.
I am happily bouncing up the flight of stairs, still affording the framed images of past parties on my way up to my room. After a very late night party; I feel spent, yet excited; with a tightly curled up mane and ears eagerly and pronounced perked up ears as a signal of how I was feeling.
Slowly opening the door to my room and quietly closing it after me in order not to wake any Pony up: I don’t need to announce my arrival by disrupting the sleep of the Cakes’, knowing full well just how early they are going up tomorrow, and the twins are way too young to wake up at this late hour.
.
As I enter my room, I afforded the blue and yellow balloons in the ceiling a cursory glance; while paying close attention to the pink balloons now swarming the floor, at the late hour.
Sending a few glances left and right, scanning the empty room; no pony is here, just the items I left here before the party. I had not expected any Pony to be here and wait for me, not this late.
Folding the quilt up against the wall, before I quietly slump down on my bed and fold the quilt back over myself. I lie on the bed, quietly; pondering the day, and the latest party I had just enjoyed. It had been a blast and yet another roaring success, just as expected; compliment of just how intimately I know my friends of Ponyville, aside from the lingering recollection of events like when Twilight Sparkle’s failed attempt to perform a spell that was later to ascend her to princesshood, and turned her into an Alicorn. When I finally had returned to town; and fully back to myself, the Ponies had been furious as if Discord himself had been paying them a visit while I was at the Apples’ farm at the Sweet Apple Acres.
.
As I fell asleep, my mane is still as tightly curled up as it had been as I left the party. The quiet room, promising a restful sleep. Only this night, it wouldn’t last quite as long as I would have expected. Slowly I had been drifting out of sleep, finding myself back in my bed.
.
I had been wide awake, for a short while; that was starting to feel like forever. No point in turning around, in the hope of turning in.
As I open my eyes; the room is pitch black, with just the white halo of Luna’s moon, in the middle of the floor. I fold up my quilt, knowing there is no turning back.
Turning to the right and slipping by hooves right out of bed; before carefully slipping down onto the floor and standing to my full height, with panicking pink balloons scurrying madly right and left, screaming.
As I saw the balloons calm down and slip back in under my bed, where they could find safety; I could step out onto the floor; under the blue and yellow balloons flooding the ceiling, and reflecting the few rays of light in the room; this way and that.
With precious little time, I step into a tight short skirt; before pulling the matching top down over my head and pulling my hooves through the short black leather jacket.
From here I slip my hooves into a pair of shiny red boots; while picking up what appears to be a common suit case a businesswoman may carry to work, containing all her important, precious documents.
.
With the boots on, a drastic shift to my features came over me; I now look like that woman, not just as if I had been wearing her suit.
My mane still is pink and straight, hanging down over my shoulders; and my eyes still are the same innocent blue, while my skin is a somewhat light pink.
Rarity and Twilight Sparkle had both helped me in creating this guise for me; for when I had an urge to see the other side of someday, living among humans as they are, where they live.
I now wear a shiny, black vinyl skirt and matching top with the leather jacket over. I had specifically chosen this jacket to go with the suitcase, as silly as that may seem in the eyes of some people.
My general built is that of Twilight Sparkle, as she visited her friends at Canterlot High. Only I have longer, semi square manicured nails; I chose shiny, more to reflect my personality, than being practical or authentic. I guess I made that a bit of a pun, right there; but that is also me.
.
With the suit case in my left hand; I spread my fingers wide as I push forwards and probe the air before me, feeling the fabric; before pushing through and thus opening a rift to where I had intended to go.
There are a few legal documents and other documentations of the products I am showcasing, with intent to offer sales to any and all who show a genuine interest in the products I have available. Naturally, I do have a catalog available; in case any of them would like to see the full range of the products I could present to them.
The majority of the space in my suitcase, is taken up by the products themselves. Most of what I have to offer comes in tubes, vials, bottles or cans, all packaged neatly in innocent, noncommittal white to light beige cardboard boxes. These boxes are mainly for my convenience, they are easy to stack; while they are convenient on the people who choose to accept my offers.
.
I had appeared in an area with small cottages or villas, from what I could see. I had chosen this area, due to the light population.
After but a short walk taking me just over a minute, I approached the first house on my list; the home of two girls I predicted to be very interested in what I had to offer. Their respective profiles placed them on the top of my list, of excited and excitable individuals; to tempt with my products.
I walk up to the door with a measured gait, stepping up the short flight of stairs to the outer door; where I waited momentarily, before promptly giving the door a serene, measured knock. Just once, twice and thrice.
.
“Hiya, and welcome in!” the girl exclaimed.
“Hiya, I am Diane Pie; and thanks for inviting me in!” I offered openly, as I entered the hall and closed the door after myself.
“Could I by any chance tempt you with a cup of tea?” the girl continued, as she is leading me towards the kitchen.
“Yes, please; that would be quite nice!” I responded, as I followed her into the kitchen where her friend is sitting.
“Diane Pie, this is my sister Qharmen Harmz; Qharmen Harmz, this is Diane Pie!” she introduced her sister.
“Hiya, Qharmen, nice to meet you!” I responded.
“Hiya, Diane. Is it acceptable, if I call you by your first name, Diane?” her sister inquired.
“By all means, please do; all my friends already does that!” I explained openly, smiling at her.
.
I had just sat down, while the older sister placed a cup before me; in which she soon poured boiling water over the gathered tea leaves.
“I was just worried, some people are a bit old fashioned; and do not take too kindly to be addressed by their first names, by anyone they do not know!” Qharmen expressed.
“I have heard of that tradition, but your sister just introduced us. Shouldn’t that be enough?” I inquired.
“To me, that is; but I don’t like the old fashions all that much. Too strict and restrictive to me!” she responded.
“Sounds about right to me!” I prompted, cheerfully with a wide grin.
"Then you prefer the friendly, and informal? Something I can agree with wholeheartedly!" I pressed on.
“Strict and formal isn’t very friendly; at least, it doesn’t feel like it to me!” Qharmen expressed with a firm nod, as a grin slowly started to spread out over her face.
“If you like friendly, I guess I did get the right address; besides, sharing a cup of tea is always enjoyable!” I put forth.
“Can you ever have too many friends? Sharing a cup of tea, something my granny taught me!” the elder sister explained.
“Too many friends? You are not joking right. Of course, you can’t. Sounds as you have a wise Granny too!” I prompted seriously.
.
”Speaking of friendly, I do have a few items I would love to give the two of you as a small token of my friendship!” Diane expressed.
“That does sound friendly to me, I have a weakness for gifts too!” I responded.
“Not everyone does love gifts; but I did have the impression, you would be one to appreciate it!” she responded.
“I may not have a gift readily prepared, but I guess it is the guest who offers gifts; while it is the host that offers all the entertainment, such as food and snacks. We do have these, so if you have the gift; I guess that would make us even, on the trading department?” I suggested.
“Much more fun to stay, where you are welcome; I can’t feel overly welcome, if my belly is empty to void!” she responded, with a giggle.
“I know that feeling only too well. You can’t be counted upon; to be your happy self or anything, when you are hungry!” I responded.
.
Diane reached a hand into her suitcase; from which she withdrew a nail polish, a lip gloss, a set body lotions and what seems to be some kind of a lubricant, aside from a small package of curious looking accessories.
“I hope you will enjoy these!” Diane expressed, as she had lined up the items on our table.
“From what I can see, I am sure I will. My sister may be thrilled; if they are, what I think they are!” I prompted, looking over the small pile of gifts she had lined up on the table.
“A new nail polish? I had just been looking for that, but never quite found the one that goes with my nails!” my sister exclaimed.
“Maybe I could double the gift, by helping you apply it now?” Diane offered.
“Thanks, it never is the same to paint your own nails, you know!” she responded; as her face lit up like a sun, her eyes beaming with joy.
“Guess I do have a knack for predicting things like this!” Diane pondered; with a wide grin all over her face, in reaction to my sister’s joy.
Of course, there is a small image of a semi square inch long nail on the vial; depicting the crystal clear nail, with a high gloss and glistering lacquer on. Even if I had expected this to be a mere image to demonstrate the type of lacquer, more than anything else. How wrong I was, but I’m not about to complain; I still do like the effect it has on the individual nails.
“That is why the salons and SPAs still are in business; because we prefer the service, and the difference it makes to us!” Diane explained, with a sly wink.
“I guess that does make sense. Most of us, just like me; sucks at manicure, and any such handiwork!” she responded with a giggle to her voice.
“One major problem to apply your own lacquer, is that you have a left hand; when you are right handed, and a right hand if you are left handed. That is no problem, when someone else is extending the treat!” Diane explained.
.
“If you place your hands flat on the table, palms down and your fingers spread out comfortably?” Diane instructed her.
“Sure, that is easy enough!” she responded, following the instructions.
Diane examined her fingers and nails, as she uncapped the vial of clear gel lacquer. Then she picked up her right hand in her left, while holding on to the cap with the inserted brush; before she started.
I could see how she started from the center, and the root of the thumb nail and drew the brush all the way down over the tip; then repeated the stroke, right and left, right and left. Now she apparently painted under the nail in the same manner, before lining the right and left edge of the nail; before finishing by sealing the nail in as she lined the tip. From there, she continued and repeated the process, nail by nail.
Naturally, she placed the hand on the table; before she picked up her left hand and repeated he entire process all over again. Once finished, she placed the left hand on the table; beside the right hand.
“Oooh!” my sister cooed, as she was looking ecstatically at her fairly short nails.
Of course; her nails still glister as if covered in a fairly thick layer of liquid, the wet-look effect overly obvious. Only the effect never mated down; as it use to, as the polish is drying up. The effect of mating lacquer is a matter of degrees, from barely noticeable to completely mate; once the polish had dried up.
“You have to try this, Sis!” she then exclaimed.
“I think your nails have cured completely by now!” Diane pointed out, after about a minute from applying the lacquer to the last of her nails.
“Since you said it, Sis. Would you mind extending the treat to me, too?” I responded, hopefully.
“If you enjoy the treat, Qharmen; then I will love to help you right now!” Diane expressed vehemently.
“Then I will graciously accept the treat, while you still are here!” I responded; placing my hands on the table before me, just as my sister had a moment before.
The next few minutes, I enjoyed looking at how our new guest and friend applied the treat she had just extended to my sister, as she was extending it to me too.
.
“Am I imagining it; or has my nails grown a millimeter, since you applied the lacquer?” my sister inquired with a mix of anxiety and excitement.
“I can’t say that it is an entire millimeter, but I guess it does look longer than it did before I applied the lacquer to your nails. Some of which is certainly the lacquer, I applied to the edge of your nails. Not to say that they looked bad before; but I guess the lacquer does compliment your nails and hands, the way it came out!” Diane responded.
“No mere polish could save bad looking nails; no matter how exclusive, expensive, or glorious the lacquer may have been, Sis!” I pronounced with finality.
“Yeah, that does make sense, Sis!” she responded.
If it is thanks to the quality of the lacquer Diane gave us, or if it is a compliment to her handiwork; but the lacquer is covering exactly the entire nail on all sides and nothing but exactly the entire nail, which in and of itself is no mean feat, from what I could say. She had even managed to repeat this on not just my sisters ten nails, but also my very own nails as well. I can only imagine she is good at what she is doing, and that she enjoys doing it; when she saw how my sister brightened up, just by the mere look of the gift.
.
“Is it too much to ask, if I asked you to help me and my sister with the make-up; while you are here, Diane?” I inquired.
“Sure thing; I just need you to smile at me, while I am applying the make-up for you!” she explained.
“I certainly can do that, considering how good you are at this; I am enjoying the gift immensely!” I responded; beaming at her with joy, and a little bit of anticipation as well.
“Here we go!” she put forth, as she uncapped the lip gloss and slowly applied it to my lips; from the right to the left on the upper lip and back on the lower lip.
“Your turn!” Diane exclaimed, indicating for my elder sister to take my place before her.
“Thanks, you certainly do brighten up the day, and put a bright smile on my face!” she responded, beaming her brightest smile at Diane.
“Am I imagining it all, but it looks as if your hair is curling up tighter?” I inquired.
“If you put it like that, I guess it is because I enjoy seeing you smile!” Diane explained; matter of fact, while her smile remained just as bright as before.
Of course, this is one part of herself she could not expect to hide from anyone, or any Pony for any length of time. Not if she has happy people, or Ponies around. She guesses she had known it, even before she went out on her little mission of spreading joy to people.
“Excuse me, I will be back in a minute or two!” I put forth, leaving the table for a moment.
I walked out to the girls’ room, where we have a mirror. Once I had turned the light up and closed the door, I turned to examine my face. Of course, everything is exactly where I had expected it. Just that my lips glister in the light, almost like my nails.
In a moment; I tentatively bit down on a single nail, but to no avail, there isn’t even as much as a mark. I could see the otherwise natural looking nail, even though I guess it is much too shiny to feel as a natural nail; it is also too even, even if it isn’t different from before.
I put the tip of my right index finger on my lower lip, only to feel the smooth and rubbery surface of my now highly elastic lip; but with the added effect that my lips instinctively and instantaneously contracted on contact.
As I push the finger just slightly forwards, I have the notion of my lips being wet; while there is the impossible notion of my lips making a contraction as if, but that is entirely impossible. I should have been screaming in panic, but it all felt too good.
.
Naturally, I could not wash my face, or come back with wet cheeks, so I simply returned to the table where they are still siting, even if I imagine my cheeks should be red like stop signs right now.