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Who: Rarity, anyone who'd like to visit
What: In the wake of sudden appearances and disappearances, Rarity's just trying to find some sense of normality. This, of course, means fashion work.
Where: Carousel Boutique, Traverse Town location
When: After the fourth wall event ends, afternoon
Warnings: None so far.

Rarity was, at the moment, doing everything she could to keep herself busy. She hadn't truly expected everypony who showed up in that large group to stay - the dream was simply too odd for anything like that to happen.

Then again, she hadn't expected any of her longtime friends to leave either. Jaime and Point Man had gone home a good while ago, true, and she'd known Chell was planning on moving out - she just hadn't thought Chell would leave the dream entirely.

Yet here she was with only Emile left in the house. She had been keeping a closer eye on him than he really needed, and so she'd excused herself to her studio to try to work. With any luck, a bit of design work would keep her attention well enough to calm her down.

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Things just felt weird around here, now. After everything had been so busy, so hectic... it seemed strange to think that this was the way things had been even not so long ago.

Still, it'd be nice to at least have someone to talk to about things.

"Hey... anyone home?" Kanji called as he walked into the boutique, looking around, checking out what was in progress as ever. It was only the new people who'd woken up... right?

Spike bounced up to the front door as soon as the bell rang. Oh, good, it's you! Come help his person, she's all sad and that's not okay. The Pricklemane grabbed the knee of Kanji's pants in its teeth and did its best to drag him towards the workroom. C'mon c'mon c'mon!

Luckily, Rarity came out before Spike could pull too hard. "Kanji!" She greeted him with a bright, genuine smile - it was good to see that somepony she knew was still here. "How are you?" And then, to her Spirit, "That's enough, Spike."

"Whoa, whoa!" Kanji couldn't help but let out, as Spike's attention pulled him off balance. Seriously, his pants didn't have that much give in them, that was close... Okay, coming! It wasn't like he really needed to be dragged, anyway, he'd have made his way there as soon as he knew where she was hanging out.

"I'm doin' pretty good," he replied to her inquiry, smiling back. "How 'bout you?"

Spike let go of Kanji's pants and plopped down against a wall, watching the conversation. C'mon, this person is supposed to make his person feel better. Hurry up and do it already!

The smile faltered, but only for a moment. "I've been better," she admitted, "but it could be worse, so I suppose it all evens out."

Aw, hell. He had a sneaking suspicion. "...Is this 'cause of Rainbow Dash wakin' up with the others?" he asked, his tone quieter than usual and sympathetic with it. Honestly, he didn't have much of a good idea who was still around, but ... yeah, he'd have noticed if she was.

"Not quite," Rarity replied, flashing that slightly damaged smile again. "Rainbow went back to Ponyville, and I know I'll see her again when I wake up." Her smile faltered again, and Rarity gave up on pretense and dropped it entirely. "Chell woke up too," she admitted. "We didn't talk much about where she's from, but I don't think it's a very nice place, and...well. I do hope she's alright."

But Chell had gone someplace where Rarity couldn't go, couldn't help her, probably wouldn't even see her again, and that was what was bothering her.

"...Damn." Admittedly, he barely knew Chell, but ... she was one of them. More than that, a friend's friend. Hearing that last detail - he looked down at the ground, almost not being able to stand seeing Rarity in that state.
"Yeah. Yeah, I hope so too. She's tough, though, right?" It wasn't the best reassurance, though, and he knew it.

Rarity took a breath and let it out slowly. Now she was making Kanji sad, and that simply would not do. "She is. She'll be alright. I'm certain of it." Eventually, she might even convince herself of that. Right now, assuring Kanji would have to be good enough.

He gave her a nod in return, solid, confident. Right. And in any case, what could he do for her now? Best just wish for the best.
"That's good."

My goodness, what an adorable little building! Minnie was still getting used to this strange place, and so took to traveling every so often. She decided to enter this particular place out of cheer curiosity.

Knock knock. "Hello?"

Spike the Pricklemane came bounding down the hall when the bell above the door jangled. Hi! Who're you?

Rarity followed a few moments later, a bright smile on her face. "Welcome to the Carousel Boutique! How may I help you?" A new customer deserved her best hoof forwards, regardless of how she was feeling.

What adorable creatures! Thank goodness one of them could speak. Minnie smiled - her own Meow Wow was outside, rolling around. Minnie curtsied politely, bowing her head. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Queen Minnie Mouse of the Disney Kingdom."

Now, with the formalities out of the way, she could be a giddy schoolgirl. "This place looked so absolutely darling, I had to come in and see for myself!"

Rarity swept into a low bow - not quite as low as she would have for one of the princesses, but visiting royalty did deserve respect. "My name is Rarity. It's lovely to meet you, Your Majesty."

She straightened up and brightened considerably at the compliment. "Why, thank you! I do what I can, and the Moogles do have quite the variety of decor if you'll know who to ask."

She waved a dismissive hand as she walked around the boutique, admiring the pretty designs out on display. "Minnie, please, just Minnie will do... and I never thought I'd see one of these around here! Do you make all of these beautiful clothes?"

She hoped that was a yes. As much as she enjoyed her royal gown, one tired of wearing the same thing a few... decades in a row.

Roxas poked his head in tentatively, holding a medium-sized box.

"Uh, where did you want this?" he asked, indicating the box. He was still learning the shop and didn't want to mess anything up.

"Oh!" Roxas was quiet enough that she'd almost forgotten he was here, helping. "Bring it here, please. I don't think I remembered to label this one."

Roxas had done his best to be quiet and not disturb Rarity. She had seemed really busy and he didn't want to disturb her or cause trouble. While Roxas was good at odd jobs, he did have his klutzy moments and he was determined not to let that mess things up.

"Here it is," he said, carrying the box in and setting it down in front of her. "I haven't checked what's inside it. I think it's cloth or something."

Emile, for his part, had gone even more quiet than usual after Jun had left. Nothing new there, having experienced the same with Kat just a few months ago, but he'd thought that maybe since Jun was still alive--

No. Of course not. But it still hurt.

After Rarity had been down in the workshop a while, making plenty of noise (perhaps, he suspected, so he'd know she was still there), he made an appearance halfway down the stairs, just sitting in his armor and watching. Clearly he was thinking about something, but he didn't really say what, just keeping an eye on her as she worked.

Or maybe he was napping. It was hard to tell with that armor on.

It was a testament to just how upset Rarity was over her friends' disappearances that she hadn't mentioned the "no armor in the house" rule at all. She was simply grateful Emile was still here.

She finished her stitch and tied it off before turning towards the stairs. "Emile, dear? How are you feeling?"

He shrugged at her question - guess he was awake after all. They'd beat the Nightmares, sure, but people had left all the same. Even the weird roommate with the portal gun.

"Still here."

Avoiding the question. Not a good sign, but then, talking about his feelings was not exactly his strong point. Hell, he was never even supposed to have feelings. There were plenty of people who thought Spartans didn't.

Normally, Rarity would call his bluff and try to continue the conversation. Normally, Rarity would not take that sort of evasion for an answer. Then again, normally Rarity wasn't feeling quite this badly.

She trotted up the stairs, stopping just below Emile, as the staircase wasn't quite wide enough to accommodate them both. She magicked up a cushion, set it neatly on the stairs, and took a seat. "So am I." She laid a hoof gently on his knee. "They might come back. It's happened before, after all." Never in these circumstances, but nonetheless.

Emile gently tapped the hoof in response, though prolonged physical contact wasn't exactly his thing. But still. It was a gesture. He should acknowledge it.

"Not countin' on it. Jun's--" he hastily edited not dead, remembering how that had upset Rarity before, into "got somethin' good to look forward to when he wakes up. Bringing up the next generation of Spartans."

He exhaled loudly. And Jun had to do it all alone because Emile and the others were too dead to help.

To her credit, Rarity didn't wince when Emile paused. She knew exactly what he'd been about to say, and she'd long since come to terms with it - well enough that she didn't have to go lie down when the subject came up, that is.

What she didn't have was context for what exactly a Spartan was, aside from the fact that Emile and his friends were all Spartans and that the Freelancers, by contrast, were not. She and Emile didn't talk much about his past, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to change that.

Maybe later. Not right now.

"That's good to hear," she tried, falling silent. Conversation wasn't working, and she'd rather they not stay sad like this. It was time to change tactics.

"Go get changed," she told him, tapping his knee again. "I'm going to bake a pie, and I want you to help me." It was a very spur-of-the-moment decision - very Pinkie Pie - but it was better than nothing, and if it worked for Pinkie, why wouldn't it work for them too?

It was probably for the best that he didn't have to explain concepts like child soldier and genocide to Rarity, so he was happy not discussing it if she was happy not to bring it up. He still needed an actual shrink, though. That part wasn't liable to change.

"A pie? And you want my help," he said dubiously, since Emile really sincerely doubted that his skills could in any way improve a baked good. But hey, if she was insisting....

A few minutes later, he made his way down to the kitchen in civvies.

It was less of an actual need for assistance and more of a distraction, really, but she didn't need to tell Emile that. "Yes, I do! Come down when you're ready."

By the time Emile made it to the kitchen, Rarity had already laid out the ingredients for a blueberry pie and was measuring flour into a bowl while Spike studiously licked flour from his nose. (How he'd gotten it on there and nowhere else was anypony's guess.) "Oh, good, you're here!" She magicked open a drawer on the other side of the kitchen. "Be a dear and bring me the rolling pin, please."

Emile hunted for the rolling pin a moment before grabbing it. He flipped it up and down a few times in his hands as he brought it over to her, setting it down next to her and observing the ingredients. He's still not sure about all this, but at least it's something to do.

And he could always eat pie. Maybe two or three pies.

"You got the pans already? What should I do?"

Even did not care for having clothing turn up in his lab that didn't belong to him. It didn't, as he discovered after some investigation, seem to be the property of either of his housemates, either. Failing an easy answer (and also failing having his Spirits track the scent - they seemed entirely uninterested in the fact that someone had clearly been in his house), he elected to go investigate for himself.

And the clothing store was as good a place to start as any. At the very least, the owner was bound to be the kind of person who noticed other people's clothes.

"Hello," he managed in a curt nod to manners before getting down to (at the moment, strictly figurative) brass tacks. "Do you know who owns this shirt?"

Whether or not Rarity approved of his clothing depended entirely on her feelings about the lavender-ascot-and-lab-coat aesthetic.

Spike the Pricklemane came ambling to the front when the bell over the door jangled. Oh, he's seen you around before! You'd better not be rude to his person.

Rarity trotted out a moment afterwards, covering her surprise with a smile. Truth be told, she hadn't expected to ever see Even in her boutique. Stranger things had happened, however. "Hello! Do come inside. How can I help you?"

With detective work, evidently. Rarity magicked the shirt out of his hands and turned it this way and that, inspecting it, brow slightly furrowed. "It isn't one of mine," she commented, "though judging from the size and the style, I'd say it could belong to one of several people here. Might I ask why you want to know?" She wouldn't give him a definitive answer without receiving one from him first. She didn't think he'd do anything bad - she just knew that some of her friends weren't...equipped to deal with grumpy dispositions, and she would not facilitate that sort of interaction.

"I found it," Even said crankily. "In my room, to be precise. I assume someone put it there deliberately, since I can't see any way it could have turned up there by accident, but I have no idea who or why. Or, for that matter, how. Regardless, I certainly have no use for it." Except possibly to clean up chemical spills, but he'd rather have some answers.

Myosin squeaked a greeting to his fellow Pricklemane. Hihi! Are our Persons going to be friends?

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