Title:           In an inner-town bar called “Cat’s Rest," Rarity was sitting cross-legged a
Author:          Anonymous
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/gF6TZ1cY
First Edit:      Sunday 13th of November 2016 02:44:50 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Sunday 13th of November 2016 02:44:50 PM CDT

In an  inner-town bar called “Cat’s Rest," Rarity was sitting cross-legged at a table. Between her fingers -- although it looked like she was holding it between her long painted nails -- she held an overly adorned white cup of green tea, occasionally resting it on the matching saucer that sat on the leaf green tablecloth that covered the Edwardian-style table before her.  
She was sipping on her tea as she listened to her friends’ banter after their latest band practice as the "Rainbooms."
“Ah swear, if Ah practice ‘Jonny Ah Hardly Knew Ya’ one more time, I’m gonna resign,” Applejack said, holding her steaming hot cup of chocolate in her hands, shoulders arched forward as if she was trying to defend her hot drink from any kind of would-be predator wishing to take an unauthorized sip.
“Oh, c’mon!” Rainbow Dash said as she spread her arms open dejectedly, a can of cheap Czech beer in front of her. “People just love it when we play it at parties!”
Applejack groaned and glared at Rainbow Dash from under her hat.
“We played and sang it at one party only once, Dash, and everybody was goin’ to cut their wrist or get a new set of eardrums when we were done,” Applejack said before taking a big sip and slowly putting the cup back on the table, leaving a trace of molten chocolate on her upper lip. “‘sides, we have been playin’ at parties for, what, two months?”
Rarity put her right hand over her mouth, forcing herself to suppress a chuckle.
“Yes, we indeed have been doing this for far too little time to tell what most peoples’ taste in music is, or what might be a pleasant middle ground, for that matter.” Rarity said, taking a small, almost calculated, sip from her cup, clicking her tongue a couple of times to savour its very delicate and sweet taste. “But at least we know that older dance songs are not a well-known or widely-appreciated genre of music.”
“Well, why do you think Ren-nain-sance Fairs are so unpopular with people?”
“Those would be called ‘Renaissance Fairs,' Dash, my dear friend.” Rarity answered, before letting out a sigh, lightly stirring her tea with the mere shaking of the cup. “And, most of the time, it is because the costumes look quite silly to most. You know very well how I see them and the time period they are related to.”
“Whatever Rares,” Rainbow Dash as she crossed her arms and pouted a little in typical Rainbow style. “I know that you like that kind of boring and stuffy stuff. I was just trying to make it clear.”
“I was and am aware,” Rarity said with a small chuckle, slowly putting the cup down on the table, glancing at the leaves at the bottom of the cup before re-establishing eye contact with her friends. “I mean, I do not particularly like rave parties and electronic music, unlike you and Pinkie, but I do not think I have complained, when we tried to play for Vinyl Scratch’s birthday.”
“She kinda saved us from the Dazzlings' magical singing, that’s about the least we could’ve done.” Rainbow Dash frowned and shrugged to the point of burying her neck in her small shoulders. “Don’cha think so?”
Applejack nodded in agreement “Yeah.”
“Point taken,” Rarity said, putting down the spoon and then grabbing the cup again to take another sip, leaving only a few drops and the leaves behind. “Still, we could have refused. It would not have been a display of towering intellect or gratitude, but we could have, on the grounds that we did not play that particular genre of music.. or that we do not particularly appreciate it and we would prefer to not insult her.”
“Yeah. Like, Ah would do that, if Ah was asked to come play music by that guy...” Applejack muttered as she looked left and right with a menacing glare, taking an even more arched posture. “He gives me the shivers, not only for his tastes in music.”
Rainbow Dash leaned her head sideways and arched her eyebrows, while Rarity silently stared.
“Who are you talking about, AJ?”
“Y’know… Lemon Turner and his half-Carribean half-Rock creepy song about his creepy obsession.” Applejack said. “Not only it’s painful to hear, it’s….”
Applejack visibly shivered and shook her head while Rainbow Dash visibly cringed.
“Ah don’t wanna think about it,” She said, rapidly slurping the last of her chocolate in one go.
Rarity reclined her head on her shoulder, looking at Applejack inquisitively, unsure about the gripes her friend had with the song and the person liking it.
“I do not think  I have heard of him or that song in particular. May I ask what is it about?” Rarity asked, to which Applejack shook her right index and clicked her tongue.
“I’ll explain it... I guess,” Rainbow Dash said after a deep sigh as she held her right hand over her chest.
“You see, there’s this guy, called Lemon Turner,” Rainbow Dash broke eye contact with Rarity and gripped on the beer can. “He used to go to our school, and, well, he was one of the popular guys, always trendy, always walking along the best girls. Y’know, that kind of stuff.”
"'Used to’?” Rarity said as she put her hand over her chin and bent her back forward to better hear Dash’s words. “What happened? Tell me more, please.”
Rainbow Dash squeezed the beer can, causing her beer to spray a little across the table and on Dash’s shirt. Her face turned into a scowl and she briefly turned around to fake-spit on the floor.
“He told to one of his close friends -- I think it was Roseluck -- that he really wanted to touch his little sister and that he had some problems with keeping it in his pants around children. At first, she had promised not to say anything,” Rainbow Dash let out a small snarl. “But, thankfully, Roseluck later spilled the beans to Sunset Shimmer in return for some cash, and Sunset, for the first and last time before meeting Twilight from the portal, did a good thing and basically rallied up most of the school to chase him out.”
Hearing these words, Rarity felt her heart sink as she recoiled and scowled, briefly setting her hands over her breasts before rapidly putting them down on the table again. She felt struck to the very core by that statement as she was reminded of certain likings and fantasies she had.
“Um… where is he exactly?” Rarity asked, forcing herself to not show insecurity in such a time and in front of her friend talking like that.
“Since his parents had money to spare, he enrolled in Crystal Prep after somebody had photoshopped his face onto a drawing of an orc and wrote, ‘Do not let this sicko close to children,’ under it and then glued that all over the place.” Rainbow Dash let out a little snicker, before scowling once again. “One wonders if Crystal Prep isn’t trying to look like this town’s school for scumbags, or if the building itself attracts guys like him and that nutcase of a principal, Abacus Cinch.”
Rarity forced herself to chuckle.
“Ehehe… yes, that is true, very true…”
“Still, as you can guess, Lemon ain’t gonna walk anywhere close to the school for a loooonng time. Not to mention, just to be sure he isn’t raping children, lotsa people spy on him.” Rainbow Dash continued. “As for his music taste, he likes a band called ‘Oingo Boingo’ or something like that, and they sing songs that mix pop rock and caribbean-like music and one of them is about a guy chasing little girls’ skirts and trying to say he ain’t the bad guy for it.”
Rarity grinned and nodded, her mind not too keen on thinking about the musical tastes of a young man she had never met and, yet, at the same time, sounded familiar… too familiar.
Not feeling comfortable any longer, Rarity looked up at the fancy wooden wall clock behind the bar’s counter, just before dramatically slapping her forehead.
“Oh dear, it’s really late!” Rarity said, as she hastily grabbed a couple of bills from her pursue in her skirt’s pocket and slammed them on the table. “I must get going. Bye Applejack!  Bye Rainbow Dash!”
Both Rarity’s friends jumped up, a little startled, before staring confused at her.
“Um… see ya tomorrow?”
“Bye, Rares!”
And Rarity waved her right hand towards them, not even turning around as she quickly stepped out of the bar into the half-empty street at sunset.
In an Art Decò-styled suburban villa, inside her small-ish bedroom, Rarity was rolling in her bed under the silky sheets, in an attempt to find  comfort that kept escaping her. Her hip, enveloped inside a padded, nightly underwear worn under her crimison nightwear, gave off soft crinkles, ones that in any other situation would've soothed her and brought her weary heart gladness. But that night, that day, the crinkles were only a taunting -- if not cruel -- testament of her inner struggle and deepest thoughts.
"What do I really wish?" She whispered to herself, just after a single roll. "In light of that, who am I?"
Rarity thought that she was happy and content with being a teenage girl growing up in an adult woman. She was a lover -- and aspiring designer and maker -- of fashion, of History, of the art of music both old and recent.
In all, one could say that she had a good personality and balanced interests.
Now... now she wasn't all that sure about said balance.
She had realized that her fantasies tended to slowly shift away from the sculptured bodies of film actors or good-looking boys her age, to little boys whose age could be counted on a single hand. Imagining them looking up at her, eyes wide, faces with nary a hair or a pimple, a demeanor of crystal-clear vulnerability, enticed Rarity just as much as imaging to enjoy contact with a handsome man.
Back when they first appeared, when she was eleven, she had not taken heed at her fantasies and weird feelings at first, believing them to be mere sparks of unusual sexual desire caused by her raging and ill-balanced hormones. She was sure that it was going to pass and disappear like ashes in volcanic sand, or to at least leave an unimpressive mark on Rarity’s personal history, another of her efforts to defeat demons born of lust for power, like the Dazzlings and their deamonic flying seahorse forms, desire for knowledge coupled with lack of inhibitions like Twilight Sparkle's alter ego Midnight Sparkle, or plain and simple lack of certain moral values, like old Sunset Shimmer.
But, as time passed, her fantasies about little boys regularly came back like swallows to their young, and she began to have doubts about herself and her morality. Until that point, though, they had not been more than a few passing thoughts, thoughts that occupied her mind during night so silent that she could not sleep properly. Rainbow Dash’s account of Lemon Turner’s story was just the straw that broke the camel’s back on the matter.
"Am I... a kiddy fiddler? A-a paedophile?" she asked to herself, biting her lip lightly as she rolled around. "I-is part of my lust really directed at the ones incapable of feeling it? N-no... that can't be right. I-if I were, I would have kidnapped and violated one already, like in the stories… right?"
Now sitting up , Rarity looked up at the ceiling weakly, smiling, her uneasiness slowed but not properly contained. Rarity’s grin vanished, and she bowed her head slowly, silently staring at the floor while she felt the preoccupation inside her take the forefront. Rarity shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes as she felt her heart clenching and her own soul wince as if it had been ripped off and crumpled into a ball like waste paper.
"Who am I kidding?  I am just waiting for the time to strike. For a crying little boy to come looking for his mommy or for a toddler that has just started toilet training to innocently ask me for a candy from a bag I am eating from.” Rarity's tears grew in size, as they started to slowly run down her cheeks and as she began to sob. "I am just waiting for that to happen, so that I may fool some crying little one into thinking that I am going to give him back to his mother, all while I silently plan how to abuse his tender body. I am just waiting to make the young child think I have a van full of delicious treats jus --"
Rarity roared and gave herself a mighty slap, leaving a red mark behind on her snow white skin before shaking her head.
“You aren’t even sure, and you already think that lowly of yourself?” She scolded herself, forcing back her tears. “I mean, what do you really know about this? I mean, besides the worst and most obvious part? Absolutely nothing, that’s the answer!”
Rarity reflected in silence. The rustling of the leaves outside and an owl’s call were the only sounds loud enough to break the otherwise perfect peaceful silence of the night, reminding her just how late in the night it was.
Once the few tears she had shed had dried off enough, Rarity sighed, as she fully sat up, pulled off her red pyjama trousers, and stared at the window  for a full minute of reflection.
“Yes, I actually know very little about this, I should really do my research, before spouting such terrifying nonsense about myself.” she said, before she laid down, violently dragging the covers over her and laying on her chin, closing her eyes.
“That is, if tomorrow morning I will still pose this question to myself,” she muttered, mere minutes before fully falling asleep.
Not too long after Dawn in robe of saffron had hastened from the peaks of the high mountains, Rarity had already prepared herself for another day in her life as a student, but her mind was not forgetful of its own duels.
In any other day, at such an hour, Rarity’s mind would have been mostly concentrated on the lesson at hand, taking notes, carefully listening to the teacher’s words and- if the occasion to do so presented itself- mentally repeat the most complex concepts of the explanation currently ongoing and, if really in need, ask the teacher for clarifications.
But on that day, that particular day, Rarity- with her hands joined together in a way that formed some kind of stand for her chin- was staring at the teacher scribbling the essential concepts of Cartesian and Pascalian Philosophy, but she was not absorbing any of the information presented to her, for her mind was traveling somewhere else, in a place closer to the Hyperuranium.
“What if… what if not doing… ‘that’ was not part of the provisional morality?” Rarity thought, before rapidly slapping herself with her left hand, shaking her head afterward.
“Concentrate! This is not the time or place to think about that!” She muttered to herself, as she undid the hand stand and grabbed both pen and paper, rapidly writing down some notes for the current lesson, which was about Pascal’s God’s Bet.  As she listened to the teacher explaining it, Rarity’s mind could not help but subconsciously make connections about her own personal experiences, of the times she had to face all-or-nothing situations- even if on topics of a much smaller importance and magnitude- something that was helping her to keep her mind distracted from what was that time’s most dreaded topic.
Then the hour’s end bell rang, and the teacher let out a loud sigh, as he closed the book from which he was reading from with a single flop of his right hand and- after swiftly taking the register with his free hand- left the room, dryly saying “Have a good rest of the day.”
All of a sudden, the relatively disciplined silence that had reigned up to that point in the classroom was dethroned, replaced by a bustling chatter that made Rarity snap out of her concentration harder than the bell had. With her mind once again free, it went back to thinking about the terrifying subject of her liking.
“Quick! Talk with somebody!” She muttered to herself, as lewd images from her fantasy heavily distorted by her apprehension played in the back of her head. She kept looking, seeing Fluttershy busy in furiously scribbling what Rarity assumed were notes taken from  Billy Cobra’s exercise book;  Drama Letter and Sunset rapidly stacking up books and pencil cases on their desks to make a wall against the upcoming teacher; Twilight silently reading from a book; and Velvet Sky both holding a packed conversation with Octavia  and scribbling notes at the same time.
“Alright, let us get to Twilight, she seems to be only one that is not really busy,” Rarity muttered to herself, as she strode through the alley between desks to Twilight’s seat, which was in the front row close to the door. As she did so, the horrible and yet enticing images kept flashing in her mind all the way through, causing her to bite on her lip and quickly and nervously poke Twilight’s shoulder, in turn causing Twilight to jolt up- sending her glasses off her nose onto the desk’s surface- and gasp.
“Ah!” Twilight said, as rapidly put her glasses back on her nose and turned around towards Rarity with a faint blush. “You scared me!”
“Oh, sorry Twilight, I did not mean to do so,” Rarity said with a small forced grin on her face as she sat on the empty chair nearby with a fluid and elegant movement of hips and arms. “I just wanted to salute you.”
“Oh! Okay then,” Twilight said, nervously giggling, as she adjusted her glasses again and delicately set her fallen book on the desk’s top. “Do you need anything?”
Rarity strongly wished to state that she was just desperate to talk with somebody to shoo away her current worries, but she bit her lip and squinted her eyes, briefly looked away and then turned around to face Twilight again.
“Well… um, you see... “ She said, mumbling as she tried to come up with a topic to use to strike up a conversation with Twilight, fiddling with her fingers at lighting speed. Twilight kept adjusting her glasses, looking down at the floor silently.
Feeling the awkwardness between her and Twilight and the tension inside her rising, Rarity had an idea to both talk until the teacher arrived and have a clue about what she had asked herself the night before.
“Um… Twilight, I know that you dislike to be thought as an omnidisciplinarian gal, but…” Rarity blushed a little at the thought of asking that, but she gathered her strength and spoke up. “Do you happen to have a psychiatry catalogue? You know, like some kind of list of the most common mental illnesses... you see, it is for a story I am writing.”
Twilight chuckled weakly as she rose her head and turned her head three quarters towards Rarity.
“Actually, I do. My brother tried his hand in the subject and he had bought a catalogue, before deciding that psychology and or psychiatry weren’t his call at all,” she said. “I could lend you the catalogue, or any other book on the subject, if you want to. Even this afternoon, if you wish so.”
“Oh? Well, that’s interesting and, yes, I would like to pick it up as soon as I can,” Rarity said, before noticing the teacher’s shape looming from the door. “But now I must be back at my seat. Bye!”
And, with that, like a deer in a meadow, Rarity returned to her desk and sat down, ready to fully focus herself on the lesson at hand.