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I had gone to bed, late last night. There had been nothing unusual, and I had no cause of concern or fear. Now, I guess my initial sense of security had been wrong.
There had been no thought, of what I had just woken up to. Why? Why should one fear, what is not supposed to happen? I had expected to wake up, in my own bed. Nothing special should happen to me, during the night, or the day following the night.
.
As I wake up, the room is still dark. I imagine it is very early, but without opening my eyes or seeing a watch; how am I to know?
Still, there is no escaping the sensation of the clean, sleek bed-linen. The pillow is suspiciously soft, under my head.
Once I finally do open my eyes, I find the room still in twilight. Almost good for sleeping, but I am not sleepy. I should not claim to be fully awake, but enough to climb out of bed.
I may not see much, but what I do see of myself; is exactly as I recall it from the day before. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that is sticking out.
As I wear nothing, but a pair of panties and a fairly skimpy top; I fold the quilt aside towards the wall, before I slide my feet out from under the quilt and sit up. Nothing wrong with the white cotton clothes, they are quite fine to wear to bed. Comfortable enough, to permit me to sleep all night.
From a sitting position, I manage to raise to my feet and stand up comfortably. Like this, I scan the room in what is still a relative darkness. Maybe the light from outside is starting to make itself known, but it is still a solid twilight. My night vision is not quite cutting through the darkness, I can’t really see all that much.
The first I can see, at least making out enough to orient myself; is the door and the wardrobe, at the foot-end of my room. My room, since it should be where I had been sleeping; but, I am also alone in the room. Thus, this is my room, until I know otherwise.
There is a light-switch, by the side of the door. I manage to walk the few steps over, before I reach out and attempts to turn the light on. Thankfully, the light is merely decorative; or, I would have been instantly blinded by the light I could have been expecting.
With the light on, in the room; I can finally make a reasonable assessment, of what is the room I had found myself. This is clearly not the room in which I had fallen asleep, and nothing in the room is actually mine. Not even the panties or the top I am wearing.
While I know something is off, I still hope to have something more fitting to wear; so that I can step out of the room, do something other than sit on my room. Maybe this is a hotel-room, and I just could not recall checking in? I am bound to have something to wear, hidden within the wardrobe?
While it is not what I recall, or what I had been hoping for; maybe there is something, anything better than what I am currently wearing?
Walking from the door, the few steps over to the wardrobe; I reach out, pulling the doors open. The wardrobe is at least not empty.
There are three hangers in the wardrobe, from which a single suit is hanging. A white, a purple and a pink one; respectively. Not quite a bathing-suit, and the material certainly is not that of the bathing-suit; more sophisticated, something I could wear openly as I walk out of the room. Is this a body, or possibly a piece of an ensemble or suit?
The material feels sleek and smooth, possibly like rubber, or some similar material. As I choose the white one, it hit me the colour is considered alabaster. I have no idea, how or why I know this; but that is what the colour is called. I only step out of the panties, before I step into the suit; pulling it up, giving it a few tentative tugs in order to ascertain the proper fit.
“Why do I feel beautiful?” I ponder; “I am fabulous!” I continue.
While the garment was never mine, but it still feels better to wear it. Am I Rarity? The material is silicone.
Emboldened by the first success, I pick up what initially seems to be a pair of matching sleeves, but soon proves to be a pair of full-length fingerless gloves in matching style. The same complementary silicon.
As I pull up the right glove, I experience the tight-hugging firmness of the glove. It eagerly slide all the way up over my elbow on the way up towards the shoulder.
Without a second thought, I repeat the process; pulling the left glove on, only affording it a few tentative tugs in order to ascertain the perfect fit.
While the gloves are quite tight, I barely gave it a thought; enjoying the feeling, knowing just how fabulous and beautiful I am. I like being beautiful, even if I never had put effort into it or even given it a thought before.
Everything just feels right. Could I pass up what the ensemble given me already, and what it is promising me?
“I do have a pair of stockings left, to put on!” I ponder, as I look back into the wardrobe.
I extract the right stocking, stepping right into it with growing confidence; feeling the sleek and smooth material slide over my skin, swallowing my foot whole. I repeat the process, as I step into the left stocking and thus completing the transformation.
Affording the thigh-high stockings a few tentative tugs, in order to ascertain the perfect fit. Nothing less could have been expected from me now.
Without a second thought, I close the wardrobe behind myself; as I leave the wardrobe and turn towards the door, out of the room.
As I walk the short distance towards the door, my skin has turned the same alabaster hue as the ensemble I am wearing. I had not noticed, but I have no mirror to see my reflection in. I do not care, it is unimportant.
Furthermore, I now have the light blue to cyan eye-shadows and curled up, black eye-lashes. Had I looked down, I would have seen the mark of the three stylized diamonds in formation, right there on my thighs.
Being a Unicorn, I light up my horn and reach for the handle, opening the door without a thought. Elegant, convenient. A ladylike manner, I am already familiar and comfortable with. I had never been clumsy or a klutz before, so I guess I had no real change on that part.
.
I carefully chew down the last of my salad, washing it down with the tea I had just made myself.
“While it is not exactly tea from Celestia’s or Luna’s private stash, but it is at least tea!” I ponder.
While I can’t quite place how I know, or who the Princesses are; but their tea is divine, when you do have the opportunity to have a cup with either of them.
As I am using references to my former life as rarity, remembering that life; my life as the girl who put on her ensemble slowly fades, evaporating as I focus on the task at hoof.
Once I had finished my breakfast, I clean up the table and complete the dishes. With that, I put the items back, where I had found them. No point in leaving a mess, after myself; that is not the ladylike manner, I am priding myself of.
As a Unicorn, I am used to applying magic towards what I have before me; knowing I am quite competent at it. I can easily use my hands, but complimenting my effort with magic still makes everything easier.
I am a Unicorn, and a fairly regular one on the magic practice; not an Alicorn, like Twilight who is mastering multiple complicated spells, like foals’ play. My specialty is not in magic, of and my itself; but the implication, as far as it is helping me complete my goals.
With the breakfast out of the way, my next priority is to see exactly what my wardrobe had in store for me. I am no longer ravaged by hunger, so I can think clearly.
I step out of the kitchen, before I close the door behind myself. From there, I continue back to the bed-room and the wardrobe. Since the doors had been closed, I once more open the wardrobe, in order to have a better look at what I have before me. What my options are, and what I need to fix.
“Strange!” I mumble; “Purple, pink, yellow, orange and cyan?” I continue.
“Why do these colours remind me of friends, I once knew?” I ponder.
“Friends I once was close to!” I correct myself, after a moment’s thought.
“Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Applejack and Rainbow Dash! Indeed, these are dear friends, of mine!” I point out.
These were my best friends, when I used to live in Ponyville. I had been a Unicorn, back then.
“I am still a Unicorn, by all accounts; even if I am no longer a pony, but a Human now!” I put forth.
I miss my friends, as I miss being a Pony. I also miss my family and my boutique. All my boutiques, I correct myself. Not just the boutiques, but all the Ponies working for me, to make the business work.
After a moment of self-reflection; I turn back to the suits in the wardrobe, scrutinizing the ensembles before me. Now I notice, the suits are not identical. There are numerous small differences between the individual garments, aside from the colours representing the individual friend.
If I look close enough, I can see the character of each girl the suits belongs to. While I see no sign of wings, or horn; I can still see the athletic build of Rainbow Dash, the strength of Applejack and the reserved timidity of Fluttershy standing out like a sore hoof. Or, maybe it is a sore thumb here, as a Human?
“Would I have become Pinkie Pie, if I had chosen the pink ensemble, or Twilight Sparkle, if I had chosen the purple one?” I inquire.
There is no response, no answer; not that I had expected any, but I guess I already know the answer to my question already. I could have chosen any of these, but I had chosen the white suit. I am Rarity, no question about it. Now I could not change, but I don’t want to.
I could have chosen to try out any and all of them, but my mind is made up. I can not change who I am. Why should I? That had been, as if I had been writing and wanted to be someone else. Somepony else.
As I realize, I notice a change in the wardrobe. The suits of my friends evaporates into thin air, as if Discord himself had snapped his fingers and made them go away. He is not here, but the wardrobe is still empty.
It is not just the suits, representing my friends; that vanished. I am nude, but my skin is still just as white as the suit had been. I am still human, but I am also the Unicorn known as Rarity. I am proud of myself, and who I am. I have no need to feel shame, over myself or what I do.
I am giving generously, of what I have and what I make. Selling popular, high quality suits to any Pony who finds their way into my boutique. I even went as far, as to establish boutiques in Canterlot and Manehattan; in order for more Ponies to find me, and be able to wear my creations. While I still love Ponyville, and considers it my home; this does not prevent me, from branching out and reaching out to Ponies all over Equestria and beyond.
Since I am still Human, I feel the need to be dressed up and wear clothes. As a Pony, I never felt the urge; I still enjoyed dressing up, but never because it had been required out of me. I could still dress up, for an occasion too.
“If I am white, why wear white clothes?” I ponder.
“I still need my clothes to match my colour and style!” I mumble.
As I finally do look up, from my reflections; I notice that the wardrobe is no longer empty, but is once more filled up with clothes.
My clothes, this time.
Some of the clothes, I clearly remember. Clothes I had been wearing, for various occasions; like the Grand Galloping Gala, the Nightmare Night out and more. Other clothes I could not for my life recall.
Maybe I had worn them; or maybe these are clothes, I should have been wearing later? Since the memories of my former human self is fading; these could be clothes she worn, or should have been wearing.
On closer inspection, everything is made out of Silicon. No fabrics; like cotton, wool, silk or linen.
“That is the Merpony suit I wore for Nightmare night, when Fluttershy came out of her closet and hosted the event!” I ponder; looking at the suit now crafted out of solid, smooth and slippery silicon.
“You need a pool, or pond; in order to properly enjoy this one, you know!” a voice points out, matter of fact, but with an amused giggle to it.
“Whoa?” I exclaim, startled by the voice suddenly sneaking up on me.
Even if it had been there, to explain something I had not realized. The voice evaporates, as it has delivered the message. It is, as if it had never been there. None had entered the room, not even a disembodied spirit.
Where had the voice come from, and why did it explain this right now?
I renew my focus, on what is in my wardrobe. I want to see exactly what I have to work with and what I can wear. It is not because it is cold, or because anyone could see me nude; I just need to wear something, for my own comfort.
Panties and tops hang together, like two-piece bikinis. Gloves and stockings, grouped together; more for practical reasons, as they are matching style and colour. Short tops and skirts, making them into ensembles, rather than singular, separate garments. There are also tight dresses and suits. All intended for indoors use, something I could put on and wear at home.
“Nothing for outdoors use? Well, I guess I could wear these, if it is summer or warm outside!” I ponder.
Of course, I should put something on; but what? There is no special occasion, and it is not cold. Something comfortable and casual should be just fine.
“Cyan, blue and purple!” I exclaim; “These should work well, for me!” I conclude.
Which was I to choose? I could choose, only one.
Since my eye-shadow is cyan and my mane is purple, I end up choosing the blue. Not just as a middle ground, but because it feels like the right choice for me right now.
After considering the options, I pull out the blue panties and step right into them. Metallic electric blue, slippery, elastic and glossy seems to be my choice of the day.
Once I had adjusted the panties, I slip the top down over my head and give it a few tentative tugs, in order to adjust the fit properly.
“That does feel good!” I mumble, to myself.
Since I have put the underwear on, I extract a skirt; stepping into it and carefully pull it into place. Now I extract the top and pull it down, pulling it into place.
With a side-glance, I notice a mirror behind the door I had opened to enter the wardrobe. As I observe my reflection, I see my appearance with the new clothes endowing me. I nod, satisfied with what I see.
Just as the original set of clothes had slipped out, now my clothes slides to the side. I am making room, for the next step in my transformation into the Rarity I had chosen to be.
I sit down, picking up the lip-balm as base for my make-up; applying the balm. As I spot the lip-liner, I draw a line around my lips. Now I pick up the matching; metallic electric blue lip-stick; before I choose a high-finish lip-gloss, applying it and thus seal the work.
I choose the clear base nail-polish and paint my nails, one at the time; from the thumb to the pinkie, center, then right and left. With the base in place, I choose a metallic electric blue lacquer and repeat the process, applying the lacquer. Finally, I apply the high-gloss, hard sapphire top-finish polish.
Once I have finished, I raise to my feet, then push the chair back and step out of my wardrobe. I take a step back and close the wardrobe, leaving the adventure behind me. Since I am all dressed up, I am clearly done here and ready to move on.
As I had closed the wardrobe, I turn towards the door and step out of the room. Once I had closed the door behind me, I lift up my right hand and spread my fingers wide. What I see is my hand, but there is no trace of nail-polish, yet my nails are sapphire blue, glossy and glistering in the light.
