>You are Fiddlesticks
>And right now, you are staring at a ridiculous looking tent...thing.
>Is that embroidery?
>”Why are ya just starin at it like that? Get your flank over here.” Ever since you promised not to harm her, she has been bossy as all hell
>* stare *
>”Stare all ya want, stick man, but yer goin in there, one way or another”
>You shake your head.
>”Then I guess we will have to do this the hard way.” She lets out a sly smile, as she kicks her back hoof into the dirt.
>Oh god, the hard way involves kicking.
>You silently, but visibly, sigh and head towards the carousel styled building.
>”Imanna head back to the farm, You stay out of trouble, ya hear?”
>The door closes behind you.
>As you walk in, you are surrounded by ponies in all forms of rather fancy dress.
>Wait a minute, why are none of these ponies moving?
>You tighten your grip on your scythe, and your eyes begin to glow a bright green.
>If this was a trap, whoever thought they could trap you had another thing coming.
>You hear a high pitched voice in the back room.
>”Sis, the door!”
>”I heard it, Sweetie. Would you be a dear and tell them I'll be out in a moment?” an older, eloquent voice spoke responded.
>The soft pattering of hoof-steps approaches your ear, when the tiniest p0ny you have ever seen approaches you.
>You 2 stare at each other for a good minute.
>You see her little filly chest inflate
>Oh god, you know where this is going.
>She screams.
 
>If you had blood, it would curdle at the sound.
>”Sweetie Belle?!” The door in which the fancy voice resides behind  glows blue for a moment, before swinging open
>A white unicorn with a purple mane runs out of the room.
>She freezes when she sees you.
>The littlest p0ny has stopped screaming.
>Big p0ny looks at little p0ny
>Little p0ny looks at big p0ny.
>You look at little p0ny, then at big p0ny.
>Both p0nies are now staring at you, unblinking.
>Come on, Fiddle, ease the tension.
>“Hello.”
>Smooth.
>Both p0nies look at each other.
>Oh god save your metaphysical ear drums.
>The glass was cracking from their screams.
>”AHHHH!!! MONSTERMONSTERMONSTERMONSTERRUNRUNRARITYRUUUUN!!!” The tiny p0ny takes off, running in circles around the store.
>”GET OUT YOU UNCOUTH RUFFIAN! LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE!” the unicorn's horn begins to glow.
>Well, this usually didn't mean good thi-
>You quickly raise your scythe, and deflect an oncoming projectile.
>Thank god for combat reflexes. If you hadn't have deflected that spool of thread, your death would have been painful and slow.
>Same goes for that bolt of cloth.
>And that pincushion full of needles.
>Whatever this unicorn did for a living, it was definitely clothing related.
>After deflecting the 14th clothing related object, the thought flashes in your mind to slay the walking marshmallow and get it over with.
>But you decided against it, seeing that you needed to be sewn back up.
>And while you could do it yourself, it wasn't optimal.
>You decide maybe you should try to fight with your words for once.
>”Please stop throwing things at me” you plea over the high pitched sound of a screaming filly.
>The whole room seems to freeze. Hey, maybe your request didn't fall on deaf ears.
>”NEVER, YOU UNCOUTH RUFFIAN!” the mare screams, throwing more bolts of cloth and miscellaneous hats in your direction. The filly takes off again, screaming even louder than you thought possible.
>Welp, so much for that plan
>You are quite the wordsmith, Fiddlesticks.
>Fuck off brain, like you could do better.
>The little filly is now dashing throughout the entire store, leaping off of chairs and counters, occasionally tossing more ammo towards the bigger p0ny
>And she never stopped to breathe.
>Seriously, how the hell do these p0nies go without oxygen for so long?
>More clothier supplies fly at you.
>After about 2 minutes of a little filly running around the store screaming bloody murder, and you deflecting miscellaneous tailoring gear, MarshmallowP0ny has finally run out of ammo.
>You lower your scythe
>”Are you done yet? Or would you like me to toss some of these items back so you can throw them at me again?”
>”What... What are you? What are you doing in my shop?” Rarity asks you.
>You look down at your chest, and back at her.
>“You aren't going to attack us, are you?” Her eyebrow cocks
>You shake your head
>”Oh. I see. Perhaps we can get you cleaned up then. I highly doubt you enjoy being that... dirty” she grimaces at the word
 
 
>Well damn, she sewed you up pretty nicely.
>She even let you use her shower.
>You also finally learned what a shower is.
>Indoor plumbing is pretty sweet.
>Not that you really have a need for a toilet.
>But it was nice to be able to clean the mud, blood, and other rather uncouth stains and fluids off of yourself.
>Perhaps that is why the little p0ny starting screaming like it did
>A blood covered scarecrow with a terrifyingly large scythe walks into a tailors shop.
>Sounds like a bad joke in the making, Fid.
>Fuck off, brain.
>Wait, when did you start using that word, Fiddle?
>What word?
>Uncouth.
>Well, brain, I decided to start using the word around the time I narrowly escaped death by bolt of silk.
>The first bolt?
>No, the second.
>Ah.
>You exit the bathroom. Apparently the store is a front, and Rarity lives in the back rooms.
>The rooms are well kept, except the one you only caught a glimpse of, labeled “inspiration room”
>The door quickly shut before you got a better look
>”Now now, a gentlecolt such as yourself should know better than to go snooping through a woman's quarters.”
>Gentlecolt?
>Oh. Right. P0ny world. P0ny words.
>”Well darling, you look positively... ahem... better than before?” Rarity awkwardly smiles.
>* stare *
>”Perhaps... we should do something to make you look a little more...” she clears her throat ”Presentable?”
>* shrug *
>”Oh how wonderful! A makeover will do WONDERS for your rather gruff appearance,”
>You should be offended, but you agree.
>”Besides, I have always loved a challenge”
>Ow, that mare just stabbed you in the non-existent heart.
>You hang your head low, avoiding her gaze.
>”Oh... I... I'm so sorry, dear. I didn't mean to offend.”  
>You raise your head a little, her eyes revealing the genuine nature of her apology.
>You nod.
>”I think I have just the thing for you” she smiles.
>Why does that smile rustle your jimmies?
 
>After around an hour of trying on various outfits, the best she can do is give you a top hat and monocle, and replace your scythe with a fancy looking cane.
>You bow to her to thank her, and then reach into your coi-
>Shit.
>You usually got money by killing champions and their minions.
>When you entered the Fields of Justice, your coin bag would appear when you started the fight.
>You look at your feet.
>”I have no money, I apologize. I will work to pa-” You are interrupted by Rarity.
>”Oh, don't be silly, you don't have to pay!” she exclaims.
>”I feel bad if...”
>”Don't feel bad at all, dear. Consider this reparations for attacking you with bolts of cloth, and referring to you as a ruffian.” She smiles.
>You would smile in response, if it wouldn't cause her to run away in fear.
>She won't take no for an answer.
>That works for you.
>You graciously accept, and take your leave, grabbing your scythe on the way out.
>As you are walking down the moonlit street, you look again at the cane.
>Wow, how did you not notice the massive sapphire on the end?
>You can see your reflection on it.
>As you admire your top hat and monocle for a moment, your reflection's eyes briefly flash blue, a smile creeping along its face.
>You flinch, and hold the cane away from you.
>You are probably just mentally exhausted, and your eyes are playing tricks on you as a result. You used a lot of magic today.
>You simply need to rest your mind a while, an you will be fully cha-
>Wait.
>Where are you going to rest?
>After about 10 minutes of walking, you approach your destination
>The Everfree seems like as good of a place as any.
>Well, good enough for someone of your particular stature.
>You enter far enough in where the p0nyfolk arent going to bother you, but not so far as to be eaten by whatever monsters lie within the heavily wooded forest..
>You clear your mind, and quickly fall into a mind-numbing stupor.