Very loopy

by Sollace

Interlude 1: Where's Sweetie?

Author's Note:

Special reminder for SPOILERS

This story takes place in the same universe as the much darker A Little Loopy. Up until now I haven't really progress along that story's lines. Heck, I haven't really progressed along any lines. I don't even remember what loop this is and it's the same one this story started on.

I guess what I'm trying to say is to watch out for spoilers from this point on. If you want to read the original fic (link in the description) you're highly encourage to do so before continuing. if not, welp, enjoy the ride!

-- SollAI

Edit: Special reminder to myself to put these at the top of the page.

Rarity flitted across the workroom floor of her boutique, dancing to the tune of her own work. Sewing machines sang in the background of their own accord and tapestries, needles, and thread danced around her form, each with their own task.

The scent of rose petals and jasmine added their own allure to the scene, only heightening Rarity’s enraptured focus as she hummed tittered below her breath. “My-my, Senioré Brandevyne, you’re absolutely going to adore this new gown,” she sung, casting an eye over the steady built shoulders of her ponyquin.

The clothes horse responded in kind—no movement at all—which caused Rarity a bout of giggle. She fluttered her eyes, her cheeks tinted red as she shied away from the mannequin hunk. “You charmer”—she slapped with a playful hoof—“You always know what to say to make a mare blush...”

“Oh my, Rarity,” somepony said.

Rarity’s ears pricked, her eyelid twitched, and she spun back, a single strand of mane springing free from the back of her head as she glanced to the far side of the room.

There, standing on its lonesome at the edge of the fashion stage, a single bag of flour seemed to move of its own accord. “My dear,” it said, in a distinctly Prench accent. Possibly a late-ish post-modern interpretation of such, Rarity could presume. It was terrible none-the-less “Honey, you seem to be speaking to yourself again.”

“Oh no!” Rarity shook her head vehemently. She turned back to her work and picked up a measuring tape to wrap around the hem of Senoré Brandevyne’s flank. “This happens all the time, darling. Any time I get too worked up with my work, I tend to get a little...” Her eyes went distant for a moment, turning wall-eyed before she snapped back to the present. She straightened her sewing glasses with a cough. “Not to worry. I’m perfectly under control, miss, um...”

“Madam Lé Fleur.” The sack of flour flopped over, spilling some of its contents off the edge of the table.

“Lé Fleur?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. She left the tape to continue its work, her attention turned fully back to the inanimate object. “Aren’t you supposed to be one of Pinkie’s friends?”

“Zee—” The bag responded. It seemed to deflate at this, sinking even further over the edge of the table. A steady stream of flour trickled from the open end as it spoke. “It is a sad day, indeed, for myself and Pinkie—how you say? We have had a disagreement.”

“Oh, my—” Rarity gasped. “I’m so sorry. What did she do?”

“She has done the unjust.” Lé Fleur sighed. “Pinkie Pie has made se Cupcakes, out of me and by brethren.”

“Oh, that’s absolutely—”

TAP TAP TAP

A soft rapping on the door sounded through the boutique, causing Rarity to flinch. Seemingly snapped out of her trance, she glanced around herself before settling on the front door. A soft knocking of a hoof repeated form outside and Rarity paused. Her ears flicked and she scrunched her nose. “Ahem,” she coughed, smoothing out her mane and resuming her work. “Darling, come in!”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Again the door rattled and again Rarity called, this time raising her voice a tad. “I said come in!

SLAM SLAM SLAM

The door shook on its hinges, dust flying loose as hooves battered frantically against the outside frame. “Ugh!” With a sigh, Rarity threw down her tools, heaving as she push past the piles of clothes, trudging, storming to the front door—and bearing with one last deafening knock and what she could only suppose was the sound of splintering wood she flung the door open.

A hoof swung past her face, grazing her chin and followed quickly in kind by a second. She'd just had the mind to dodge them and immediately ducked when a second pair came in for a second round of beatings. “Wha—” she gasped, then shouted, “Twilight, stop, what are you—!?”

“Rarity!” Twilight screamed at the top of her lungs, forcing Rarity to recoil away clutching her hooves to her ears. She continued forwards, leaning through the doorway to bring them closer, and filling the inside of the boutique with her battering-ram of a voice. “Oh thank Celestia you’re home!”

“Twilight,” Rarity shouted back, “Why are you shouting!?”

Twilight shook her head, and then rubbed her ear. “Sorry, Rarity, I don’t have time for small-talk,” she screamed. “I can take a shower later!” She pushed further into the boutique, levitating a white cat—or mostly white—what with the layers of shredded paper and spilled back ink marking her fur.

Rarity almost didn’t recognise her pet. “Opal!?” she gasped. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in days?”

“No, no,” Twilight shook her head. “This is Opal. I found her shredding through the restricted section of my library. She burst my eardrums!”

Rarity took one more step back, rubbing her forehead. As the ringing subsided, Twilight’s screams slowly began to take hold. “What? How? How on earth did she get there?”

“I don’t know how she got there!” Twilight—rather unintentionally—answered, before turning her attention to digging through her saddlebags. She produced a parchment in her muzzle and a quill from the side flap—both she promptly pushed into Rarity’s hooves. “Please, I don’t have time to take care of the bills by myself, but—” She cocked her head, giving Rarity a glare. Leaning forwards, she brought their muzzles almost together, and shouted. “Wasn’t somepony supposed to be watching Opal this week!?”

Rarity stumbled back, pushing Twilight’s face away from hers. She levitated a pair of ear muffs out from the back of the boutique and secured them safely over her paining ears. “Y-Yes—“ she nodded, hesitant for her already ravaged eardrums.

When Twilight remained silent, she continued, slightly less shaky but still apprehensive. “S-Sweetie Belle was supposed to be—“

“Where is Sweetie Belle!?” Twilight screamed. Somehow the earmuff only made her seem louder, and Rarity almost fell back over her own hooves. The only thing stopping her from actually doing so was the fact that she had four hooves, and hence a lot to stand on.

“The Princesses took her.”

“They WHAT!?” Opal and Twilight suddenly shouted, their unison broken only when the latter keeled over unconscious. Opal lunged forwards, leaping out of Twilight’s failing grasp, and latched onto Rarity by the cheeks. “Where did the princesses take her!?”

“Opal, you can talk!?” Rarity jumped, this time actually falling over. The four hooves didn’t help this, not in the slightest, as the two tumbled back onto the floor, Opal still latched onto her face, and now digging claws into Rarity’s shocked, paler than usual, face.

“We live in a magical land surrounded by talking multicoloured Unicorns and Manticores and you’re surprised by this?”

“... I supposed you do have a point.”

“Of course I do. Now”—Opal inched his claws further into the edges of Rarity’s cheeks, drawing out a pained yelp from her owned. “Where did they bucking take here?”

“Mmf!” Rarity hummed beneath the cat’s fur and she immediately began wrestling to pull Opal away from her face. “Mmmhfmfmf!” She pushed herself back into a sitting position and, with the help of her magic, pried the cat away from her mouth, gulping down breaths of fresh air. “Opal!” she gasped, glaring down furiously at the—apparently now talking—feline. “L-language!”

Opal huffed. She crossed her forepaws and turned up her nose. “Hmmf.” Her tail flicked angrily in response to being dangled like a rag doll. “I want you to tell me, or...” she grumbled something under her breath.

Rarity eyed Opal carefully, drawing her gaze over every inch of the feline in search for anything wrong.

So far, nothing.

Though dirty, Opal’s fur was just as well kept as always, and judging by the bleeding claw marks etched into her face, she seemed no less affectionate than normal. Possibly more so, come to think of it. There was absolutely no attempt to gouge out her eyes despite them being well within her reach.

That only left one conclusion.

Rarity hopped to her hooves, humming in her usual cheerful tone. “Come on, Opal, I know exactly what a grumpy like yourself cat needs!”

“For you to answer my questions and shut up?”

“Food!” Rarity cheered, much to Opal’s disappointment.

The cat recoiled in revulsion. “What!?” she screamed, and immediately started to struggle in vain against Rarity’s magic. “That’s not what I mean—”

“Now, now~” Rarity cooed, her tone calming as she dragged Opal, thrashing and clawing, through the air behind her. They both circled through the piles of unfinished clothes. Opal left a long, dragging and tattered scrape over Senioré Brandevyne as they passed, Rarity grunting with effort on every inch. “Don’t be shy. I know you only like those Admiral Biscuits but until Sweetie gets back from her trip to Canterlot I’m in charge and I don’t want you getting high cholesterol.”

“Nooo!” Opal cried. She pulled and clawed, getting into the vague shape of running position as she was pulled backwards. “You’re going to pay for this, Rarity B—” She stopped cold. A sly grin spread across her face and Opal assumed the position—paws pressed together and evil smirk as she steepled her claws. “Canterlot... you say?”

Comments

[Silvernighter]

It's been a while, huh. Good to see new stuff though.
Can anyone remind me of what's with Opal or is that new? Can't remember and am too lazy to reread right now.

[the other sans]

added their own allure the scene
steady built shoulder’s of her ponyquin
which caused Rarity a bought of giggle
single bag of flower seemed to move of its own
The sack of flow flopped over
A steady stream of flower trickled from the open end as it spoke
I haven’t seen you in days?
their unison broken only when the later keeled over unconscious

1. Added their own allure to the scene.
2. Shoulders.
3. Bout.
4. Flour.
5. Flour.
6. Flour.
7. Meant to be a full stop.
8. Latter.

9044164
Spoilers ahead for original if you don't want to know.
Opal is Starswirl the Bearded, in a way to achieve immortality.

[Silvernighter]

9044260
Thanks. I remember now.

[Sollace]

9044260
All fixed, thanks!

7. Meant to be a full stop.

It's meant to be an implicit question. She's asking a question with a statement! How uncouth!

[Cursed Quill]

opal

Capitalize.

[Sollace]

9121375
Fixed! Thanks.