Constellations and Their Relation to Doing Dishes, Or Crescent's Guide to Marriage (Closed: Rosewind)

[Rosewind]

Velvet smiled as her love made his way into the kitchen, still steaming with moisture from his bath. Crescent was such a lovely, supportive stallion -- a true bastion of romance, strength of body, calm of mind, and certainly a whole of companionship. Her heart quickened in pace as she gave him a smooch on his damp nose, motioning with a lightly manicured hoof to the table. The vase stood like a grim idol over the kitchen, its shadow cast long amidst the cheerful morning sunlight through draperies with no ribbons. [colour=#9966CC]"Daisy Puffs™ with yogurt, and orange juice freshly...squished! Scooshed? Smushed?" [/colour]Velvet placed her hoof to her chin, looking down to the floor. She was a writer, first-most to her clothier trade, and words were her tapestry to weave stories of legend and grace....just not this early in the morning.

She lowered her left ear as she observed her husband down the cereal with all due haste. Her features flattened as he flattered her with the usual compliments. She smiled, brushing her white-and-lavender striped tail over his rump with a playful flick. [colour=#9966CC]"You'll have to learn to lie better, sweetie. We both shouldn't live in denial like this." [/colour]Ouch. [colour=#9966CC]"I'm just glad your sense of smell came back after the waffles. We were both worried for a while." [/colour]She smiled at him dreamily, willing to let this one pass. However, as a wife and mare, a warning shot was still a requirement of nuptial pact. [colour=#9966CC]"I'll have to make it up to you by packing your lunch while you enjoy your juice." [/colour]She magically lifted the cup, which heavily plopped in front of the blue stallion. The orange was thoroughly eviscerated, its pulpy, bright contents squashed between bits of rind and minute puddles of juice, all languishing at the bottom of the glass. [colour=#9966CC]"Go on! You know the doctor said you needed more vitamins, and fiber. They're all there! Unless you'd like to eat some of my sewing projects. You'll get plenty of fiber from those."[/colour] She smiled and turned her back to him, knowing full well that the glass would be empty next time she turned to observe her love. Or else.

Velvet nosed through the pantry. Why did cooking involve so much...cooking? Dried beans, dried fruit, oatmeal, flour, sugar, and a jar of pickled damsons were available. Pickled damsons. Velvet once held a lovely tea party for some of her business contacts in Canterlot. It was not a posh affair, but more of an awkward take of country life that wasn't very down-home at all. The result of this was the sale of several specialty fabrics, a recipe for potato salad, and a leftover jar of the pickled, unripe fruit that she had made in an attempt to impress one of Canterlot's fashionistas. Those country bumpkins in the valley certainly knew how to jar and can produce for winter, but nonesuch was necessary in the comforts of Canterlot. It was a perishing craft, and one that Velvet would never revive. She grabbed the jar and stuffed it into a brown paper bag, turning to face Crescent with a smile. [colour=#9966CC]"Yes, let's!"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Her reminder that they shouldn't live in denial would have been useful had previous experiences with her aptly informed him that she was a mare not to be informed of her most egregious mishaps directly, as a barrage of pillows and a night on the couch awaited her valiant husband who did so. He wasn't good at lying, this was a hard truth he wasn't all that unhappy with, but he'd rather her roll her eyes and get on him for living in sweet denial than get pummeled in the face once more, twice more, thrice more and a dozen times over. His poor back couldn't take that beaten down couch anymore anyway. And on days when his snout had to take in the intriguing odors of his wife's creative culinary designs, he almost wished he didn't have the sense of smell. It would have meant losing out on some truly fine things in life but how fine a thing was life itself when certain parts of it made you regret living life?

He gulped down the glass of poison or something similar like he would some unchased hard cider, quick and fast and with as little of it inflicting harm on his taste buds as possible. He levitated the glass down and allowed time to go on as he thought about flowers, puppy dogs, a beautiful constellation, his wife's lovely laugh and watching the stars with Twilight for the first time. It worked well enough and he was able to bulldoze on through the 'food' and swallowed it down, a lump of mixed

evil sliding down his throat and coating it with a thick slime. The sacrifices one made for love, and more importantly, not wanting to see your wife cry any more like

when he was honest with her as a young couple. Honesty was almost never the best policy, despite all the moralizing and good intentions of his own parents.

[colour=#800000]"Ahh, yes. I can feel the fiber coursing through my loins,"[/colour] he muttered with a simple laugh, bringing a fashionable saddle levitated from the closet and onto his back, strapped in and tight. He wasn't sure why they were fashionable but he had been conditioned successfully to not question these things,[colour=#800000] "and so we're off,"[/colour] and indeed not a moment later the door flew open and he cantered out into the brilliant early morning sun that fought a gallant battle against the chilly air that was little more than a careless leftover of Luna's night. Weather pegasi, who needed them?

[colour=#800000]"So my love, what do you have in mind? I was thinking we could perhaps give her a copy of Advanced Magic for the Naturally Talented. Such a shame what happened to that one,"[/colour] He said, casually glancing above at the stars. It had been one of her standard texts alongside Advanced Magic or Young Unicorns, a bit more adventurous and experimental. Consequently, it had not been as popular, but valuable notes and history had been lost when Spike had accidentally burned it all to ash as a little one. Twilight was far past the stage of her life where such a tome would hold any value for the future, but as a piece of sentiment and possibly correction for future generations, it held value far beyond it's cost.

"How about you?"

[Rosewind]

Velvet shook her head, her horn glowing its light lavender aura. Crescent's saddle bag flipped open, and the brown paper bag -- burdened with the pickled damsons -- plopped unceremoniously inside. The fruits and their...pickling liquid...sloshed around like rain water vomiting out of a gutter, or perhaps the awful sound an egg makes when it falls to the floor and bursts open into a splotch of yellow-and-clear slime. She smooched his cheek, fetching her own saddle bag from the closet. It was fashioned from white leather -- so that it would compliment her light grey coat -- the clasp a skillful carving of her starry cutie mark. Yes, it was excessive. The Sparkles were not certainly a family to flaunt wealth, power, or whatever it was that Nobles that they lived with in Canterlot liked to show off, but that didn't mean they couldn't indulge once in a while, just as well as any other humble-yet-well-to-do family might.

She snuggled the saddle bag down, flicking the side open. A small rag doll popped out of the crafts pile. [colour=#9966CC]"I remember our daughter-in-law once gave Twili a doll that looked like this. I bet by now she's lost it, so I thought I'd make her a new one. I really do like the idea with the books, by the way. That dragon and his breath problem..." [/colour]Velvet trailed off, and nudged her husband's flank with a bump from her own, her not-so-subtle way of giving her love positive reinforcement. The rest of the crafts popped out of the pile -- tea cozies, scarves, and several quad-pairs of socks. She smiled, her saddlebags now brimming with gifts for her children. [colour=#9966CC]"Yes, let's be off![/colour]" Velvet followed her husband outside, squinting her aqua-coloured eyes as she acclimated to the morning light and air. Her lungs stung from the slight chill of the morning, and she looked up at the bastions of the not-so-far-off Canterlot castle, in all of its splendor and beauty. She broke into a trot, then froze, her eyes flicking sideways to meet her husband's gaze.

[colour=#9966CC]"...Honey, did you remember to turn off the bath water?"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Twilight would never admit it, but she had a streak of nostalgia that was proven by smarty pants. She had kept it with her as she grew when many her age ditched such foalish little comforts. It had been one of the more charming aspects of her personality; such a wise mare hid a nostalgic streak that as a parent he was more than happy to indulge. Well, in this case, THEY were happy to indulge. By the time the day was through their daughter would have two gifts to stoke the fires of her heart in the warmest ways possible. His gift may have had more practical use, but he had a sneaking suspicion that in secret his gift would not be the one curling up alongside her to bring her comfort on a cold night. Crescent smiled and kissed his wife on the cheek as they trotted in the slowly trickling street.

[colour=#800000]"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Velvey. I'm sure she'll love it. Hopefully she won't think that we're trying to compete with Cadance," [/colour]he started as he sidestepped a puddle, [colour=#800000]"which we are, but she doesn't need to know that!" [/colour]He chuckled. The sun was now bold and bright as it danced in warm, light shading across the street, vendors and the well to do starting to set up their day's routine. The noise started to rise above the din of nature's retreat and it wouldn't be long before getting your voice heard not counting your partner would be impossible. Not the best situation for a gentle stroll, but you learned to tune it all out in favour of more pleasing sounds from your wife.

And every so often she came up with a gem. She had a mini heart stoppage as she asked if the water had been turned off. It had been of course. It had been turned off before even a single pony had used it, the bath water heated, the sink off...it was all golden. That he remembered, anyway. If not, well, he had work and she had all day to de-flood the house while he worked. He hedged his bets that all was well.

[colour=#800000]"Of course the water is off, Velvey. Just worry about the doll!" [/colour]he pointed towards a shop adorned with balloons, smiles, and toys. He had been there the day it opened and was happy to see that despite being just across the street from a big ticket store, it survived and grew.

[colour=#800000]"I think this would be just the place!"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet trotted alongside her husband, a worried look spread across her features. [colour=#9966CC]"Did I remember to turn off the toaster, then?" [/colour]She realized this sounded rather ridiculous, as she never made toast in the first place. She, of course, was stalling. She knew deep in her heart that she was doing it. The mare had several compulsive nitpicks. The first and foremost was her craft pile, which was a sanctum of her creative whimsy contained in a chaos of thread, needles, beads, bits of cloth, and her drive to create. It was also her occasional prison, she reflected, based on the events of last night. She also could not stand hoof-picking, gargling spit, or yellow flowers of any kind. Finally, the doozy: crowds. She hated, hated, hated crowds. Noisy, un-contained...annoying. It was disruptive to her thoughts, as she demanded extra quiet when she was in the midst of reading, writing, or her other endeavors. The store looked rather busy and crowded.

She forced a grin, nudging her husband in the side. [colour=#9966CC]"Yes...that is the place. There's lots of ponies. Here. At the place." [/colour]She offered a lopsided grin, swallowing hard. She broke into a cold sweat, in fact. She shook her head, her striped bangs swaying haphazardly. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. A black-and-red songbird, possibly from Canterlot Gardens, alighted on a shrub next to Velvet, tweeting a sweet tune to the mare. [colour=#9966CC]"You know, I would not mind standing out here to guard the uh. This!" [/colour]She grabbed the bird, which flapped around, surprised. She stuffed it into her saddlebag, leaving nothing but a trail of black feathers behind. [colour=#9966CC]"It's for its own good, and I certainly couldn't bring a pet into the store, could I?" [/colour]Her saddlebag ruffled around. She broke into an awkward smile, clearly tweaked out. She shoved the packages into her husband's hooves, trying to hold her saddlebag closed. The bird within chirped in protest. [colour=#9966CC]"Yes, thank you honey! Oh look, an ice cream stand! I wonder if they have hay butterchip?!" [/colour]Velvet trotted for the street vendor, her saddlebag shaking at her side.

[SteelEagle]

The toaster? Sweet Celestia, Crescent envied his wife's mental elasticity that allowed her to bounce from point to point and thought to thought as quickly as she did. While it didn't help them in any way now, he was sure it would help or had helped in other ways. Places. Somehow. Someway. Probably. He hadn't seen any evidence of it but love was blinding, though in this case it was less a metaphorical expression and more a statement of fact- the first time he had tried to propose to her, the light from a nearby lamp had shined just right and blinded him. he stumbled around, overturned a table, angered the hotel staff and ended up having to fish the ring out from a nearby river. As far as the koi pond in the Riveria was concerned, Velvet was a perfect wife without flaws. She had to be, because somewhere in that pond, to this day, a ring was hiding. Crafty aquatic demons.

Of course, both that and her subsequent weirdness was due to her fear of crowds, the poor mare. You couldn't be married to somepony for as long as they were without getting to know such things as well as the signs. He had his own fears, such as sleeping on the sidewalk or a cold bath or being slapped by her after five too many

[colour=#800000]"Yes, go and get some ice cream. It's an early morning staple. Just let the poor bird go, weirdo," [/colour]He gave a chuckle and a elbow to her sides before trotting into the store alone. Somepony had to be the responsible party and buy toys for their young mare, after all.

It was crowded and loud but after spending his life in a university setting there wasn't much that a crowd could do to unnerve him anyway. University students were pigs. So he pushed himself through the crowd, apologizing where necessary, but moving at a fair clip towards the dolls. A father of a daughter never forgot!

[Rosewind]

Velvet trotted happily along the fancy cobblestone walk of the Canterlot marketplace. Her saddlebag shook at her side, the bird within protesting loudly. She matched its tweets of despair with a cheerful whistle of her own. [colour=#9966CC]"Calm down, birdie! I'll buy you some ice cream, too!" [/colour]She made her way around several patches of hobnobbing nobles, breathing in deeply. The sights and smells! Freshly popped popcorn -- which she hated eating but loved the scent -- chitter-chatting colts and fillies on their way to magic class, street vendors hawking jewelry, watches, fruit, and rare imports from around Equestria. Ice cream for breakfast? Sure. She realized she had actually skipped breakfast herself, having spent the time "cooking" it for her love. Her mind wandered back to the vase she had used for a cereal bowl. It would be a pain to clean. She would have her love do it later after she insisted on knitting another project together...or maybe inspiration would finally strike hotly at her creative steel, and she would be able to write again.

She had admitted earlier that she was facing quite a writer's block to Crescent, but she hadn't impressed how long it had been since she put quill to parchment. She inwardly wondered if it had to do with missing her two precious children. Or maybe it was the fact she could become a grandmare soon. Grandmare. She twisted her face into a pout, gazing into a fancy gilded mirror that hung from a vendor's cart. She checked under her eyes for circles. Nope. Not yet. She had fire in her left, and the fire would only be quenched with a early-morning dose of ice cream. Her bag shook again with struggling fowl. She knocked it with her elbow -- which seemed to chastise the bird within -- and made her way to the ice cream vendor. She tentatively reached into her bag -- grasping past a handful of feathers -- to a modest coin purse. Velvet flipped several bits on the counter, along with several black feathers. [colour=#9966CC]"Two cones of hay butternut, please! The feathers...I guess those are a tip?" [/colour]The cones magically hovered next to her, her horn aglow, leaving a trail of drips. She made her way around several patches of crowds and sat down next to a fountain, with a pegasus statue spitting water from the top of a clay cloud into the basin below.

The mare licked her ice cream cone and sighed, gazing up at the clouds. Despite the surrounding noise, she felt oddly at peace. She briefly wondered what kind of trouble her husband could possibly be getting into...

[SteelEagle]

One thing he never missed was the lines. Time healed all wounds but only if time itself wasn't the one taking the wound, flying by like a racing pegasus when the store was packed with parents on near-holy missions to find just the right toy for the foals of Canterlot. Victory meant happy foals who would remember the initial rush and, if his memory wasn't too faulty, would create the sorts of memories that a happy pony was made up of. Failure would be marked by tears greatly disproportionate to the actual significance that it would hold later in life, but kids tended to be really, really loud when sad so it was reason enough. Crescent pushed and parried his way to the doll section, where he found almost too many options. If he had a little one with him, his eyes would have been open to just about any of them. Foals were easy like that. But when you went for nostalgia, you had to be more picky. The wrong gift, the wrong doll, and your daughter would just be confused. Polite probably, but confused. Success though- hiding in the corner with a bunch of other eject single-product lines was a Smarty Pants doll. Just one. With a very thick layer of dust- heck, maybe it had been on the shelf ever since the old one was purchased. They were never very big sellers. He grabbed it, dusted the not so beauty off, and fought his way to the checkout.

Some twenty-five minutes later he left the toy store, a spur in his bum, toilet paper on his hoof, and his mind half-gone. It reminded him why he was more than happy to say his foal-raising days were far, far behind him. The line had been in the stranglehold of a dozen families, more than twenty kids screaming and crying and playing around. One of them had a bit of a stomach flu it seemed and emptied onto the floor, which only slowed matters down further and put the older ponies in a foul mood. A foul mood they used on the cashiers, who had to deal with a bunch of Canterlot snobs who wanted to try and haggle prices with cashiers who were probably poor paid and had to deal with more kids than a nursery. Time ticked away and by the time he was up, the cashier he dealt with barely uttered a word. That was good enough, because by then Crescent was deciding whether to remain celibate for life or not. After he paid the fifteen bits plus change and used the kid-overrun bathroom, he ws happy to leave.

Now to find his wife, which was easier than it might have been earlier in his marriage. They liked fountains. They liked statues. He knew Canterlot and they knew each other. Crescent, doll wrapped and trailing toilet paper, trotted gaily towards the pegasus fountain. Sure enough, his lovely wife was destroying ice cream as the kidnapped bird struggled lightly in it's captivity. What was with Velvet and fowlnapping? Thank Celestia it wasn't a crime. Well, probably not. Maybe his wife was a criminal. That jus made her more attractive, somehow. Almost as attractive as the ice cream that floated without anypony to eat it. He pounced cobblestone and entered the fray with a nice lick of hay butternut.

[colour=#800000]"Nice choice!...Now let the bird go, weirdo. I'm sure somepony might be looking for it,"[/colour] He laughed, taking a deep bite. He sat down.

[colour=#800000]"A wonderful place...do you remember?"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet kicked her hind hooves off the side of the fountain, licking her ice cream contentedly. Her captive birdie shook at her side every now and then, her second ice cream cone hovering and dripping on the cold stonework. She waved as her husband approached, looking down to see the toilet paper trailing behind him. Really? She looked away, pretending not to know him. She felt Crescent sit down next to her and nab her ice cream cone. It was originally for the bird, as she had promised, but she supposed her husband might deserve it more for picking up the toy. [colour=#9966CC]"I'll make you a deal. You get rid of that thing around your hoof, and I'll let the bird go. " [/colour]Velvet lapped at her ice cream cone, her pretty striped bangs bouncing. Without looking away, she opened the flap of her saddlebag. A rather ornery bird flicked out of the bag, tweeted at her unhappily, and took to the sky. She watched it drop several black feathers as it dove behind one of Canterlot's many bastions.

[colour=#9966CC]"This is a wonderful place, indeed." [/colour]Velvet swallowed hard. It felt like so many years ago, when the pair were dating. She remembered Crescent was trying to show off by skipping rocks on the surface of the fountain to her. She tried to skip one herself, but missed, which ricocheted off the top of the pegasus and flew into a fine glass shop. Most of the items within shattered, which caused the animals of a nearby pet shop to freak out from the abrasive noise. The pets escaped shortly thereafter, which ran into the various fine restaurants that dotted along the cobble way of Canterlot. Many nobles ran from those establishments, various exotic pets clinging to them or sitting at the tables eating their meals, as the pet shop owner ran about frantically trying to catch them. She also remembered something caught fire. And screaming. There was also rumour of an alligator that escaped to the sewer. Like the moth fiasco, the annuls of this situation were forever buried as a Sparkle family secret. [colour=#9966CC]"I do remember! ...It's such a lovely fountain." [/colour]Velvet paused, looking to her love. [colour=#9966CC]"Did you find the right doll? It's the one Cadance gave to Twili when she was little...did you remember what it looked like? I can always sew her one if push comes to shove." [/colour]

Velvet dipped her hoof in the cold water of the fountain. Several small and colourful fish darted away. She splashed her husband, a grin plastered on her face. [colour=#9966CC]"Gotcha!"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

What was she talking about? Mares turned things around faster than any stallion could imagine and the speed with which she reversed it would almost be stereotypical if his wife was stereotypical, but it was probably more because she was a writer than anything else that he was used to her quickness. He followed her gaze and found a piece of toilet paper trailing behind him and even a few onlookers with judging eyes. Well, judging eyes, his daughter was an Alicorn Princess and his son a Prince of the Crystal Empire and Captain of the Royal Equestrian Guard. No matter his foolishness, he had won the game of life and could take a few social penalties in the process. Huzzah, genetics! He quickly and sheepishly cut the head off of the toilet paper snake and took his seat next to Velvet as the bird fled. Good on him, at least one of them would know freedom.

Yes, of course she would remember that day. His father had been extremely upset over the ordeal, a whole well to do section of Caterlot demanding various parts of the young couple's bodies as compensation. It had led to a brief but heated argument about his relationship with the mare who was responsible, which was full of some sage fatherly advice laced with choice words and a son's very wise rebuttal that was wholly unfit for foalhood consumption. They didn't talk for a few days, in which Crescent went to help repair the damage that had been done and contemplate what he would do. The ring had been bought and that day had been the day he planned on proposing, had the prospective pets of Canterlot not done what they did. He thought long and hard on many things and ended that day of labor sitting on the fountain thinking that...there were better choices for his proposal, safer places, where she couldn't destroy everything somehow. Perhaps-

-A splash of water in the face broke his train of concentration, his wife playfully splashing him despite the protests of the fish. Yeah, she didn't destroy them purely because she had grown old. He chuckled and quickly brought out the doll.

[colour=#800000]"Yes, yes of course. I made sure that our little girl would only get the best nostalgic feelings for it. Otherwise, I'd be an awful father and you would be equally awful for ruining my good work clothes,"[/colour] he teased playfully, standing up and delivering a kiss on the cheek.

[colour=#800000]"Well, it's time. Will you have everything ready for the party tonight?"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet sighed peacefully. She dipped her hoof into the chilly water of the fountain, watching the shimmering, coloured fish dart about...and her splash on Crescent. She expected a splash back, but instead her stallion love's lips brisked against her cheek. Her pale grey cheeks flushed a rosy pink as she felt the kiss quickly evaporating, leaving a lingering wisp of warm moisture behind. The mare smiled. This day was fabulous! Nothing would ruin it. Nothing at all. She blinked as Crescent asked her if everything was ready for the party tonight.

[colour=#9966CC]"Of course it is, sweetie!"[/colour] Velvet said. Her stomach dropped to her knees. The dress! The dress, the dress, the dress! She had forgotten to try it on last night! She was distracted by her craft pile...or rather, it was distracted with her. Any last minute "fixes" couldn't and wouldn't happen -- there simply wasn't enough time to fuss with her dress! Her blushing cheeks paled, and she swallowed hard, casually flicking her striped bangs out of her eyes as she tried to hide her horror. She knew her husband knew, and she knew he also knew it was probably not a good idea to mention this. [colour=#9966CC]"So um...yes, we need to make sure your suit fits! Shall we head home and get ready?" [/colour]Velvet's mind whirled like a tornado stuck in a jar. She had to find a way to find something suitable to wear for the party, but quickly! And she had to hide it! [colour=#9966CC]"So, any other places you'd like to stop before we go? Maybe a visit to the fabric store..." [/colour]The fabric store. Whenever she visited (which was often), she was like a filly trapped in a candy store. Crescent would have much more to share about this...

[SteelEagle]

Well, somepony here had completely spaced on the itinerary of the day. It was to be expected as she was more of a creative, free flowing mare and they mocked tight schedules more than anything else. He should have known better than to expect her to have kept to it and given them the time they needed, but it was what it was. She knew he knew, he knew he knew, and more importantly he knew that she knew that he knew. So he couldn't get angry, even if it was a proper reaction to being so heavily undone by her silliness. He squeezed her hoof for comfort as she panicked- even if it hidden under layers of stitched together confidence, a husband knew- momentarily, forgetting that one of them had to work and was already pushing it. Besides, she was going to be a nervous wreck the whole day over matters silly and vital and as all husbands knew, there were better places to be. Especially when they had sharp objects, and she did.

[colour=#800000]"Well, the fabric store does sound wonderful, my love," [/colour]he began, kissing her on the cheek and giving her a firm hug, [colour=#800000]"but I'm afraid that one of us has an engagement he must be at that he can't call off. That being my job,"[/colour] He gave a laugh as he pulled away a small bit, giving her the distance needed to ensure she didn't karate kick him in the face. It didn't happen often, but the fact it happened at all was bad enough.

[colour=#800000]"After work, I'll freshen up, get dressed, and we can go to the party. I'm sure it will be absolutely divine, my sweet,"[/colour] He finished with a broad and genuine smile, the sort that told you all you needed to know. She had closed the walls in on herself this time almost as quickly as his little beauties annhilated legions of flies and his wife's stray fabric. Little buggers had saved him from creations unknown.

[colour=#800000]"See you tonight, Velvet! Love you!"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet smiled and waved as her husband left, her stomach flooding with panic. She bid the pegasus fountain farewell, and began a fast gallop down the clean-kept cobblestone walk of the Canterlot market way. Small flocks of birds alighted to the sky in a flurry of feathers, as hummingbirds paused to observe her as they supped nectar with their long beaks from squat, colourful flowers that grew in the potted side-gardens of the upscale homes. She gazed with her aqua blue eyes, at the clouds above, a cluster of young unicorns playing in a school yard, and a rather funny-looking cat. She needed inspiration. Anything would do. The mare stopped in front of her favourite store...oh yes, the fabric store! She may weave words with her pen, but she could weave artsy, beautiful things with a thread and needle, too.

She trotted inside, looking over swaths of fabric, different threads, fibers, as well as the latest magazine "Stitch'N Mare." She hurriedly flipped through the thin pages, her eyes darting back and forth. A mare in an incredibly detailed wedding dress grinned back at her. She was quite pleased with her own wedding dress -- she preferred to sew it herself, of course, and she secretly embroidered her favorite (and important) things into the frilly lacework: the cutie marks of her parents, a quill, a star, and a chocolate bar. She later stitched the cutie marks of her two children into several blanks spots she left deliberately, just in case Crescent and her wanted to renew their wedding vows, or something equally romantic. Any inspiration yet? Nope.

Velvet bought the magazine, as well as several dozen types of fabric. With her coin purse considerably lightened, and her saddle bags considerably heavier, she made her way home. She set the dress on her bed next to Crescent's party attire, and tapped her chin, glancing to the clock. She had three hours to figure this out, before her husband came home and it would be time to get ready for their party. She didn't dare try it on...she was sure it was beyond hope. [colour=#9966CC]"Think, Velvet! Think think think!" [/colour]

Meanwhile...

[SteelEagle]

You would think that seeing magic being performed bu the supremely gifted and well-heeled would never get old, but you'd be wrong. At least Crescent was bored of it. It may have just been the repetition of the same lesson plans that prompted these feelings, but the eager faces of the students held little more than boredom after his long years of passively watching them succeed and fail. Not that he was ambivalent towards them as individuals, however; he loved them the only way a proud father could be, knowing that years of love and attention and effort went into each one, hopes and dreams buoyed by loving Equestrian families. He understood that. He never got on Twilight for not keeping in contact with him when she was away because every day he saw what these students went through to live up to the lofty goals set by their parents. And she was trying to impress the Princess. His little filly had enough on her plate without her father badgering her.

But regardless, the same lesson plans seen again and again drained his patience and he couldn't wait for the class he was watching wrap up. The Professor needed the newest star charts, but the fellow had really jumped the gun on his little test and raced to class to prepare before Crescent could see him. Of course, Crescent had been grilled over the slowdown in the study because of it, but he had spent the morning with his wife and didn't quite care all that much about their concerns. The work was solid, the study was fine, and this professor was a madstallion. Poor fillies and colts were having their horns run ragged by by him, running all sorts of transformation spells, and he was far too invested in their failures for Crescent's tastes. Then again, the professor never had a child and probably considered them slightly more upright lab rats.

Of course, the extra hours had allowed him to fine tune some data. Nothing major could be done, but he was proud of his work considering the time constraints. So it was with more than a little anxious energy stuffing his gut that he walked down the steps of the classroom as the exhausted fillies and colts filed past him in various stages of defeat. Finally, it was just him and the Professor, who effortlessly tossed the accumulated results of the day's tests in the trash. Crescent snorted.

[colour=#800000]"That bad?"[/colour]

[colour=#ff0000]"Worse! Much, much worse! I gave them all of five minutes to prepare and they couldn't handle the simplest instruction! Sometimes I wonder about this new generation of Equestrians, Mr. Sparkle," [/colour]The Professor snapped about, his frustration boiling over. He turned and saw Crescent levitating a folder.[colour=#ff0000] "Ahh! Finaly, you have the charts?"[/colour]

[colour=#800000]"Yes. Had them this morning, but-"[/colour]

[colour=#ff0000]"Gimme!"[/colour]

And Crescent did, the folder dropping on the desk for a secone before being violently opened and the charts within pulled out. He had made some of them, but many had been found from the archives. Detailing the positions of stars and the planet that Equestria was on on certain dates over the past fifteen-hundred years, it also indicated the passing a certain comet across the night sky. And to make matters more interesting, each date chosen was of special historical significance in the history of unicorns and Equestria as a whole. Some believed that there was a connection. Crescent knew there wasn't, but try telling that to a room full of professors fighting for tenure.

[colour=#ff0000]"Imagine it- this one comet could be the very same that has flown over Equestria six times before each date of which we recorded magical surges and have changed history!" [/colour]the Professor then launched into a diatribe, mostly discarding the charts that disagreed with him. Crescent nodded half-hearted and started trotting away, shouting affirmations as he went.

[colour=#800000]"I'm going back to the Astronomy Section now."[/colour]

[colour=#ff0000]"...and of course the pegasi were nowhere to be found, because the very fabric of the weather changed each time the comet appears! COULD THIS BE THE REAL REASON THE THREE TRIBES LEFT THEIR NATIVE LANDS!?"[/colour] The madstallion belted out to nopony.

[colour=#800000]"Okay, have a good one."[/colour]

And with that, he left the room.

[colour=#800000]"What a loon."[/colour]

Crescent promptly left the theoritical magical application section to it's theoritical professors. He had work to do and a formal party to dread!

Meanwhile...

[Rosewind]

Velvet had dozed off. She was quite tired from the previous events of last night, fixing "breakfast," running around Canterlot in the morning with her husband, tormenting pigeons, and shopping. Her eyes came into blurry focus on a silver alarm clock, which sat like a quiet sentinel on an oaken night stand. She was quite a goof when it came to telling time -- of course she could tell time, but she tended to mix the little and big hands sometimes. She refused to acknowledge that -- perhaps -- her eyesight wasn't what it used to be. She stretched, yawning loudly. She flicked a white-and-purple bang out of her gaze, scooching closer to the clock. It was quiet. It usually would tick quietly, sending a soft, muted echo across her bedroom. [colour=#9966CC]"Oh good...I have time." [/colour]She paused, picked up the clock, and considered the silence. It wasn't wound up from this morning. Usually it was the first thing she would do in the morning, but she was so excited about fixing breakfast...

Velvet's grey face grew a shade paler. She raced downstairs, her clock tucked under her armpit, to look for the cuckoo clock set above their dining room mantle. It was originally a gift from her great-great-great grandmare, but she was known to be unusually cheap, and her husband had questioned the quality of the antique. It was also rather gaudy -- carved from muddy-looking pine, slathered with teek-brown glaze, with a tired-looking pheonix as a cuckoo. The arms of this clock were much different from her bedroom clock. She swallowed hard, knowing deep inside that she blew it. The thought of the dress burrowed at the back of her mind like a chubby worm feasting at an apple. She bit her lower lip, a solemn tear running down her cheek. What was she going to do?! She dropped the clock to the carpet with a dull thud, sitting down on her haunches. She was going to be laughed at by the couture-savvy of the entire neighbourhood when she trotted into the party wearing her much-too-tight dress, and it was 110% her fault.

The mare sniffed, hearing the familiar trot of her husband approaching the front door. She quickly wiped her eyes, stuck on a smile, and looked to the door.

[SteelEagle]

The day had been relatively uneventful, with himself sequestered in the astronomy section and many of his colleagues out sick or generally schmoozing. He didn't partake in that because he was going to have his fill of self-aggrandizing pompous know it alls that very night at a party. Subjecting himself twice to that ordeal was the sort of thing a masochist did and he was very rarely a masochist, and those times when he was were strictly off limits to those vexing professors who in the absence of classes gossiped like schoolfillies. He was fine alone with his telescope mapping the stars, though there wasn't anything particularly exciting to see that day. He wrote some reports, reviewed some theories- the meat of his job was using his accumulated data to support or oppose various theories being bandied about by the dolts below who probably hadn't looked through a telescope in years- too busy tossing around empty words to give them any weight. His day ended and he trotted home with speed, needing to get ready for the party.

He was soon home, head held high as he was going to put on a brave face for his wife. He didn't hate parties per se, nor did he hate socializing with those from high society. But ever since his children had become internationally famous royalty, the offers never let up. You could only attend so many before you grew tired of all the flank-kissing shenanigans that went on while you found yourself penned in because you were expected to hold up well so you didn;t embarass your devastatingly popular and well known children. And because neither one of them happened to live in Canterlot, the honor of representing them in Equestrian high society. They were adults, grown and with responsibilities that dwarfed their peers, but even they needed mommy and daddy to help them. It was charming in a way. Time consuming in all others.

He arrived home and opened the door, trotting inside with as much gaiety as he could manage. No reason to upset his wife, who was upon him the moment he walked in. She had a smile, some wetness around her eyes, and slight bed mane. She must have taken a nap and just now woken up. That didn't surprise Crescent much at all- she was never very good at telling time, and the whole hand mechanics blew her mind. Still, that meant she hadn't gotten anything ready for the party and they were going to be made to look like fools. His face didn't change though as he trotted past and magic'd her tail and dragged her along. If nothing else, it would annoy her enough to get walking, talking, and preparing.

[colour=#800000]"Well, I had a wonderful day today. How was yours? Need any help getting ready?"[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet grinned sheepishly as her handsome stallion love made his way through the door. There was something magical about him walking through the doorway, carrying with him the scents of the outside, of ink, parchment, warm afternoon breezes, and pollen from the trees and flowers outside. She also knew he deposited the woes of work right outside, and would pick them up again when he left for work the next day. It was quite nice of him to not subject her to the burdens of his vocation; she also would support him at a moment's notice if he asked for it. She knew this would only occur in the most dire of circumstances. She hastily rubbed moisture out of the corners of her eyes, lapsing into a fake yawn.

[colour=#9966CC]"Welcome home, sweetie! Everything is all ready! I have your suit all laid out and ironed, I just need to make some final adjustments on my dress!" [/colour]Velvet said cheerfully, smooching his cheek. She blinked as he passed her, and she felt a familiar tug of magic on her white-and-lavender striped tail. Her rump and body followed suit. [colour=#9966CC]"Oh, my!" [/colour]Velvet giggled, somewhat flustered. Last time Crescent dragged her like this, he was frustrated that she refused to go outside due to a rather robust heat wave, and he needed help watering the nasty little grabby plants when they were mere seedlings. [colour=#9966CC]"You should just let them dry up. I bet they would make superb kindling come winter time," [/colour]Velvet remembered saying. She also recalled getting carried that way on their honeymoon, but that was a detail for another time...

Thump, thump, thump, thump. Velvet's rump hit each step on the way up to their bedroom. She stood up and pulled herself away from Crescent's magical aura, flicking her tail away with a hmph. [colour=#9966CC]"Oh come now, we'll have a good time!" [/colour]She pulled the suit off the bed, along with rather lovely green-silk cloak with a blue lining to match her husband's coat, and draped them over him. Her horn glowed, and a striped ribbon of pale gold wrapped around the stallion's neck and tied with a flourish. Velvet hummed, meanwhile, placing her pearl necklace around her neck. The pearl necklace -- quite a story behind this one. She was attending a local carnival with Crescent when they were dating, when a clown with ugly face paint kept flirting with her. She made it clear she wasn't interested, and Crescent -- back then more of a brazen and hormonal stallion -- decided to feed him some of his own pie. The clown stumbled backward and knocked into a firebreathing performer, who sneezed on the circus tent and caught it on fire. Everypony was evacuated without incident, but the tent lit up like a torch that could be seen -- some said -- all the way in Manehattan. The pair quickly stumbled off toward the shore, where they came upon a nest of very rare clams. These clams would only open during a full moon to offer their pearls and -- wahey -- pearls! Crescent gathered them up and offered them to Velvet, as the circus tent in the background burned brightly, amidst screaming and crashing as ponies ran from the inferno. They kissed. It was quite romantic.

Velvet sighed romantically, gazing to her dress. [colour=#9966CC]"Okay then, let's do this!" [/colour][colour=#9966CC]" [/colour]She plucked it off the bed and stuck it in the closet, glancing around her room. Drapes? No. Crumpled bed sheets? Nah. Her aquatic gaze fell on a lampshade. It was quite pretty -- she had decorated it herself with resin sequins and pink rose thread. She plucked it off the lamp post, and shoved it over her body with her forehooves. She wiggled her hips annnd...on! She looked over herself in the mirror, pleased with her result. Who knows, maybe she would start new fashion trend? She turned to Crescent with a brush, her horn glowing, and flicked his blue bangs into a nice slick curl. She then sat at her vanity, horn still glowing, and applied a lovely pale lavender of eyeshadow. She wasn't fond of mascara, so she skipped that, but did dab a little blush on her cheeks -- just enough to look like she had a little sun that day. A tube of purple lipstick fluttered to her lips, which she barely kissed. She remembered what her mother taught her with makeup: less is more. Just like her makeshift "dress." Indeed.

Velvet finished brushing her mane, and she turned to her stallion love, beaming. She wondered if he was still conscious? She dared him to say anything about her new "dress."

[colour=#9966CC]"All set! My, you look dashing, honey. This night is going to be just wonderful! Are you all ready?"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

It had worked to perfection, his strategy of annoying her just enough to get her focused on more important tasks. It was one of a thousand little tricks a good husband learned, marshalling enough goodwill to weather the old storms of mare-rage in the name of research. Now he knew her buttons well enough to press her without pressing, lead her without leading, and not get his flank kicked in over trivial matters. He dragged her, she was dragged, thump thump thump of her rump rump rump up the stairs until finally she pulled free and she went about her wife-ly duties. It didn't take long for her to snap to them, and before he could summon the will to resist she was dressing him. He had surprisingly few reservations about it, as if he did it himself he would make some sort of critical mistake that would drive any mare mad. The suit was splendid as always and her fine eye gave him a neat, sleek cloak that matched him. He felt like a movie star, getting pampered and prepped for a scene instead of a weary husband begrudgingly going to a party.

Then she started getting ready. Pearls that had a story behind him that his father's fortune told better than words ever could, and one he wished buried. Then she...

Crescent facehoofed even as his wife brushed his bangs back. No. No. No. No. He wasn't some Hoity Toity, but even he had standards. A lampshade was a degree of silliness that he couldn't support, and he could support a whole heck of a lot. Families, dreams, ambitions and desires were tossed on his back and he bore them with the characteristics of a loving father and husband, but there were just some things that any proper stallion wouldn't abide by and tonight Crescent found his. Velvet was pleased enough with the ensemble. Maybe they could attend the party and she would be so utterly ashamed by the jeers of their fellows that she would never attempt to pull together such lunacy again. But he ditched that terrible thought as swiftly as it had arrived, ashamed of himself for having even thought of it. He wanted her happy. He also didn't want to have the conversation on the way home that he knew it was a dumb outfit but had let her go anyway.

He didn't respond to her. Instead he walked up, grabbed the outer edge of the lampshade hard, and in one fast, hard motion, pushed Velvet through it. She popped back out- literally a pop, very loud one- and he discarded the lampshade. Tough love- she looked absolutely silly.

[colour=#800000]"Velvet, we're going to a high class party. I don't want you to become the laughingstock of Canterlot. I'll buy you a new dress on the way there if we leave now," [/colour]He offered, regretting the loss of bits that he couldn't really afford to spend. But it was better than a lampshade dress. Anything was. Even bedsheets or curtains.

[Rosewind]

Oh, it was on! Velvet felt the lampshade rip clean off her hips. Rage boiled. Her eyes might have even flashed scarlet. The nerve! The nerve! It was certain Crescent wasn't just going to sleep on the couch this time, he was going to sleep on the sidewalk outside. She had only once been this angry with her husband. It was during her first pregnancy with Shining and she had a massive craving for a pickle, banana, onion, and strawberry jam sandwich. At 2 in the morning. [colour=#9966CC]"Sweetie, will you make me one?" [/colour]She remembered asking, nudging her husband's side. He agreed at first, and begrudgingly slinked down to the kitchen to fulfill his plump wife's request -- only they were out of bananas, onions, pickles, and strawberry jam. As he wasn't fully versed in the ways of marriage at the time, he delivered the sorrowful news to Velvet. Things happened. Bad, bad things. He learned swiftly that he should have gone to the store -- breaking in if necessary -- to procure the proper ingredients. That is what ultimately happened, but it did take time to replace the broken drapes in their bedroom. And the closet door. And the picture frame. And the mirror.

Velvet opened her mouth several times, like a fish struggling to breathe out of water. The things she would say! The terrible, terrible things! Then...Crescent's peace offering: [colour=#9966CC]"A new dress?!" [/colour]Velvet felt joy flood her heart, which pulsed deep in her breast with love for her stallion. Truly she had married the Right One, despite his numerous flaws. Despite her numerous flaws. She pressed her lips to his, her lightly blushed cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. [colour=#9966CC]"You're so dashing! Of course you may buy me a new dress!"[/colour] She grabbed his hoof and yoinked him down the stairs, breaking into a gallop for the shopping district. Her pearls clacked against her neck. [colour=#9966CC]"I hope we can make it to the dress shop before they're closed! Ooh, should I get a green one? Light blue? Purple? A pattern? Maybe if we have time I'll try on a few!"[/colour]

After no time at all, Velvet arrived at the shop. She burst into the room, which was replete with dresses, dresses, dresses, dragging her husband along like a pull-along toy train. Dresses with roses and lovely laces that shimmered and glimmered, some set with rare stones, with minute stitch-work and rare patterns and cloths from all over Equestria. Velvet didn't know where to begin! [colour=#9966CC]"YES! Shopping! This is the BEST. NIGHT. EVER! Which one should we look at first, my love?!"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Crescent was a pretty epic husband in every way possible, or so he told himself whenever he was being assertive and steered his wild wife away from the deep possibility of embarrassment. It happened more than she would ever know and like a silent protector and guardian he preferred to keep it that way, because few things were more vexing than a woman who felt beholden. This was doubly true for mares who believed they ha done nothing wrong, which was most mares most of the time in most situations he could think of. And this was quadruply true for his wife, who was forever blameless in the world of fashion for all times and to the dungeon (or dog house) with those who told her otherwise. Luckily, she was fickle and her mood changed as soon as he mentioned getting her a dress.

He smiled and followed her, more accurately was dragged along as she was moving at the speed of light, more than happy to get her out of the house and moving inches closer to the site of the party even if that time was likely to be lost when she started trying on dresses of every shade and style imaginable. She could di what she pleased as long as she stuck to the time table. Not like she needed his permission to do as she pleased, that was more or less the modus operandi of their life together and probably how every married couple in the annals of Equestrian history operated, but he doubted many of those mares had such a sincere love affair with dressing up no matter the style.

[colour=#800000]"Try on as many as you like, dear. But we must get out in about twenty minutes if we want to be at the party on time,"[/colour] he stated plainly, allowing his wife to run about the store trying on dresses like a madmare. He knew his role, nod and smile and be happy for her.

[colour=#800000]"Looks beautiful on you, my love."[/colour]

[colour=#800000]"That colour is sensational! Good eye!"[/colour]

[colour=#800000]"Oh, your figure!"[/colour]

Etcetera on and on. He knew what he was there for and he played his part well, but nothing he said was a lie. To his eyes, anyway. She was beautiful in anything, even a lampshade. He allowed her to try on dress after dress like a whirlwind of fashion disaster, frustrating the helpers to the best of her ability. Finally, twenty minutes was up and he grabbed her, tossed the bits on the counter, and trotted out without paying much attention to what she had on.

[colour=#800000]"To the party, Velvet!" [/colour]

[Rosewind]

It was true, Velvet was a whirlmare of fashion when put into her proper element. She enjoyed trying on garments as much as making them, and she ran about the racks of prim dresses like a filly with a purse full of bits, lost in a candy store, to indulge the full cliché. [colour=#9966CC]"Spots? Stripes? No no... Definitely not stripes, Velvet." [/colour]She was, indeed, talking to herself, catching a reaffirming comment from her husband now and then. Her heart began to sink -- so many choices, but just picking a dress off the rack? No. This had to be The One. She would know it when she saw it, and it had to be complimentary to the Sparkle Family Way. Not too resplendent, not too country. Of course, if you asked her what she was trying to wear a mere thirty minutes before, she would have denied everything.

A flicker caught her eye. Gorgeous, gorgeous woven lace! Around the sleeves, and trimming the hem near the skirt line. The cloth was a breezy beige, which complimented her grey coat and lavender-white stripes. The pattern was dotted with small flowers and minute leaves. She magically plucked it from the hanger like a fat peach getting yoinked from a gnarled tree branch. She nosed her way through the skirt, wiggled her hips...yes, it fit! It was perfect! And moreover, it complimented the suit she made for her husband. She pulled her pearls into view with her teeth and turned around several times for Crescent. She grinned -- he was already placing bits in front of the cashier. Velvet glanced in the mirror to double-check the straight locks of her mane, which tended to get scrunched in different directions from trying on different dresses.

[colour=#9966CC]"Thank you so much, honey! I love, love, love it! It's so cute! It's fantastic! It's lightyears above that ratty old dress I was going to wear. Take me, my stallion love! To our party we go!" [/colour]She nosed up to him, her heart fluttering, cheeks flushed, her lacy dress breezing over her tail as she trotted alongside her dashing love. The manor where the party was taking place was already bustling with activity, with shadows of the privileged and high couture splayed against the backdrop of fine-woven silken curtains. Velvet nosed Crescent. She could tell he was uneasy about mingling with the Nobles of Canterlot, but they would both be brave. [colour=#9966CC]"Shall we?"[/colour] They shall.

[SteelEagle]

The manor loomed like the impending doom of simple society, imposing it's high-stature on the are around it with foreboding snobbishness. Crescent disliked gatherings like this under threat of boredom and crushing wit being bandied back and forth rather violently, lacking much friendliness at times and replaced with a faint touch of the rat race between victors who couldn't help but continue it's mundane nature at all times. For all of it's failures it was an important part of the social construct of the city, and the character of it's people and streets were largely defined by famous actions and events such as this. He knew it's importance and still disliked the hold it had over him and his wife, but alas, living in the capital had to have some sort of drawback and if this was the price he paid for a blessed life, so be it.

He sighed, bowing with his wife and taking her hoof in hoof, her momentary boost enough for him to push through the membrane of sanity. At least they went into the chaos looking quite dapper, his frustration timing perfectly with her. That dress was beautiful and oh so form fitting.

[colour=#800000]"Of course, my dear," [/colour]and with that, they entered the manor with their heads held high.

"Oh, jolly good!"

"Yes, yes, I do say!"

"Well, that's a right corker there, ol' chap!

"Have you seen that mare lately? Child or not, she is starting to lose that figure!"

"Have you read my daughter Quick Witted's latest novel? Who knew she would become the nation's premiere comedy writer?"

"Author, you say? How fantastic. My daughter recently became the lead medical supervisor of all Canterlot-area hospitals."

"Oh, absolutely smashing! Speaking of, does she treat my son? He was recently the top pick in last week's hoofball draft!"

"How fantastic! I missed it on account of watching my oldest son get inducted into the highest order of the Guards..."

Uggh, nobles. He hated nobles.

"Crescent! Velvet! How vonderful it is to see you!"

[Rosewind]

Velvet, as a mare, always had an ulterior motive for her behaviors, choices, and actions. Nothing went unplumbed in her mind for want of providing a better life for her family, or herself. This time, however, her goals were self-motivated -- selfish -- even. She was not want for high couture, but still a disciple of the paradigm. She made a modest entry with Crescent at her side, enjoying her breezy new dress replete with the lovely lace work. Indeed, she was already planning a piece that used a similar pattern in her mind. She held her head high, her neatly groomed striped bangs shaking with each step. She swallowed hard as the Nobles took notice of the pair, her pearls clacking around her neck. She stole a glance toward Crescent before turning to the approaching Hostess. She cleared her throat.

[colour=#9966CC]"Miss Prissypants! Or was it Pearly Petunia? I do get my names and faces messed up. It's a creative flaw of mine." [/colour]She squee-grinned, her face draining from pale grey to [colour=#d3d3d3]ghostly grey[/colour]. The housewarming gift! She was beside herself. With all of the dress drama she completely, utterly, for-certain forgot. She mentally slapped her forehead, clenching her teeth. She knew, of course, she couldn't expect her husband to remember such frivolities. He hated gatherings like this. [colour=#9966CC]"Oh my! Look at those hor d'oeuvres! Are those grass cakes with mint sauce I see? My favorite! Please excuse my husband and I!" [/colour]

She bodily tugged Crescent along at her side, her aqueous pupils converging into worrisome, pointed specks. [colour=#9966CC]"Cressy," [/colour]she hissed under her breath, [colour=#9966CC]"...we forgot the housewarming gift. What do we do?!" [/colour]High Society in Canterlot dictated certain rules, spoken and unspoken. This rule was written on their invitation, and to miss the mark on this would be the talk of the social circles for months to come. No, the Sparkles were not known for their wealth, but they were known for their respect for following social mandates in their reserved -- albeit peculiar -- way. It was like the Hunger Games of Equestria, and Velvet and her hubby were Tributes.

Twilight Velvet worriedly stuffed a grass cake into her mouth, chewing busily. [colour=#9966CC]"Mrrpgh! Mrrf!" [/colour]She magically yoinked a glass of champagne from a passing server, downing it with one swift gulp. [colour=#9966CC]"I think I'm going to need more of these before this night is over. Any ideas, honey?"[/colour]

[SteelEagle]

Crescent Sparkle loved his wife. He had to, right? And not just because otherwise she would bury him alive in dungeon crabs. No, such a threat had never been uttered despite his protests the next day to his mother-in-law that his newly wed bride might have a few cocoanuts loose in the head. No, he had to love her not only because of that, but because how else could he deal with her bouts of forgetfulness curled up in a web of delightfully whimsical insanity? Love was the shield with which he protected his own self from the trepidations of her less than willful assaults. She would never learn, never get better about it, never become more than she was. And to Crescent, that was more than okay- that was perfect. Because to his eyes, to his soul, she was perfect in every way that mattered to him even if that meant occasionally he had to worry about silly things like social order and the respect of his peers.

But that didn't mean he still didn't worry about what happened when she lost her mind a little. Losing the housewarming gift wasn't a disaster that they couldn't recover from, but it definitely added a few wrinkles to their plan. And she was having a hard time calming down. He sighed, keeping a few other tasty treats and drinks away from her full maw in an effort to stop the love of his life from needing to be rolled out, or passed out and caused a scene from being completely out of her mind hammered.

[colour=#800000]"First off, calm down. We'll think of something. For now, play it cool and socialize. The last thing we need is for one of us to go completely mad and draw attention to ourselves. Worst comes to worst, we'll just say somepony stole it. Let big Crescent handle this,"[/colour] he ended with a slight smirk and winked, leaving his beautiful wife to her own foolish devices as he waded deeper into the pool of social molasses that was the mainstay of the night. he wasn't the biggest fan of such events, and he also didn't like having to solve problems that arose because of it. Luckily, he had an ace up his sleeve.

[colour=#800000]"Ace!"[/colour] Crescent chirped, bobbing and weaving between the elite like a snake in Unyasi. The veteran reporter waved towards Crescent as he intensely observed the balcony.

"Crescent, so good to see you. I thought you were going to be late," Ace Reporter chuckled, Crescent settling in next to them as the pair observed the party around them like the pariahs they were. Nopony trusted Ace- if he didn't like you, somehow juicy gossip of your life would get out. But luckily Crescent had known him since he had his firstborn. Blood was thicker than water, but ink was thicker than blood.

[colour=#800000]"Yeah, well, Velvet wanted to wear a lampshade dress and forgot our housewarming gift,"[/colour] Crescent whispered under the guise of shaking his hoof. Ace Reporter nodded, smiling.

"Haha...you know Prissypants is one of the city's most vindictive gossip queens, right? She won't take that disrespect lightly" The smile draining away slowly. Crescent nodded.

[colour=#800000]"Yeah, yeah. We made a mistake. Any insurance for us?"[/colour]

"Hmm...she's like a hawk for the name, but are you interested in hearing about what her son just did? It'll cost ya."

[colour=#800000]"If it's something I can use to prevent her from ruining Velvet's social life, I'm all ears."[/colour]

[Rosewind]

Velvet meandered about the party, keeping her husband in her peripheral vision. The chattering of the Nobles was a white wash of typical Canterlot social dialogue. Did you hear about Bloomforth? I think she had her hooves reconditioned. Oh, of course the venture made lots of bits! My Wubbykins is one of the best at running the Stalk Market, you know! Velvet rolled her eyes as she took in piecemeal bits of the party. She turned her attention back to Crescent, speaking to a rather shady-looking stallion. Who was he talking to? She plumbed her mind, biting her lower lip as she struggled to recall. Nope. Oooh, more champagne! Her horn glowed pale lavender, and another glass of the bubbly stuff floated to her lips. It was crisp, light, refreshing, and -- most importantly -- it was liquid reinforcement that this evening would be charming.

She trotted along, her swaths of lacy dress trailing behind her, her head turned in through distraction. She bumped into the flank of a rather large Noble. He was pure white, clearly overweight, with a gaudy, gold-trimmed monocle stuffed deeply in his eye socket. Velvet's cheeks flushed pink. [colour=#9966CC]"Oh my! I'm sorry about that...there's just so much going on!"[/colour] He grunted gruffly at her and went back to his business stuffing a tulip truffle into his gaping maw. Velvet skittered away from that, ducking down to avoid a herd of prim mares chattering about jewelry. She glanced down to her neck, where her special pearls clacked with her every step. She did own other jewelry -- in particular her engagement horn ring that Crescent managed to drop into a river when proposing to her long ago. Long ago. Ugh. She took another sip of her hovering champagne. What was Crescent going to do about the gift ordeal, anyway? She decided to make her rounds back to his side. She felt alone in enemy territory -- disconnected -- and she was eager to make her return to her stallion love.

Maybe it was the champagne, or her distraction of all the things going on. Velvet shuffled back toward her dark blue husband. She, of course, tripped on the folds of her dress in probably the most ungraceful way possible. She fell forward, flat on her muzzle. Her magic came to an abrupt end, and her half-full glass of fizzy was flung across the room...straight into the face of Prissypants. The light, classical music of the party came to a halt. All of the Nobles turned to look, and Velvet -- her face about as pale as it had been when she was giving birth to Shining Armor (a whole other story in itself), looked mortified beyond description. She looked up with watery, aqueous eyes. This was a disaster. She silently mouthed her plea to Crescent: what now?