Weak stitches...
The door opened and Rarity shuffled inside the apartment. Coco was sleeping still, and Rarity didn’t want to wake her. Manehatten’s nightlife was a terrifying whirlwind of activity, and although Rarity was here on business, that business demanded that she be out and social at difficult times of day. There were business ponies she had to impress, and other fashion icons she had to get to know. The latest and the greatest in the business demanded her attention, and she gave it, even when it kept her out late into the night.
Rarity stumbled into the room, head spinning from the amount of drinks she’d had, and flopped onto the couch. The Manehatten nightlife was very different from Canterlot, and both were much more intense than Ponyville. Ponyville nightlife was maybe a festival a few times a year. Canterlot’s was upscale and snooty. Manehatten was — for lack of a better term — raucous.
There were nightclubs, and discos, and all sorts of different venues, and the theme in all of them seemed to be LOUD, PROUD, and a CROWD. There also seemed to be an intense desire to remodel the past. To bring it back, and up to date. They were wearing things from several decades ago and mixing it with modern clothes to try to stand out. It worked, but it was very unusual to her sensibilities.
But, if that was what ponies wanted, Rarity would provide, and going out this late was the best way to figure that out. Find where the ponies go when they want to be themselves, and you’ll find the clothes they want to wear. She’d found them, but now it was a matter of letting them know she had what they were looking for. Manehatten couldn’t be Canterlot, and vice versa. Each location must provide unique style that fit the city in which it was located.
Rarity closed her eyes, and was out soon afterward.
When she awoke, she pulled herself up to a sitting position and saw a glass of water on the coffee table next to her, along with a plate of cold pancakes. Coco had gotten up at a reasonable hour and gone to the boutique, as expected, leaving Rarity alone in her apartment. She was a very gracious host, and understood Rarity’s desire to understand her clientele, but Rarity couldn’t help but feel like she resented her somewhat.
Coco was a very talented seamstress, and her work was impeccable and stylish, but Coco was the salespony at the manehatten boutique while Rarity had three successful shops located across Equestria. Rarity got to schmooze with the upper class and important names in the business, while Coco had to mind the shop. Not to mention Rarity was a unicorn and Coco an earth pony. Rarity could design a dress and put it together within minutes, while Coco had to work directly with her hooves, taking her time with each design. It was, unfortunately, a large difference. The quality of their work was on par with each other, but Rarity, by dint of being a unicorn, was simply faster at it.
Rarity picked up the glass of water and chugged it, then lifted the cold pancakes and chewed on them. They were good, but cold. No fault of Coco’s, though. Rarity’s head throbbed, and she got another glass of water before heading into the shower to freshen up before another big day of visiting with the who’s who of Manehatten.
She washed her mane and tail, then scrubbed the smell of cigarettes and odd perfume out of her coat. She styled her mane with care, making sure her signature curls were still prominent, then put on new false eyelashes to bring attention to her beautiful blue eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror, adding a few final touches, then nodded, satisfied.
Rarity locked Coco’s apartment behind her and walked out into the city proper. She walked through the streets toward the boutique, first and foremost. She wanted to thank Coco and speak with her about some of the designs she’d seen and ones she’d come up with from last night. Coco had a wonderful eye for fashion and her feedback was important to Rarity, just as Sassy Saddles’ feedback was in Canterlot. They were ponies of their cities, and Rarity wasn’t about waste such a valuable resource.
Rarity swung open the door and greeted Coco with a smile. “Coco! Thank you ever so much for the breakfast you absolute dear. How is business this morning?”
“Oh, Good morning Rarity, though it’s nearly noon.” Coco was helping a customer try on a dress, and turned back to the customer after saying hello. “So, we can pull in the dress here, and it will help you show off your natural shape much more. It will also prevent the dress from shifting too much while you walk.”
“That sounds perfect. I will trust your judgment. It does feel too loose at the moment,” the pony said.
Coco helped the pony take off the dress and took it away to her workstation. “It will only take me a few minutes, then we can have you on your way. Feel free to look around while I work, see if there’s anything else you might like to try on.”
Rarity did not interject or interrupt Coco while she worked. She trusted her well enough with the customers, and sales were high. There were other ponies in the shop, but they looked like they were browsing, and Rarity thought it best if she left them be for now. She had other plans anyway. Rarity was going to go meet one of the ponies from last night to see about coming to an agreement on a fashion show in Manehatten.
“Have you got everything here for now, Coco?” Rarity asked.
“Mmhmm.” Coco had her mouth full of needle, thread, and pins, but she nodded in affirmation.
“Excellent. I’ll be back at a much more reasonable hour tonight. See you this evening, Coco,” Rarity said.
Coco just nodded, and Rarity took her leave. She grabbed one of her hats next to the door and stepped outside. The air in Manehatten wasn’t what she would call fresh, but it had a certain spice to it that you couldn’t find anywhere else, and Rarity took a deep breath of it. It smelled of sweat, musk, and smoke. All ingredients that you find in the big city, irrespective of where you are. Just different amounts of it in different cities.
Rarity trotted down the sidewalk for a short distance, then hailed a cab. She took a ride through the city to a clothing establishment nestled between a gardening center and a nightclub. The club was closed at this time of day, but the garden center was very busy, as well as the clothing shop. She looked at the sign: The Weak Stitch. It didn’t seem like the kind of name that would be very popular, but the stallion who owned it, Weak Stitch himself, was one of the biggest names in fashion here in Manehatten.
Rarity walked up to the door and pushed it open. Her sense were assailed by a heavy amount of perfumes, colognes, and several pomanders hanging from the ceiling. A thin haze of smoke hung suspended in the room, and Rarity’s eyes began to water. A small bell rang as the door swung open, and she was immediately beset upon by a small and very thin, unicorn mare.
“Good day, ma’am, what on Equestria are your desires today? We seek to fulfill them in any way we can,” the mare said.
“Ah, hello.” Rarity struggled to keep her eyes open and tried to keep her nose unwrinkled from the smells assaulting her. “I’m here to meet with Weak Stitch. He told me to come by as soon as I woke up. We were going to discuss a fashion show.”
“Ah, yes! He mentioned you. Miss Rarity, yes?” The mare looked her up and down, assessing Rarity. “Mmhmm. You fit his style just right.”
“His style? Whatever do you mean?” Rarity said.
“Oh, just his taste in mares, dear. Do be careful. He gets a bit hoovesy, sometimes,” the mare said.
“Knitting Needle, if you please!” a voice said.
The mare gave an EEP and scuttled back to the back room. Rarity heard some chatter for a moment, then Weak Stitch, dressed up much more than she had first met him last night, walked out from behind a rack of clothing.
“Good day to you, Miss Rarity. Please, don’t mind many of the things Knitting Needle says. She has been carrying a torch for me for many years. I let her work here so she can be close to me, but she hasn’t gotten over the fact that she is, indeed, not my type,” Weak Stitch said.
Rarity was taken aback by his frankness, and the fact that he said all of that out loud when the mare had just passed by him and could probably still hear everything. If she was as obsessed as Weak Stitch had said, then she was probably listening.
“That seems awfully cruel of you,” Rarity said.
“Oh please, Miss Rarity, I’m not blackmailing her, and I’m paying her well. She is here entirely of her own volition. I am not hiding anything from her, and I have told her how I feel. This is her decision to stay,” Weak Stitch said.
“Well, I suppose that’s true. You’ve done everything you could, and she chooses to stay. It’s still a little strange,” Rarity said.
“Aren’t we all in our own way? But please, Miss Rarity, I invited you so that we might discuss fashion. Would you care to talk about it over lunch?” Weak Stitch said.
“Well, if I am as much your type as Knitting Needle says, then I should take that to be flirting, shouldn’t I?” Rarity gave him a coy look.
“Exactly like last night Miss Rarity. You won’t find me lying about such things. Yes, it is flirting,” Weak Stitch said.
“Well, then I will graciously accept. Take me wherever you had in mind. Manehatten has been your city for years,” Rarity said.
“Then come, I have just the place in mind. They serve just the right size plate. Do you count calories, miss Rarity?” Weak Stitch asked.
“Not usually, no. I know myself very well, and I regularly exercise. It’s done well enough for me so far,” Rarity said.
“Ah. You’re quite lucky. I turned 25 and found that my regular habits were no longer enough.” Weak Stitch led the way out of his store and flipped the sign to closed. “All the clothes that I had made for myself started to no longer fit me, and I discovered I was gaining weight. I was shocked and appalled at this betrayal from my own body, so from then on I decided I absolutely must take control of it.”
“That is an admirable amount of self-control Weak Stitch. You’ve maintained your figure quite well, I must say,” Rarity said.
“Well thank you Miss Rarity,” he said. “And please, call me Stitch.”
“Flirting again?” Rarity batted her eyelashes at him.
“Of course I am. Knitting Needle was correct, and will remain correct about that,” Weak Stitch said.
“Well then Stitch—“ Rarity offered a hoof to him. “—lead the way.”
Weak Stitch smiled and took the proffered hoof and led her down the sidewalk. “Then follow me.”
It was only a short walk, and Rarity was duly impressed by the look of the restaurant Weak Stitch took her to. It had an impressive façade facing the street, and there were decorations of all sorts hanging from the front and sitting in the windows. There were tables out front on half of the sidewalk, and the windows were opening, giving a breath of fresh air to the patrons inside, and allowing the smell of food to come wafting out. Rarity thought it looked a little Saddle Arabian.
“Here we are, Miss Rarity; Delicious Demise,” Weak Stitch said.
“Delicious Demise? That sounds ominous,” Rarity said.
“It’s like my shop. A lot of the places around here have followed my lead when creating their stores. The name sounds bad, but when they come inside and try the local flavor, whether it be food or clothes, they find out that it’s simply the best they’ve ever had,” Weak Stitch said. “The name then draws attention to the shop, and you get more customers, because who is going to forget a restaurant telling you that you are in for a delicious demise?”
“I suppose that’s true,” Rarity said.
Weak Stitch lead the way inside. The hostess recognized him at once, and he didn’t even have to ask, as they were immediately led to the back to a private booth. They were given water and menus, and then left alone, all without the hostess having to ask them for anything.
“Well Stitch, I can tell I’m not the first mare you’ve brought here, and you do indeed patronize this place quite often,” Rarity said.
“I’m the face of much of the area, miss Rarity. Everypony knows me in this neighborhood,” Weak Stitch said. “But! We didn’t come to talk about me alone. We came to discuss something both of us love with a deep and burning passion. We came to talk about clothes. What clothes does Rarity love the most?”
“Using such a simple word as clothes makes it sound so blasé Stitch. I would use the word couture, fashion, or chic. After all, we aren’t simply making clothes. We’re creating art that can be worn!” Rarity said.
“Passionate, as I had expected from everything I’d heard about you, Rarity. I must say that I feel a bit differently, however,” Stitch said. “While I agree that clothing can be art, it must also be functional. After all, some ponies must work with their hooves, and they don’t want to be wearing artwork.”
Rarity smiled. “You and my friend Applejack would get along quite well. She’s of a mind that clothes have to be functional first and foremost. I believe there’s room for both, and there’s certainly an audience for both.”
Weak Stitch nodded. “Oh certainly. But they are clothes, and when I say functional, they must be able to be worn. Everypony agrees that paintings are lovely, but you can’t wear a painting, so you have to make the clothes work for the type of pony who buys them, while still maintaining a look they appreciate.”
“Oh, I know what you mean,” Rarity said. “A working pony can still be fashionable while working, if I understand you correctly?”
“Precisely,” Weak Stitch said. That’s exactly the kind of pony I tailor the majority of my line-ups to. It’s what keeps them coming back. They can work, no matter their job, and still give off a well-dressed appearance.”
Their waitress came by and took their order, and the two ponies chatted about fashion at length, with Weak Stitch praising Rarity’s tastes time and again. Rarity was enjoying herself thoroughly, and found herself taking liking to the stallion. He was slim, but not skinny, and was filled out in all the right places. It looked like he took care of himself quite well, as he had mentioned.
His fashion was a bit unorthodox, though. For somepony of his tastes, the clothes her wore seemed a bit tight, and he had himself covered from head to hoof in fabric, some seemingly draped on himself in strange patterns. His shop felt the same way, so Rarity assumed it was just his personal taste. Some of the clothes she’d seen in the shop indicated he knew his audience well, and catered to that, but Rarity herself was currently wearing nothing but a hat, so she knew the feeling. Sometimes you just didn’t want to be wearing the same things you sold.
He had on some strange jewlery as well. The most prominent was a large and awfully gaudy thing, a sphere with small holes that was giving off that same scent his store had. A pomander, if Rarity knew her jewelry correctly. A portable container for scents that could be worn around the neck or attached to clothing. In older times it had been assumed to ward off diseases caused by bad smells or rotting things. Completely useless for that, in actuality. Rarity assumed he just liked the scent, but it was a little overpowering.
Their food arrived, and conversation died down a little bit as they ate, but once they were finished it picked up again. They talked for a good hour more, then left the restaurant.
“Well, that was a lovely conversation miss Rarity, but I really ought to be getting back. The store is closed without me, and I have many orders that need to be filled out,” Weak Stitch said.
“Oh come now, Knitting Needle was there, wasn’t she? The evening has just begun, and I would love some company.” Rarity fluttered her eyes and stepped in close.
“She works in the back room, organizing, cleaning, repairing and modifying clothes when I’m not there. I do not leave her in charge of sales,” Weak Stitch said.
Rarity was a bit confused. He had admitted to being attracted to her without any shadow of a doubt, and he had admitted to flirting with her, so why was he being so unwilling now? She didn’t particularly like the constant presence of those scents he carried with him and that permeated his shop, but she was willing to look past that.
A big name in the industry, not bad to look at, odd but innovative taste in fashion. She hadn’t expected much other than a bit of chit-chat with another pony interested in clothes, but this had gone a completely different direction and she wasn’t willing to let this go to waste! She was no stranger to using her body to get what she wanted, but right as she had thought she could seal the deal he was backing out! Why?
“Well… if not tonight, then tomorrow, surely?” Rarity asked.
“We will meet again, miss Rarity. I will leave a message with the young mare at your shop,” Weak Stitch said.
With that, he just turned and left, leaving Rarity standing in front of the restaurant, dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe it. It was bad enough he had the gall to flirt for so long and then leave, but he didn’t even walk her back to his shop or hers. Not even a kiss or a peck goodbye. He just up and left.
Was it a ploy? Get her interested and then drop everything so that she would come running to him instead of him having to do all the work? That must be it! Nopony could possibly be so dense as to assume that she didn’t want to sleep with him by the time the meal was over. He was trying to get her to do all the work. He knew his position in Manehatten was solid, and hers wasn’t, he was trying to play mind games with her!
Rarity huffed her way back to her own boutique and stomped in the door, muttering to herself. Coco was with another customer, but turned to look at her angry entrance.
“Welcome back, Rarity. The meeting didn’t go well?” Coco asked.
“Not at all. I thought we had something going, but I cannot fathom what his game is,” Rarity said. “He’s passionate about his work, that much is obvious, but his interactions with ponies and his habits are… queer. I don’t follow them. At all.”
“He wasn’t interested in you at all?” Coco asked.
Rarity shot her a withering look. Coco shrugged.
“He was, but that was the confusing part. He was flirting the entire time we were out, and it wasn’t subtle, oh no, it was very straightforward statements such as; ‘I am interested in you Rarity’. But at the end of our meeting, he just walked off!” Rarity said.
Coco looked at Rarity with confusion plain on her face. “That’s very strange behavior. It fits with what I’ve heard of him, though. He started out as a simple tailor, but got progressively more and more reclusive and odd as time went on. He also started carrying scented things around with him everywhere.” Coco wrinkled her nose.
“Hmmm, yes, his pomander. He had one on him while we were at lunch. It didn’t really help improve the meal at all,” Rarity said.
“I’ve only visited his store once when I was working with Suri. It smelled awful then. Was it still as bad now?”
Rarity nodded. “The smell was cloying. I don’t know why anypony would be willing to spend time in that looking for an outfit that fits. His little employee mare, Knitting Needle, must have no sense of smell.”
Coco looked up at the mention of the mare’s name. “Knitting Needle? She still works with him?”
“Why yes, he said she’s ‘carrying such a torch for me for years now’ so he lets her work there,” Rarity said.
“Well, that’s accurate at least. I don’t know why he would brag about such a thing.” Coco pulled a thread tight and tied it off. “There you are, ma’am. It should fit perfectly now.”
The mare on the podium stretched out her legs, testing the dress with her movements. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“No, thank you for coming. We’re always happy if you’re happy.” Coco took the mare’s payment and placed it in the cash register, then turned back to Rarity.
“He seemed like a very confident stallion, Coco,” Rarity said. “He said they had discussed their relationship and come to a consensus about it. If she wants to keep working with a stallion who has made his intentions with her clear, I won’t try to tell her how she should live. I don’t think it’s healthy, but she is free to do as she pleases.”
“I wonder what happened then. He hated her a couple years ago. She started spreading rumors that they were sleeping together in secret, and that got under his skin. He even fired her,” Coco said.
“That is strange. Maybe she’s just the only pony who’s willing to put up with the smells he has filling the place?” Rarity said.
“I don’t know. He’s been very secretive about himself and her since then, and she’s remained silent on the matter. I suppose they worked it out somehow,” Coco said. “Wait… you don’t think he’s actually sleeping with her to keep her silent?”
Rarity’s lip curled in disgust. “Coco! That’s just cruel! Sleeping with her to keep her as an employee while he goes out flirting with other mares? That’s… that’s terrible!”
Coco shrugged. “It was merely a thought, Rarity. What else explains the two of them?”
“I don’t know. The two of them must have a very complicated relationship. I’m definitely not putting myself in a position to affect that. Especially with the way he treated me. I don’t need her or his drama on me,” Rarity said. “It is a shame, though. He is very good-looking, and quite well-dressed.”
“I’m sure there will be others Rarity. Don’t you still have other events to attend while you’re here? There’s bound to be stallions interested in you somewhere,” Coco said.
Rarity sighed and sat down on the podium Coco had been working on. “I know there will be. This one was just so straightforward I thought I’d gotten an ‘in’ finally.”
“Was that all you were hoping for?” Coco gave Rarity a sidelong glance.
Rarity glared back at Coco. “Of course not! But whether or not he would have made good marriage material has nothing to do with the fact that he would have been an excellent introduction into the fashion elite of Manehatten. I’m still new, and an endorsement by somepony of his stature would have gone a long way to moving my career along.”
Coco laughed at how defensive Rarity had become. “I’m sorry Rarity. I shouldn’t laugh. You’re trying your best, and everypony knows it. We’re making a steady profit here, so don’t fuss so much about it so soon. It will happen I’m sure.”
“Oh Coco, thank you. I know it will, but if I can help it along in any way I’ll take that chance. It just need a little bit of work,” Rarity said. “For now, though, let’s focus on creating until tomorrow! I could use an opportunity to channel some of this frustration!”
Rarity flipped her mane and went to stand next to Coco. The two of them looked through a list of orders and each picked out something to work on. The two of them took turns helping customers as they came in, and the day passed quickly.
The evening was a bit more of a fun affair. When they closed up shop, Rarity pulled Coco to a place a customer had told her about. It was a small bar just off one of the main streets of Manehatten. Not too well known, but Rarity said the customer had mentioned that some big names could be seen here occasionally.
“It’s just for a few drinks, Coco. We’ll leave before it gets too late,” Rarity said.
It passed midnight before they decided to leave, and Rarity was quite tipsy. Coco had to support her as they left the bar, with Rarity trying to dance some more as she was pulled out the exit.
“Ahhh, nopony showed up. What a disappointment. Disappointing, disappointing, disappointing. Who decided to come to this place?” Rarity said.
“That was you, Rarity,” Coco said.
“Hmmm, I’ve been making bad decisions these past few days,” Rarity said.
“Yes you have,” Coco said.
Rarity frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, when she stopped. She sniffed the air and moved away from Coco, trying to figure out where the smell was coming from.
“Do you smell that, Coco?” Rarity said.
Coco sniffed the air, trying to smell what Rarity was talking about. “I’m not sure. What does it smell like?”
“It smells like Weak Stitch’s shop,” Rarity said.
Coco followed after Rarity, trying to pull her toward home. “Rarity, that could be anypony who might have gone to his shop today. It might still be clinging to them.”
“No, no. This is far too strong to be residual scent. This is like that pomander he had on him,” Rarity said.
Rarity followed the smell, yanking the more petite Coco along with her as she went. She followed the smell down a street, and into an alley. She continued deeper, until she bumped into a couple of mares standing at a corner.
“Well look what the cat dragged in. You drunk enough to pay 30 bits for a night of fun?” one of the mares said.
“I’m not into mares, no. I’m looking for somepony. Perhaps you’ve seen him? Weak Stitch? Fashion icon of Manehatten?” Rarity asked.
The two mares looked at each other. One seemed confused, but the other sneered at Rarity.
“I know of him, yeah. What’s it to you?” the sneering one said.
“It’s no business of yours what it is to me, but I ‘smelled’ his particular smell coming from this direction and thought I would seek him out,” Rarity said.
“His smell, eh? So you two have been close?” the other mare winked at Rarity and licked her lips.
Rarity sighed. “Not everything is an innuendo, and no, we haven’t. He carries a pomander with him, a small container for scents. Not something you see every day.”
“Oh, you mean like this?” the loud mare held up a gold chain attached to her skirt. At the end was a small ball, similar to that worn by Weak Stitch, but much fancier.
“Ah, yes precisely,” Rarity said.
“They’re not as rare as you think, doll. Weak Stitch is a fashion icon for a reason,” the mare said.
“Well, if you are wearing that because of his influence, can you tell me anything about him?” Rarity asked.
The mare shook her head. “Sorry doll. He’s reclusive, that one. Doesn’t come out much, but when he does, he’s always looking for something. Something very particular, and he won’t stop until he gets it.”
“Hmmm. That is actually useful to hear. Thank you very much.” Rarity floated the mare a gemstone from a pocket of her saddlebag as payment for the information.
“Woo-ee! That’ll save me a night of trouble! Maybe the both of us! Thanks, miss…”
“Rarity. I own the boutique Rarity For You. If you’re looking for clothes for ANY reason, please do stop by,” Rarity said.
“Will do, doll! Thanks again. Hope you find him sometime,” the mare said.
Rarity and Coco turned away and started walking back to Coco’s flat. There was silence for much of the trek, but Rarity broke it with a question.
“How much of the news covers fashion, Coco?” Rarity asked.
“There are several magazines that cover fashion scoop. I can get you copies of each if you’d like,” Coco said.
“Do any of them try to get inside the personal lives of the top designers?” Rarity asked.
Coco gave her a strange look. “Don’t tell me you want to know more about Weak Stitch’s personal habits.”
“Not strictly that. I want to know about him, personally,” Rarity said. “He has a favourite restaurant, and his style is well known, and yet ponies call him reclusive. Does that mean he isn’t seen on the streets often, or does it mean that nopony knows anything about his personal life?”
“Well, from what I know it’s that nopony knows anything personal about him. The interviews he actually chooses to go to are rare, and personal questions are brushed aside. Why are you so interested?” Coco asked.
“I’m curious what it is about him that gets ponies so interested, even though he rarely makes appearances these days. His shop smells terrible, he was rude to me as a colleague immediately after being polite. He has something, and I mean to discover what it is,” Rarity said.
“Rarity… it sounds like you’re falling for his trap,” Coco said.
“What do you mean?” Rarity asked.
“He’s pretending to be mysterious after being rude to you, and now you want to know more. It’s a classic Manehatten bad-boy maneuver,” Coco said.
Rarity mulled over her words for a moment as they walked, she was feeling a lot more balanced now that she had some fresh air. The drinks were wearing off, and she had to nod in agreement with Coco.
“You’re right, Coco, my dear. You are indeed right. I’m sorry. I got carried away by the fact that anypony would have spurned my advances. It hurt a lot more than I realized,” Rarity said.
“Don’t worry about it Rarity. It happens to the best of us,” Coco said.
“Indeed. Let’s get back to your place and get some rest. I have work I wish to take care of tomorrow,” Rarity said.
They walked back home, got into Coco’s flat and prepared for bed. As Rarity lay herself down to rest, she cracked open a window to let in some night air, and curled up to sleep. Right before she drifted off, she could have sworn she smelled the awful and telltale scent of Weak Stitch’s pomander wafting in the window. It disappeared, and she thought no more of it before she fell asleep, dreams claiming her in their grasp.
In the morning, she was feeling fresh and ready for the day. Coco made breakfast again, although Rarity insisted she could help. The younger mare had been used to serving Suri Polomare and found that it helped her relax to cook for somepony else, as strange as that seemed. It allowed Rarity to write out her plans for the day, and before they knew it they were both off to Rarity For You to open up for business.
The day passed slowly at first, but by the time the afternoon grew late ponies were coming in one after another and business sped up until evening. With Rarity helping Coco, most of the work was finished on the same day, and Coco wouldn’t have to schedule things days ahead of time, which she was thankful for. It was one of the reason Rarity made these trips.
Once the traffic slowed down, Rarity took a break and stepped outside to watch the night life begin. She observed taxis roll past, ponies trot along the sidewalk, and a few walked past her and spared a glance. Most of the time it was stallions, but a few mares looked at her as well. The stallions had a hungry look in their eyes more often than not, but some of the mares did too. It pleased Rarity to know that no matter where she went, she was always an object of attention.
As she stood outside, Rarity caught a whiff of that familiar smell again. The acrid scent of Weak Stitch’s pomander-filled shop wafting by on a stray breeze. She looked around, but couldn’t see him nearby, so she followed it. Her nose was in the air and she sniffed every so often to make sure she was on the right track. She followed it down the street to a portable food cart, where the smell of some foreign food she couldn’t ever pronounce properly mixed with the sweet-ish pomander smell.
Rarity looked about and still couldn’t find him, but the smell, despite being so close to the food cart, was here. She was sure of it. There were three ponies sitting at the cart, but none of them were Weak Stitch. They didn’t have the build, nor did they have the same sense of fashion that he had.
“Can’t help but notice you lookin’ miss. You ever have falafel before?” the cart’s owner asked.
“Oh, once, I believe,” Rarity said.
“You believe? Usually four bits, but I’ll let a fine mare such as yourself have one for only two bits, just so you get the taste on your tongue again. I promise you won’t regret it,” the stallion said.
“Thank you, but I came here looking for somepony. He has a very particular scent to him and I thought I smelled it over here,” Rarity said.
The stallion sniffed the air and shrugged at Rarity. “I don’t smell anythin’ but this fiiiiine falafel!” He picked up one of the wraps in front of him and brought it up to his nose, then sniffed deeply and laughed.
“Well, I apologize for bothering you. By way of apology I think I shall take you up on your offer after all. May I get two at that price?” Rarity asked.
“Absolutely, miss,” the stallion said.
Rarity waited while the stallion cooked some fresh falafel. She watched as he pulled out some strange ingredients she didn’t quite recognize, mold them into balls, and dip them in boiling oil. He was right, it did smell good, but she could swear she still detected the pomander Weak Stitch used somewhere around here.
Rarity took a look around the immediate area, looking for some sign of Weak Stitch’s fashion or that distinctive mane style he had. She couldn’t see any of it, and sighed. The food cart stallion wrapped her food up in a paper bag, and hoofed it to her with a flourish. Rarity leaned forward to grab it and noticed out of the corner of her eye that one of the other stallions sitting at the counter was surreptitiously watching her. She was flattered at first, but she saw that he had hanging around his neck a brass sphere pomander.
Now that she knew the source, Rarity’s sense of smell told her that yes, that was where the smell was coming from. He must have heard her ask about the smell, so why hadn’t he brought it up? Why had he been watching her so surreptitiously?
In the end, Rarity didn’t ask, and left with her two falafels. Something about the stallion’s eyes had creeped her out, and it was late in the evening. Coco would be wondering where she’d wandered off to.
Rarity returned to the boutique with the falafels and stepped back inside. Coco perked up at the smell of the food and put down what she was working on.
“Oh, thank you Rarity. You’re too kind,” Coco said.
“You’re quite welcome Coco. I thought I’d take a little walk, and I encountered a very convincing food vendor,” Rarity said.
They ate their food in near silence, with only a few small comments about their day and their work together. Rarity didn’t bring up the smells, because at this point she wasn’t sure if it was just her or if pomanders had always been a part of the fashion around Manehatten and she just hadn’t noticed.
The second possibility seemed unlikely. She was a mare of fashion, and she hadn’t seen them regularly, nor smelled them. She was certain she’d have noticed both, so why were they suddenly to be found everywhere she went? It seemed too convenient, but she didn’t know what to make of it yet.
Rarity and Coco cleaned up shop, closed, and traveled home. There were no unusual smells that Rarity detected on their walk, nor as she went to bed, even with the window open. She still wasn’t willing to dismiss it as her being unobservant, because that was something Rarity was definitely not. Not when it came to clothes and jewelry.
In the morning, Rarity woke up before Coco did, and prepared breakfast. Coco woke up and was rubbing her eyes as she entered the kitchen. She gratefully took the proffered bowl of sliced fruit and ate it in silence, staring into her bowl.
“Didn’t sleep well? It’s not like you to be so tired mornings,” Rarity asked.
“Not really. I had my window open and there was this smell coming in the window. It smelled like something rotting outside, so I had to close my window. It had already permeated the room, unfortunately, and it’s summer, so it became rather hot quite quickly,” Coco said.
“A smell like rotting?” That wasn’t the smell of Weak Stitch’s pomander, but it was still odd. “Was it there in the morning?”
“No, it was gone by then. If something had been dumped in the alley, it’s been taken away by the trash by now. It’s garbage day anyway, so it was probably somepony’s leftover food. We’re not in the most optimal location, you know,” Coco said.
Garbage day. That made sense. Rarity chided herself for assuming every odd smell out of place was caused by Weak Stitch. That smelly shop of his had caused her so much confusion. She really needed to calm down.
“Well, I hope you’ll be ready for another day of work. I’m going to go meet Sapphire Shores today, so I’ll be missing late in the afternoon, but I’ll be there to help during the first half,” Rarity said.
“Oh, that will be fine Rarity. You know I can take care of the shop by myself,” Coco said.
“I know, I just like to help,” Rarity said.
They got ready to go and headed out to the shop once more. It was opened without a problem and customers trickled in as the morning progressed. Everything went smoothly until Rarity smelled that stench of Weak Stitch again.
“What in Tartarus is that?” Rarity slammed her hooves on her sewing table.
Coco jumped at the sudden movement. “What is what?”
“That smell! I keep smelling that awful stench of Weak Stitch’s shop everywhere I go,” Rarity said. “Even bathing hasn’t gotten rid of it.”
Coco sniffed the air. “Oh, that. I don’t know. I just thought it wafted in from the street. Manehatten is a place of many scents.”
“Well at least I know I’m not imagining it,” Rarity said. “That’s still small comfort, because it’s an awful smell.”
Rarity stood up from her seat and started sniffing around the boutique. She walked about the shop trying to smell where it was coming from. She sniffed around the middle of the floor, around several ponies, and underneath a few clothing racks. She got a few strange looks from some of the patrons, but nopony really bothered her about her strange behavior.
She stopped one of them and asked: “Excuse me miss, do you smell something strange?”
The pony sniffed for a moment and nodded. “I do, I thought it was just me. It’s a smell that kind of insinuates itself into your nostrils isn’t it?”
“Yes, precisely. I’m a little concerned by it,” Rarity said. “Thank you, I just needed to confirm that it wasn’t just me.”
Rarity went on her way, leaving the mare to herself once more. She sniffled around the building until she had pinpointed three places where it was strongest.
“Coco!” Rarity yelled.
Several ponies in the shop looked her way but turned back to the clothes when they saw it was just Rarity calling for the shop supervisor.
Coco trotted over to Rarity. “Yes, Rarity?”
“I’ve figured out where the smell is coming from. Unfortunately, it appears to be coming from the ducts. That either means that something is in the ducts, or it’s coming from a separate part of the building. I’m going to go ask upstairs in the club, I want you to get a screwdriver and pull the covers off so we can investigate,” Rarity said.
“Certainly Rarity,” Coco said.
While Coco went off to get a screwdriver and open up the three vents, Rarity stormed outside and went upstairs to the club her store had been built underneath. It usually wasn’t too much of a problem except on weekends, and she had come to an agreement with the DJ that they would have certain music at specific times of day to put Rarity’s customers in the mood to shop.
Right now, this was not a pleasure call or a business call. Rarity felt like somepony was stalking her, and she did not appreciate it one bit. That smell was everywhere, and she couldn’t shake it. It wasn’t her. She’d established that by bathing and applying all sorts of scented oils into her mane and fur. She wasn’t the cause. Somepony else was following her, she was sure of it. It was likely Weak Stitch, but she couldn’t prove it beyond that smell. That was distinctly him, no matter what that mare had said a few nights ago. He’d probably given it to her as a gift or something like that.
Rarity trotted up the entrance and the bouncer let her in with no fuss. It was still midday, so there wasn’t much going on except some soft music and a lot of ponies chatting with each other. Rarity was welcome whenever she wanted, but in exchange she had to cater to the clientele that came to the club. That wasn’t a problem for her. Although it wasn’t her preferred fashion, it was still something she was willing to make. Everypony should feel fashionable and comfortable with themselves.
In the club, Rarity sniffed about, earning her some strange looks from a few patrons. She stopped up at the DJ’s booth and asked if she had smelled anything strange. The mare was a pony of few words, but she looked pensive for a moment, then pointed in the direction of a table off to one side of the flashing, multicolored dance floor. Rarity thanked her and trotted over there.
Once there, Rarity trusted her nose, and walked slowly about the dark corner. She smelled it. Faint at first, but getting stronger the deeper into the corner she got. She sniffed the air every so often, but it wasn’t necessary, she was headed in the right direction. As it reached peak strength, she found herself next to a booth where a lone stallion sat. He looked young, and was very well dressed from head to hoof.
He looked up at her and smiled a toothy smile. “Well hello there pretty, petite, and porcelain. What brings you to see me today?”
He was good-looking, but Rarity was not in the mood for flirting right now. “I’m here because I smell a singular scent on you, and I want to know why.”
“Well, I have been complimented on my—“
Rarity cut him off. “I swear if you say ‘musk’ I will rip your balls off. I am referring to an artificial scent kept inside a pomander. It is the scent used by a colleague of mine, by the name of Weak Stitch.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about, doll, but if you like the scent you can have a seat and you can smell me as much as you like. I’ll pay for drinks, of course,” the stallion said.
Rarity rolled her eyes. She looked the stallion over. He was wearing a rather tight vest with several bulging pockets, any one of which could have held the pomander she was looking for. His pants were mostly hidden underneath the table, but as a fashion guru herself, she could imagine what the rest of them looked like based on his choice of fashion and venue. Still, she couldn’t go jumping to conclusions without proof.
“Alright, I’ll sit and talk for a moment.” Rarity slid into the booth across from him, avoiding sliding too far in. It was a horseshoe shape and she didn’t want to give him the impression that she wanted him close to her.
The moment she sat down he slid himself around the booth and pressed up next to her. The smell of the pomander was overpowering from this close, and she had no doubt in her mind anymore that it was the same one used by Weak Stitch. It was too much of a coincidence, and who in their right mind would want to smell like that besides him?
“So babe, my name’s Alto Sax. What’re you into? Dancing? Music? Fashion?” Alto Sax asked.
“Fashion, actually, and don’t call me babe,” Rarity said.
“Fashioooon! That’s awesome! But you gotta give me a name to work with, doll,” Alto said.
“It’s Rarity,” Rarity said.
“Rarity! Well you sure are a rarity to see here!” Alto chuckled at his own pun. “I make music. Write it, if you want to be specific. Got lots of ponies interested in my work, just waiting for somepony to pick it up. Got several recordings planned out, too,”
Rarity tuned him out as he talked and used the opportunity to look him over more closely. He wasted no time in pulling her closer, and she had free access to look him over.
While he talked she looked at his vest, trying to investigate his pockets. The vest itself was tight, and exposed his forehooves. It had several pockets on the front, many of which bulged a small amount due to their contents, but she couldn’t pinpoint if any of them had the pomander she was looking for. His pants, which she could now see properly, appeared to be as tight as his vest and it was a wonder how he fit into them. It did nothing to hide anything, as he was most clearly aware of, as he kept his legs spread wide. He caught her looking at grinned, then spread them wider. Rarity sighed but didn’t say or do anything. He took this as a good thing, and kept talking. He even draped a hoof across her chest and pulled her head closer to his chest so she was halfway on top of him. He was taking quite a few liberties, but something was off about this whole situation, and Rarity meant to figure out what, no matter how utterly impossible this stallion was to deal with.
Rarity couldn’t see any pomanders or other scented things on him, so she surmised it must be in one of his pockets, else how would it permeate him so thoroughly. She felt her bile rise as the smell started getting to her, and struggled to keep it down.
Rarity looked up at Alto as he kept babbling on about this music thing and that music thing. She wasn’t interested, but she feigned it, and put a hoof on his chest and stroked it. He made a pleased sound and put more pressure on her, pulling her further on top of him. Rarity tried to pull back, but his pressure was getting insistent. It was obvious what he wanted her to do.
Rarity couldn’t focus on trying to find where he was keeping the pomander, and was forced instead to put her energy into keeping her head away from his lap. She needed to figure something out to distract him.
“Kiss me,” Rarity said.
“What?” Alto Sax said.
“Before we go further, show me you know how to kiss a mare,” she said.
“What… does that have to do with it?” Alto Sax said.
“Despite how easy it was to get me into your booth, you can clearly see that I am a mare of refinement,” Rarity said. “I will not suffer myself to be ponyhandled unless I am sure that my partner is capable of providing me the attention I so rightly deserve. That includes knowing how to kiss a mare. Can you do it?” Rarity turned her head up toward his and looked him in the eyes.
Alto Sax seemed unsure of what to do. He was likely hoping to just get some attention, maybe a quickie, and then be on his way. He wasn’t expecting a request of any sort from her, hoping instead that she’d be willing to do what she was told in exchange for free drinks.
“Babe, look—“
“Don’t call me ‘babe’. My name is Rarity, and as you so quaintly said yourself, I am a rarity, now can you kiss me or not?” Rarity was moving her hoof over his pockets, looking for one that felt like it was harboring a sphere.
“Rarity, you seem like a swell gal, but we just met,” Alto said.
“Oh, so ‘just meeting’ is enough for a blowjob but not for a kiss?” Rarity moved her head closer, her hoof going down to his pants pockets.
“That’s… uh…”
Rarity couldn’t find anything. Surely he had one, surely this wasn’t a waste of time. Where else could he keep it? “Look, it’s very simple Alto, kiss me, then I go down. Right?”
Alto shifted in his seat, seeming unsure of himself. His reaction was almost as interesting as her search for the source of the smell. He was hiding something beyond just the source of the smell.
“Look, I just… don’t want to,” Alto said.
“No? But you’ll have my lips elsewhere? You were all over me before, why not a kiss?” Rarity asked.
“I…” Alto fidgeted further, and started to pull away.
Rarity grabbed him by the head, and pulled his face down to hers. Their lips met, and she kissed him hard on the mouth.
Almost immediately after she tasted him, she pulled away and spat, rubbing her mouth with her hoof.
“Gah! What in Tartarus?! Sweet Celestia’s royal hindquarters!” Rarity yelled.
A good portion of the seating area had now turned to look at them. Alto pulled himself out of the booth, bumping the table and spilling his remaining drink. He took off running for the door, but not before Rarity saw the dock of his short tail, where the pomander she had been searching for had been hanging. She had found it, and she was right once again, and she had learned something else. Something she was concerned deeply about.
Rarity rubbed a hoof over her tongue and rushed over to the bartender. She was given a glass of water of which she took a quick swig, gargled, swished, then spat delicately into a napkin. After she did this several times, she felt better and motioned to the bartender.
“May I get something to wash this awful taste out of my mouth please?” Rarity asked.
She was presented with a glass of some dark liquid, and downed it, not caring what it was. It was strong, and very bitter, but much better than that taste she had found in Alto’s mouth. He had tasted like rotten meat smelled. Meat wasn’t a common occurrence around any pony city. It was usually only encountered on farms that had livestock, when one of them would accidentally die, or in special foreign sections of big cities where griffons could be found visiting.
Rarity had first encountered the smell on Applejack’s farm, when one of the cows had strayed too close to the Everfree forest. Timberwolves had gotten to the poor creature and left its body lying in the sun. The other cows had been loath to talk about it until a few days later, and Applejack had been forced to go hunt her down herself. Rarity had been visiting and offered to go along, which was when she had smelled it. She had fainted almost instantly at the sight, leaving poor AJ to carry two bodies back to the farmhouse.
But that smell had never been forgotten, and this was what she had imagined that smell would taste like, to a T. Why had his mouth tasted like that? Would he have smelled like that if it weren’t for the pomander? Was that why he had it on him? Rarity had so many more questions, and still no answers, and the only way it looked like she was going to get them would be to go to the source of all the questions; Weak Stitch himself.
Rarity ordered another drink, finished it, and then ordered several more. She was tired, frustrated, and had a million separate questions banging around inside her head. She was in no mood to deal with them tonight.
Night must have fallen by the time Rarity finished drinking. The dance floor was livelier, the lights were dimmer, and the music was thumping far more heavily. She bumped through a crowd of ponies as she made her way back to the stairs. The bouncer caught her as she fell on the first few steps, and escorted her down to her shop.
Coco looked up as she stumbled inside. “Rarity where have you been? I was so worried but I knew you had just gone upstairs, what’s going on?”
“I have an thinkling, Coco, a dangerous, frightening, thinkling, and I’m shhhhhhhure I hate it. I wish to go to darling bed darling. Thinking’s… not fun at the darling moment,” Rarity slurred.
Coco sighed and closed up shop, ushering out the final customer with promises of discounts on their work which should be finished first thing tomorrow. Once she had the place closed up, she carried Rarity back to the apartment, shoved water down her throat, and tucked her in for the night.