“Well, um… well.” We stood outside what was once a train of passenger cars, a wood and metal sign erected atop the first one proclaiming it as ‘Station Seamsters’, with a pony or two milling about inside. Aerith grinned as she climbed up onto the running board at the end of the car, myself following behind her as she headed inside, a bell ringing above the doorway. Fancy-looking pre-war clothes lined the length of the railcar where there were once seats, a unicorn stallion at the far end leaning over a desk and waving a hoof towards us, wearing a wide smile.
 
“Oh, do come in! Welcome, it’s always pleasant to see some new faces in town, especially in my humble little shop here. What can I do for you two fine mares today?” Aerith trotted over towards the desk as I looked over some of the items on display. Whoof, didn’t think you could get fabric like this in the wasteland, definitely not that thick cotton or wool that Cross Stitch always had around. Is… is that actual silk? “Ah, planning a night out on the town? That’s in the style of one of Vera Lynn’s old gowns she brought in one time for repairs, very light silk. Only have a few of those in stock - and I would be glad to tailor one to fit around your wings, as well.” Dressed like Vera… No, no, hang on Night Strike, not here for you.
 
“Ahm, actually, we’re here for something which my friend Aerith wanted done, didn’t tell me exactly what.” The alicorn let off a small giggle as I trotted over, looking around the shop for a moment before levitating over an old photograph. Closer inspection showed it to be a rather dapper-looking stallion in a fine longcoat, vest, and undershirt, and adorned in a familiar-looking wide-brimmed black fedora. Uh… huh. I’m all for crossdressing, but, um… hm… oh, wait, I think I know what she’s going for. That would explain the Tommy Gun. Aerith let off another giggle as the seamster stallion took the picture in his own aura, putting on a pair of glasses to better see it, blinking a few times.