An AU MLP humanized blog, following Rarity, in a world where the sonic rainboom never happened.
A promising fashion student, her simplistic designs were well received at first, but were passed over for the more flashy designs. Unable to get her start and her confidence wounded, Rarity swore to one day get her dream to go big, if only she could get that chance again. Her cutie mark is now a needle through a cog, as her talent is for designing and creating fine details in fabric.
Rarity, now an assistant shopkeeper in a furniture store, now lives her life day-dreaming and sketching, obsessively planning to seize the day with her fashion... if only she could create a design that would be good enough in her eyes.
((All art is done by me, unless marked otherwise, all out of character posts will be marked appropriately.
I will probably RP with you as a human or humanoid, regardless of your original species, unless marked or asked otherwise, just for ease of RP.
Please feel free to ask any questions you'd like either IC or OOC.))
Rarity moved from day to day, quiet. Wordless. From Work to home. Nothing more, nothing less.
Her quality of appearance dropped, shambling to work looking more and more disheveled each day.
At first Mr. Cogsworth was relieved, no more having to chastise Rarity for taking too frequent or overlong breaks, catching her curled up in the backstock sketching designs. He started to get concerned when Rarity had stopped carrying her notebook, and pencils all together.
A month had passed, and she had disintegrated into a zombie-state. The turn around for the shop was amazingly fast, but the passion was gone. The quiet filching of fabric scraps when she thought Mr. Cogsworth wasn’t watching was gone. The muttering to herself over fashion magazines was gone.
She was there in body, but not in mind.
One day, after a particularly short day at the shop, Rarity stumbles home. Her hair in a tired looking bun, and her clothing still professional, but very… flat and lifeless. Without Joie de vivre.
Rarity didn’t know how long she had spent on the kitchen floor, curled up, moving only to feed and water Opal. The cat having taken up house on Rarity’s hip, Rarity lay unmoving, watching the beam of sunlight that slipped through the crack in her heavy curtains, slide slowly across the room until the room dipped into darkness again.