Sorry, got a bit carried away with the pep talk,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, no, it was a marvelous effort. I feel better already,” he snarked. “Truly, I take my hat off to you.”

“See, you sound sarcastic, but I don’t think you actually mean it,” the Captain replied, cheekily.

Elusive thought he should feel bothered at how easily the Captain had seen through him, but, well… Perhaps he wasn’t lying when he said he was an excellent judge of character.

“Perhaps,” the alabaster unicorn allowed, then closed his eyes, taking a moment, letting everything sink in. “Where do I sign up?”

And with those five words, the die was cast. There was no turning back now.

The campaigning season would begin shortly after Nightmare Night, with the elections taking place in early January. Which meant that Elusive had more than enough time to pull together his own campaign team and work his policy out.

Fortunately, ponies loved to air their grievances and desires while their measurements were being taken, so he already had a good idea of where the popular opinion stood. All it took was some pointed questions here and there, and they all spilled the beans. 

And if he threw a couple of thoughtful, insightful suggestions of his own, suddenly ponies turned to look at him with new eyes as they realised that Elusive was more than just a pretty face with a gift for fashion. It should annoy him, really, but the large amount of newfound respect he had garnered just by saying the right words at the right time was very promising for his electoral prospects.

So he had more than a few ideas flying around, just waiting for him to sit down and make policy pledges out of them.

But they would have to wait a couple more days.

Because right now he had a bunch of suits to finish.





To his great satisfaction, he had them finished before the week was done. It wasn’t easy, per se; the complications he had faced before had not disappeared overnight, but starting over with the designs and having a clearer mind had done wonders. Once he had managed to make a break-through, the rest was a walk in the park.

Yard by yard, never stressed, he sang internally as he put the final details on Butterscotch’s tie. And that’s the art of the dress~!

It was a very catchy tune, if he said so himself. In fact, he should totally write it down and pitch it to Warnherd Records. Tailor, politician, superhero and singer. My, aren’t you a talented one? He thought, a bit extremely pleased with himself.

And why wouldn’t he be pleased with himself? Elusive didn’t believe in false modesty. And he knew for a fact that no other tailor in Equestria would have managed to make suits just as impressive as the ones he had on display in front of him. 

He glanced at the clock.

A quarter past four.

And with time to spare, too! The rest of the gang should arrive by five o’clock, which gave him just enough time to indulge himself with a glass of fine wine, and prepare some sort of extra presentation, just for the sake of it.

At first, he thought of asking them to close their eyes shut and follow him, then realised that, most likely, they would end up walking into a wall or into each other. Then he thought of making them all hold the next pony’s tail so they wouldn’t wander off, before realising he was being silly and deciding to just put up a curtain.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have any kind of catwalk installed (because why would he?), so he decided to set up a small stand by the centre of the main saloon upon which he would place the suits and dress, covered by a rich purple fabric as a curtain. And, as the cherry on top, he would make the stand light up in a soft hue shifting smoothly and seamlessly through each of their coat colours every second. It wasn’t the fanciest presentation, for it wasn’t a presentation at all, but it would do just nicely.

Surprisingly, all five of them (plus Spike) had gathered outside of his door by the time the clock struck five.

“Hello, hello, friends,” Elusive greeted them, as he motioned for them to enter the Boutique. “You have no idea how pleased I am to see that you have all made it on time!” And he definitely didn’t glare daggers at Rainbow Blitz as he said so. The cyan pegasus frowned, then shook his head.

“You told us to be here by five, so here we are,” Twilight spoke for the rest of them as she made her way through the door. The mare was still wearing her bun hairdo (if one more haphazardly thrown together thanks to her own inexperience grooming herself), and indeed, looked properly marvellous with it.

“Yeah, who do ya think we are? Rainbow Blitz?” Applejack smiled sardonically.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” the pegasus complained, crossing his forehooves. “I can be punctual. I just don’t want to.”

“Yeah, that kind of makes it worse,” Spike snarked dryly.

“A legendary speedster is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to,” Phil recited, nodding his head sagely.

Butterscotch looked at Phil strangely.

“Trotkien?”

“Yep!”

“Well, not really Trotkien, no,” Twilight intervened. “That line was added by the movie adaptation. In the original books there is no such scene at all, actually.”

“Nerd,” Blitz fake-coughed, then started whistling inconspicuously once the mare turned to glare at him.

“So!” Phil intervened a bit too energetically, “Where are them dresses?”

There was a beat.

“Don’t you mean ‘su—’?”

“I don’t know what you mean I totally said suits shut up Butterscotch.”

The butter pegasus simply blinked in confusion.

“... Right.” Elusive suddenly remembered why he had come to the conclusion that having all six of them (plus Spike) at the same place at the same time drastically shortened his life expectancy. 

And it was not because of all the monsters they fought.

He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said as he closed the door, “I trust you can see the rather large curtain I put up in the middle of the room?”

Everypony but Phil nodded. The pink stallion, on the contrary, gasped, his eyes widening comically, as if he had only just noticed the curtain. Knowing him, that was very likely the case.

Elusive took a deep breath to prepare himself. “Well, my dears,” and he smirked, “allow me to introduce you to your Gala outfits!” he said theatrically, and with a magical pull, set the curtain aside.

To his satisfaction, they were all struck silent the moment they set their eyes upon the outfits on the stand.

Twilight’s and Applejack’s outfits weren’t all that different from his original sketches; he had added small embedded pearls on different parts of Twilight’s skirt, making up various constellations, as well as magical runes of protection and guidance onto her belt. 

Applejack’s, meanwhile, was all but identical to the sketch, though Elusive had added a small gilded pocket watch to the waistcoat, if only because he thought it made the stitching of the waistcoat pop out more.

When it came to the other suits, his breakthrough had come by repurposing some of his dress ideas.

Butterscotch’s long coat, of Selerish design, was a bright emerald, lined with golden nordic knots and floral patterns all the way down into the tailcoats. The double breasted waistcoat was a dull black, but it was lit up by golden floral motifs that danced under the light, just as the runes on his soft cerulean tie. Capping all that was an asymmetrical capet draped over his left wing, with a raven stitched in gold. All in all, he looked like a proper Nordic gentlecolt.

To differentiate Blitz’s pegasi elements from Butterscotch’s, Elusive chose to go with a Hayzantine style instead of a Nordic one. And so, he turned the buttons of his rainbow pinstripe waistcoat into tiny, gilded lighting bolts, and his blazer’s collar had a laurel wreath stitched into it, both of them a homage to Ancient Pegasopolis’ Heavenly Games, and therefore, reflecting Rainbow Blitz’s athletic nature. His blazer had a slim, dashing cut, and the cuffs were golden, as well, with the tie made of diagonal rainbow stripes; Elusive thought it was a bit garish, but if somepony could pull a rainbow tie off, it was Rainbow Blitz.

From the saloon-esque design for Phil, he had salvaged the blue and white stripes for his shirt’s sleeves, combining it with a yellow-and-pink pinstripe waistcoat. Phil’s pinstripe pattern, however, was unique, in the sense that it was carefully designed to look fashionably uneven, with the stripes becoming thicker or thinner depending on their position and the width of the next stripes. His morning coat, in the meantime, was a dark pink, with puffy white cuffs and light blue details. Instead of a tie, he had a light blue cravat.

And, last but not least, for himself, he had decided to go with a black shirt and pinstripe white double breasted waistcoat, with diamond buttons and a grey long coat with golden finishing. All in all, a sober yet refined look, not unlike the one he had hurriedly thrown together during the fashion make-over of over a month past. 

In the end, the unifying motif was not only the golden thread, but the fact that all six of their cutie marks were stitched by the golden threads onto each of their collars (or, in Twilight’s case, a small, slim dark headband). The outfits stood on their own, but when placed next to each other, it was perfectly clear they were part of a set.

Smirking, the alabaster unicorn concluded. “As you can see, I designed each outfit’s theme to perfectly reflect each pony’s unique personality. It wasn’t easy, my dears, but I believe that, in the end, and for lack of a better word, I nailed it. What do you think?”

All of them were silent, surely star-struck. Elusive allowed himself to savour their amazement.

Yet the silence only drew longer.

And longer.

And longer.

Elusive swallowed.

And longer still.

Just like that, this was officially the most awkward situation he had ever found himself in. And he had had his fair share of embarrasing one night stands, so that was really saying something.

“Wow,” Twilight eventually broke the silence with perhaps too much hesitation for Elusive’s good. “They’re…” she paused, blinking and pursing her lips, as if, for the first time in her life, she was at a lack for words.

“They sure are… somethin’,” Applejack quipped, rubbing his beard in thought. For some reason, he didn’t look precisely pleased. For that, Elusive was prepared, because he knew how much the stallion hated formal attire, but he had hoped that the unconventional, comfortable fabrics he had used were enough to endear this particular one to him.

For what he was most definitely not prepared was for the frown that appeared on Butterscotch’s face. “It’s… nice,” Butterscotch said.

Ah, fuck, Elusive muttered to himself in dismay as reality sunk in. They didn’t like them.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like them?” he gently prodded, even if he already knew the answer.

“I mean, they’re very nice,” Twilight began.

Applejack picked up her train of thought. “And we’re mighty grateful ‘cause ya busted yer flank on them,” he continued, Phil nodding furiously.

“Even if it’s not even half as cool as I expected,” Blitz concluded bluntly. Everypony turned to glare at him. The stallion shrugged. “What? He asked.”

Elusive rolled his eyes sharply. Give it to Rainbow Blitz to say what nopony wants to hear. “I see.” Still, he sighed, better to know that you failed than to be blissfully oblivious.

“Personally I think they’re pretty neat, but I’m not going to that snoozefest, so…” Spike shrugged as Phil wacked Blitz on the head. Elusive closed his eyes, grateful that at least he could count on the lil’ bro. Not that it made much (if any) of a difference, anyways. A tiny moral victory out of the decisive rout he had just endured, in a manner of speaking.

“It’s not that they’re bad, no, not at all! It’s just… Well… I guess what we want to say is that, uhm, they’re just not exactly what we had in mind,” Twilight concluded diplomatically. The other Bearers all nodded their various assents.

All his hard work for naught. Elusive took one last moment to shake off his deep disappointment, before letting out a sigh and opening his eyes.

“That’s okay. Perhaps I should have asked you what you wanted instead of flying blind. I thought I knew better about what you wanted than you yourselves did. It was quite arrogant of me, and for that I’m terribly sorry,” he conceded humbly. “Never fret, my dears. After all, there’s plenty more where that came from, and the Gala is still several months away. They were only a first draft. Not to worry, I’ll redo them, but this time, you will be the ones calling the shots. How does that sound?”

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to do that,” Butterscotch protested meekly. “They’re fine.”

“My dear, I don’t do ‘fine’. The Gala is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for us all. It’s a dream come true, and I want you to look and feel the part. I want you to think your outfits are absolutely perfect.”

“Are ya sure about that? Ya would have to start all over again and that looks like a lotta work,” Applejack said dubiously, eyeing the outfits appraisingly. “I mean, we wouldn’t wanna impose.”

“Applejack,” Elusive shook his head. “If I can’t make outfits that satisfy my closest friends and Rainbow Blitz, then what good of a tailor am I? No, my dear. This is now a matter of honour.”





“... and the stars on my dress need to be scientifically accurate. Orion has three stars on his belt, not four.”

Elusive frowned.

“Hmmm… What you’re asking is certainly…”

“Certainly…?” Twilight inquired, eyes wide and far too adorable to not be deliberate on her part.

Ugly as all hells.

“... unorthodox,” he said instead, but a couple of ideas were already coming to his mind. “But if somepony can make it work, it’s me.”





Butterscotch tilted his head to the side when Elusive cringed at his suggestion.

“Is something wrong?”

“Ah, it’s, ahm… a tad old fashioned, you see.”

“Oh. What’s wrong with old fashioned?”

“Wrong? Oh, my dear, no, there’s nothing wrong with it! Indeed, the Gala loves old fashioned!” They were aristocrats, after all. “It’s just that… Hmmm… You see, and I say this in the kindest way possible, if you show up dressed like this, you’re going to look like you belong in a costume party rather than a high culture event like the Grand Galloping Gala.” Elusive flinched as Butterscotch’s expression fell. “I see where you’re coming from, and trust me, I get it, but worst case scenario, you might even give the impression that you’re mocking the Nordics and their traditions.”

Elusive would swear until his last dying breath that the persuasive look on Butterscotch’s stare was as eldritch as the interdimensional tennant that dwelled in his cottage.





Blitz was unphased by Elusive’s caffeine-powered, sleep-deprived, soulless stare.

“What?” he eventually asked after seven full minutes of silence and staring.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what you want me to do to your suit?”

“Nah, the suit’s fine. It just needs to be cooler.”

“... Cooler.”

“Yep.”

“Define ‘cooler’.”

“Cooler.”

“Use it in a sentence.”

“Make it cooler.”

“What do you even mean by ‘cooler’?”

“I mean ‘cooler’.”

“Well, what kind of ‘cooler’?”

“Just ‘cooler’.”

“You’re really not being very helpful here.”

“Infuriating, isn’t it?” Blitz remarked acidly. He then rolled his eyes, and levelled a long, hard look at his suit on the mannequin. After almost an entire minute of silence, he opened his mouth and sentenced, face perfectly squared and emotionless:

“It needs to be about twenty percent cooler.”

Elusive blinked, then smacked his forehead with his hoof in amazement.

“Oh, wow. What a concept. How come I never thought of that before? It has to be twenty percent cooler! That really clears everything up! It’s so obvious! Gee, thank you so much, Rainbow Blitz! If it weren’t for you, I’d be completely lost!”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?”

“You know, I’m not sure if ‘friend’ is the word I’d use to describe you. I’m thinking more of something along the lines of ‘potential murder victim’.”

“Eh, I mean, for the six of us, they’re really the same thing when you think about it.”

“... Touché.”





“Well, any ideas?” Elusive asked Applejack, unable to keep the bemusement from his voice.

The farm stallion was pressed flat against the Boutique’s wall, utterly emasculated by the soft, fluffy ball of murder that was blissfully napping on the couch at the other end of the building.

“Can we, uh, take this stuff outside?” Applejack asked meekly.

Elusive rolled his eyes. “Applejack, relax. Opal isn’t going to attack you.”

“How are ya so sure?!” the stallion screamed in horror. Awoken by the noise, Opal raised her head, and hissed towards the orange stallion with utter contempt. Applejack yelped. “That monster wants me dead!”

“Applejack,” Elusive sighed tiredly, “if Opal wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

“And what the hay is that supposed to mean?!”

“That I’d have to worry about one less suit.”

Elusive paused.

“Actually, no, I’d have to make your mortuary one, considering you have been such a good friend you’ve earned a proper burial instead of throwing you into a shallow ditch on the outskirts of town like I intend to do with Rainbow Blitz’s corpse when I’m done with him. Sucks to be me, I guess.”

“YEAH, AH BET!”





“Don’t you think my gown would be more me with some lollipops?”

“... ‘Gown’?”

“Balloons?”

“Well…”

“Lollipops and balloons?”

“I don’t think…”

“DO IT!”





“In summary, the armscye seems tight, the middy collar doesn't go with the shawl lapel, the hems are clearly machine-stitched, the pleats are uneven, the fabric looks like toile, you used a backstitch here when it clearly called for a topstitch or maybe a traditional blanket stitch, the pearls you used as highlights are all over the place, and the overdesign is reminiscent of prêt-à-porter and not true Prench haute couture. Not to mention it looks like it was made for a mare, not a stallion. It’s almost like you’re just phoning it in, for Celestia’s sake.”

“That’s because it’s Twilight’s dress, Spike, not a suit. Those are over there.” Elusive sighed in exhaustion, so tired he couldn’t even be offended by the suggestion that he, Elusive of Ponyville, was phoning it in.

“Oh, and don’t even get me started on those!” And he proceeded to get started on those.

For his decaying sanity’s sake, the unicorn, with a heavy groan of agony, decided to cut the chase and turned to face the baby dragon, interrupting his tirade with a sharp, “What are you even doing here?”

“I came to ensure all your new attires for the Gala are just right,” Spike replied, with an obnoxious emphasis on the last two words and an accompanying claw gesture.

“... Why?” Elusive’s voice was drained of any life. “You’re not even going to the Gala.”

“I know! But I came to make sure you live up to your own high standards!”

“... So basically you’re just here to nitpick for the sake of it.”

“Yep!”

“Kindly get the hell out of my Boutique.”

Something exploded.

A cat screeched.

Silence.

“Uhm…” Sweetie Belle’s uncertain voice began. “Elusive…?”

“And take Sweetie Belle with you.”





“It’s… okay, Ah guess.”

“You guess.”

“Well, Ah mean, what do ya want me to say? Ah don’t know nothin’ about fancy schmancy suits!”

“Well, do you like it?”

“Uhm… Sorry, but no, not really, no. It’s just too fancy for mah taste.”

“It’s for the Gala.”

“And? Ah’m not wearin’ that ridiculous thing! Make it more, uhh, normal or somethin’!”

“Why do I even bother.”





“More balloons! Oh no, that’s too many balloons, I’m going to fly away on that, and that would spoil the party for everypony else if I’m the only pony flying! They would get so jealous! Except for the pegasi, duh, ‘cause they can fly too. Oooh, what if we just started our own Gala up in the air with blackjack and hookers? I would need an entirely different outfit then! And what would we even eat up there? Oh, oh oh! I’ve got it! More candy! No, no, less candy. That’s too little, a bit more! No, no no no no! You’re doing it all wrong! Like, more candy but not more candy!… Oh, wait, I know!”

“You… You do?” Elusive’s voice was brittle with soul-crushing desperation.

“Streamers!”

“... Streamers,” he deadpanned.

“Yippers!”

“... In your suit.”

“Well, where else would they be, silly?”

“Literally anywhere but your suit.”

“Pffffff, that’s no fun! I said back then that I was going to bring my very own party to this snoozefest, and where else to bring it but my suit? There’ll be a party in my jacket, a party in my tie, and you can bet your flank there’ll be a party in my pants, and you’re all invited!”

Elusive smashed his head against his desk.

“Maybe I should run away, change my name and start a new life in Bockhemia…” he muttered, feeling as his soul was slowly strangled to death.

“Just make sure to have my suit finished before you do~!”





“What? No no no no no! Alpha Corvi is not the brightest star of the constellation, it’s Gamma Corvi!”

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters! Not only Corvus will be entirely unrecognisable if it’s not right, but with the Princess herself there I will look ridiculous! She will be so disappointed in me if I’m not even capable of having my dress be scientifically accurate! Do you want me to disappoint the Princess? After all she’s done for me and for us and—!”

“Yes, okay, fine, I get it, I get it!” Elusive cried, wishing for oblivion. “Just please shut up!”





“Butterscotch, I swear to Celestia, if you’re going to ask me to make a companion suit for one of your animals, I cannot be held responsible for what I’m going to do to you.”

The pegasus lowered his head in despondence and left without saying a word.





“Why are the balloons every colour but fulvous? Fulvous is the absolute bestest colour for balloons, everypony knows that!”

“Phil, do you see that string over there?”

“Yep!”

“Do me a favour and strangle me with it.”

“Oh, Elusive, you silly filly. If I have to endure the existential dread and emotional sorrow of the Absurd, so do you! You’re not getting away that easily!” Phil winked happily.





“Elusive, yer mah buddy and everythin’, but Ah think ya gotta be thicker than Rainbow Blitz if ya think ‘more normal’ means… whatever the hay ya just made.”

“I’ll go get Opal.”

“Nice try, but Ah brought Winona with me this time,” the stallion smirked. Winona barked happily as Opal, knowing herself outmatched, shrunk away into the darkness.

Elusive shot Applejack a withering glare.

“I fucking hate you.”





“Not cool enough.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

“Get out of my Boutique before I make a suit out of your skin.”

“Heh, can you imagine? That would look so fucking metWAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT KNIFE NONONONONO I’M LEAVING I’M LEAVING I’M LEAVING OKAY GEEZ DUDE TAKE A CHILL PILL!”





“Hey, Elusive!”

“OH, JUST SLICE MY FUCKING THROAT AND BE DONE WITH IT!” Elusive shrieked, handing the newcomer his scissors and baring his neck.

Sweetie Belle blinked.

“... I was going to ask what we were going to eat for dinner,” she eventually said with a meek, scared voice.

“... Oh.”

There was a very awkward beat.

Elusive sighed. “Let’s go get some take-away.”

“Yay!”





“Okay.”

A beat.

“Okay.”

Another beat.

“Okay!”

The gathered Bearers on the Boutique glanced among themselves uneasily.

“Uhm… Elusive? You… you okay there, buddy?” Phil prodded carefully.

“Why, yes!” Elusive snapped, eyes wide and bloodshot, and a manic grin on his face. His mane was matted, limp and sticking at odd, unnatural angles, and his white coat had a sickly hue. The pink stallion flinched. “I’m okay! I’m fine! I’m perfectly okay!” Nothing he said did anything to calm his friends, who looked at him like he had gone utterly, batshit insane.

And you know what? Maybe he had!

“And you know WHY I’m fine?!” he bellowed, the twisted grin never leaving his face. His right eye twitched. Twilight and Applejack shared a worried glance. Butterscotch took a step back. Phil and Blitz looked away. “Because I’m done! I’m finally done!” he giggled. “Behold! Your outfits! Just as you wanted them!”

On cue, the curtains split, and everypony present but Elusive gasped.

Silence held for a second.

Then for another.

And another still.

Until finally, like a burst dam, they began talking all over each other in enthusiastic, giddy voices.

“Wow, this is amazing!”

“This is the best thing ever!”

“It’s just like I imagined it!”

“LOOK AT ME! I’M EDIBLE!”

“Ha! How about that? Superhero!”

Elusive couldn’t help himself, and began clapping to gather everypony’s attention.

“My dears, my dears! I’m delighted that you love your outfits!” Elusive positively purred. “It’s all I ever wanted! To make you happy! To see you smile!” His own smile, however, died on his lips, as a pensive frown appeared on his face. “Although, I do wonder…”

“What is it?”

“Well…” Elusive took a deep breath... and then his fragile mental state snapped with an audible crack. “You guys are aware this is for the Grand Galloping Gala and not FOR FUCKING NIGHTMARE NIGHT, RIGHT?!”

They all froze instantly in shock, sharing an awkward glance as a tense, uncomfortable silence began to take hold.

As always, Applejack took the lead when it came to facing the danger. “Well, yeah…”

“Okay. Okay! Okayokayokayokayokay,” Elusive conceded, but he had a crazed, dangerous look in his eyes. “Then please please please explain to me why the fuck did you ask me to include galoshes in your suit?!”

“Hey, they’re a legitimate piece of clothing!” Applejack huffed.

“FOR WHAT, APPLEJACK, FOR WHAT?!”

“So your hooves don’t get wet in the rain!”

“WHY THE FLYING FUCK WOULD IT BE RAINING AT THE GALA?! IT’S INDOORS, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” Elusive took a deep breath. “But you know what?! Galoshes are fine! They’re amazing! They're fucking fabulous! They’re certainly the most elegant piece of the absolute clusterfuck you asked me to make! I’d call it a potato sack, but holy shit, a potato sack looks like a fucking justaucorp in comparison!”

Elusive closed in on Applejack like a rabid dog. The farmstallion instinctively took a couple of steps back.

“What part of ‘Grand Galloping Gala’ you don’t understand, you thick motherfucker?! Princess Celestia is going to be there! Prince Artemis is going to be there! Kings and Emperors all across Equestria and beyond are in attendance! AND YOU WANT TO GO LIKE FUCKING DIOKÉNTRON?!”

Applejack blinked, utter incomprehension in his face.

“... Who?”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” Elusive snapped. “I’d call you a hobo, but a hobo at least has some decorum!”

“Dude, chill down!” The farm stallion raised his front hooves in appeasement. “It’s not that bad! It’s not like Ah’m plannin’ on rollin’ on a pigpen before the Gala or anything…”

“OH, THAT’S A FUCKING RELIEF, GEE, THANK YOU SO MUCH APPLEJACK! THAT CERTAINLY MAKES EVERYTHING BETTER! NOW THE GUARDS DEFINITELY AREN’T GOING TO THROW YOU OUT ON YOUR ASS THE MOMENT THEY SPOT A HOBO HARASSING THE KING OF PRANCE TO BUY SOME OF HIS CELESTIA FORSAKEN APPLES!”

Rainbow Blitz couldn’t help to snort a laugh at that.

“AND YOU!” Elusive wheeled on the rainbow pegasus, who bit off a yelp. “What’s up with that space pirate cowboy shit?! It looks like something straight out of a crappy B-movie! And don’t even get me started on the Spitfire patch! You should count yourself lucky if you make it through the night without her filing a sexual harassment suit against you! And you’re telling me you want to impress her?! Oh, she’ll be impressed alright!”

“... But, like, in the good way, right?”

“WE’RE TALKING ABOUT LEATHER WING COVERS WITH NEON LIGHTS, YOU DIPSHIT! A WALKING BUFFET WITH BALLOONS AND STREAMERS! A VIKING COSPLAY WITH A WOOLLEN BEARD! A HAG OF THE SWAMPS! OF COURSE NOT IN THE GOOD WAY, YOU SHIT FOR BRAINS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN THINK THE GRAND GALLOPING GALA IS ABOUT?!”

“Geez, Elusive,” Phil frowned. “You make it sound like it’s a violation to the laws of fashion or something!”

“BECAUSE IT IS!” The tailor wailed in heart-wrenching agony. “DON’T YOU GET IT?! ARE YOU ALL STUPID OR SOMETHING?! The Gala has the most strict code of dress in all of Equestria! I’ve spent the entire week trying to juggle both your outlandish desires and keeping it within the bare MINIMUM for us to be allowed into the Gala! That’s why I’ve made so many outfits, yet you’ve kept making me go worse and worse!”

He took a deep breath, then continued ranting, unabated. “I get that you didn’t like the original outfits, seriously, I do, and that’s entirely my fault, but HOLY SHIT if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re just fucking with me at this point! I can’t remember when was the last time I actually slept! You want your outfits now, but you don't even know what you want! AND YOU KNOW WHAT?! None of those outfits will get you through the FUCKING GATES! You’ll be thrown out on your asses! And all your high dreams for the Gala will go straight to nothing because you couldn’t bother to dress up for one fuck’s forsaken night!”

“Elusive, stop!” Twilight cried. “You’ve made your point!”

“Stop?! STOP?! OH, I’M JUST GETTING STARTED, MY DEAR! I’ve heard all of you yap on and on and on about what you want for the whole past week! But have you heard me say ANYTHING about what I WANT?! NO, OF COURSE YOU HAVEN’T! WHY WOULD YOU?! ‘Oh, it’s just Elusive, he’s a sissy bitch, who gives a shit about what he wants?’ You have NO IDEA, NO IDEA, how hard my job is! You think all of your stupid ideas come free of cost?! You think all the fabric and gems just pop out into existence?! Don’t you see that if I were charging you, you would be up your fucking eyes in debt?! Don’t you see that I’m up to my eyes in debt thanks to your bullshit?! Do you even care?! I give you my hoof in generosity and you take me by the fucking neck! Being taken advantage of by everypony in town is one thing! But being taken advantage of by my friends?! It’s out of the fucking pale! HAVE SOME FUCKING EMPATHY, FOR FUCK’S SAKE! But that’s too much to ask, ISN'T IT?!” He roared, panting heavily, his eyes moist. He opened his mouth once again...

Then, he closed it as he deflated with a heavy sigh. 

He couldn’t do this anymore. He just couldn’t.

“All I wanted... was to make something nice for you…” he finished with a trembling voice. “I see now. It’s my fault,” he shook his head.

“Elusive, no…” Twilight began weakly, but he didn’t allow her to go any further.

“It’s my fault that I thought you would appreciate my efforts. I should have known better,” he sniffed. “Yes. I should have known better.”

Applejack, horror written all over his face, gingerly walked up towards him. “Elusive…” he began, making to place his hoof on the unicorn’s shoulder.

“Leave me alone,” he snapped sharply, making Applejack flinch and pull back his arm as if he had been burnt. Elusive sighed, adding in a soft, sorrowful voice: “Please. I… I need to be alone for a while. Just… Just leave.”

Before anypony could make a move, though, the Boutique’s door was slammed open.

As one, they all turned to look at the newcomer.

Claw still on the doorknob, Spike was beaming. “Hey, you guys done?” he asked, obnoxiously cheerful.

Everypony looked down to their hooves in shame. Phil sniffed.

Elusive took one last, long suffering look at the abominations he had crafted.

“Yes,” he sighed, the sound of utter and complete soul-crushing defeat leaving him alongside every dream and hope he'd ever held, slowly closing his eyes. He sniffed. “Yes, I guess we are.”

“That’s great, ‘cause I managed to set up a personal meeting for you with Hoity Toity in like right now!”

Elusive’s eyes burst out of their sockets. “YOU DID WHAAAAAAAT?!” he screeched.

Before anyone could react, a bluish grey earth pony with a high-collared, burgundy cravat and large shades sauntered into the Boutique as if he owned the place and walked right towards Elusive.

“Ah, so you must be Herr Elusive von Ponyville,” the Austrotian fashion legend said appraisingly. “I’m very pleased to meet you. I’ve heard the most marvelous things about you.”

Elusive blinked blankly at him, the cogs in his brain failing to turn at all.

“Oh, but where are my manners,” Hoity Toity shook his head. “My name’s Hoity Toity. I’m a fashion designer myself. I presume you’ve heard of me?”

“YES!” Elusive blurted out in panic, brain suddenly rebooting. Hoity Toity tilted his head curiously. “You’re the most famous fashion designer in all of Equestria!”

The earth pony chuckled with false modesty. “Now, you’re flattering me, Herr von Ponyville.”

“W-What are you doing here in Ponyville?” Elusive’s heart rate was not going haywire. He was not feeling dizzy, nor nauseous. And if you claimed otherwise, he would sue you for defamation.

“Your representative here, Herr de Draco,” Hoity Toity gestured towards Spike, who was still beaming, immensely proud of himself and entirely unable to read the room, “wrote to me and told me all about you. And oh, did his words certainly pique my interest! Yet, when I asked around my numerous acquaintances, nopony seemed to have ever heard about you. Nopony but one. Care to guess who?”

Elusive only stared at Hoity Toity, face frozen in a rictus of pain and fear.

“Why, Princess Celestia herself!” Hoity Toity said, apparently oblivious to Elusive’s paralysed state, not to mention haggard and disheveled looks. “She told me you were just as good as Herr de Draco said and more! So naturally, I just had to come down to Ponyville and see for myself! If I may?” And, taking Elusive’s horrified silence as compliance, Hoity Toity walked towards the clothed mannequins deeper into the shop.

The ones clothed with…

The rest of the Elements shared a look of sheer horror and guilt among themselves.

Spike walked towards Elusive and gave him a friendly jab in the barrel. “Heh. Am I awesome or what?”

“Spike,” Elusive whispered in an eerie monotone.

“Yeah, bro?”

“You’re dead to me,” he sentenced. “And if I manage to make it through this without killing myself in shame, you will be dead to the rest of the world as well.”

“Oh,” Hoity Toity frowned.

The earth pony wandered between the mannequins, taking it all in. If the haughty way his nose was turned upwards was any indication, he wasn’t impressed. 

The other Bearers quietly slipped away through the open door. 

“Oh my,” he said again, as he walked towards Phil’s… something.

Elusive stood rooted to the spot, waiting for Hoity Toity’s damning verdict with all the hope and optimism of an innocent convict waiting their turn on the gallows. By his side, Spike fidgeted awkwardly, regretting all of his life choices.

This was Hoity Toity.

This was the most important stallion on Wiehern's fashion scene; nay, he was Wiehern's fashion scene. This was the stallion whose influence in the fashion scene reached far beyond the borders of Equestria, whose influence was beginning to be felt in the far reaches of the known world. This was the stallion whose boutique in Canterlot was one of the most profitable private ventures in the entire world. The stallion whose fashion shows attracted millions of ponies every year.  This was the stallion whose mere whims dictated the fate of many aspiring artists' careers.

And this stallion was, currently, attently observing Elusive's latest attempt at something that might resemble body coverings, hums and ohs his only companions.

And he did not seem exactly pleased.

At long last, Hoity Toity turned back to Elusive and walked up to him, a neutral look in his face. 

“Herr von Ponyville,” Hoity Toity began, voice inscrutable, “after seeing the... outfits,” he said with an honest-to-Celestia shudder, “you have placed on display, I must say…”





“This is our fault,” Twilight breathed out, guilty tears welling in her eyes. Phil was already crying, as Applejack rubbed his back, while Butterscotch only stared into the ground. “This is all our fault.”

“We’ve just destroyed Elusive’s entire career,” Rainbow Blitz shook his head in disbelief. “What the hell kind of friends are we?”

“What do we do now?” Applejack wondered aloud, rubbing circles on the back of the crying wreck that Phil had turned into.

Butterscotch fidgeted. “Should we… should we panic?”

“What good is panickin’ going to do?” Applejack shook his head in denial. “We need to make it up to him. But how?”

“Can we even make it up to him at all?” Twilight countered, weakly, running her hooves through her hair frantically as she racked her brains for a solution. Yet, for the first time in her life, none was forthcoming. “We screwed up. Oh, Celestia, we screwed up…”

“He’s never going to want to see us again,” Blitz stated flatly. Phil moaned. “And I can’t say I blame him. I know I wouldn’t if you did something like that to me.”

The others shot him a bemused glare. Even Phil stopped crying his eyes out to shoot him a dirty look.

“Ya couldn’t not make it about yerself for just five darn minutes, could ya?”

“It’s not like that,” Blitz protested weakly. “What I mean is that... I get it.” He laughed mirthlessly upon gazing on their skeptical expressions. “Yeah, I know how weird it sounds. Rainbow Blitz? Having empathy? Pull the other one.”

“You do make your fame out of being a jerk,” Butterscotch pointed out softly, without any malice. Rainbow Blitz nodded heavily, conceding the pegasus’ point.

“I know. It’s just… Well, the thing is, out of the six of us, Elusive and I have the weakest careers. I mean, one small fuck up can kill it, and kill it dead, just like that. And all the stuff he said…” Phil let out a sob. “I get where he’s coming from. I get it because it’s like if you guys kept asking me to do wilder and wilder tricks until I crashed down, broke my wings for good and couldn’t fly anymore. You just asked for what you thought was cool, I tried to please you even if I knew better, and now my career is dead before it even started. And we just did that to him. I did that to him. I thought he was exaggerating, but..." He sighed. “I get it now. And man, does it feel like absolute fucking shit,” he spat.

And so they stood by the Boutique’s courtyard, wracked by guilt and horror as their friend’s hopes and dreams came to an abrupt end. One they had a major hoof in bringing about.

After what it seemed like hours, Hoity Toity finally walked out through the Boutique’s door, looking supremely pleased with himself. Shortly afterwards, Elusive followed, unstable on his hooves, and his eyes wide and unblinking, mouth slightly agape.

The rest of the Bearers swarmed Elusive as soon as Hoity Toity was out of sight, talking over each other frantically.

“Elusive! We’re so, so sorry!”

“Are you okay, man? You want me to kick Spike’s ass?”

“Do you want me to throw you a cheer-up party?”

“We didn’t think it would come to this!”

“Hoity Toity’s?”

"We never should have taken you for granted, Elusive. It will never happen again, we promise."

“I could also throw you a ‘wallowing in self-pity’ party! Just say the word! I’m all yours! Just don't hate us, please!”

“We had no idea this could happen!”

“Our own?”

“Ah’m sorry. So, so, so sorry, man…”

“All of them?”

“Please, let us make it up to you! We can call him back! Show him your good stuff!”

“None of them? Just speak to us, man.”

Butterscotch was the first to notice Elusive had yet to so much as blink. “Elusive? Are you… are you okay?”

Slowly, Elusive turned to look at them without seeing, his eyes unfocused and vacant. He didn’t seem to process their words at all.

“... I’m going to Wiehern.”