Sherlock walked out the train station and was met with a small street with no tarmac or cobblestoned road. Just grass. “ Housing. Thatched roofs, olden day style or maybe perhaps not. Canterlot held a castle and all its citizens lived in what I presume is an olden Victorian style. No electricity. But then the lights and trains wouldn't necessarily work without it. Rules out no electricity. Bakery, Shops, Library, farm, Stationary, Boutique … some market carts also. Ponies, as of now numbering in the forties. Closely held society. Just as predicted.....” Sherlock stopped in his tracks when noticing one pony walking slowly past him. An average cream mane pony but what Sherlock could tell about this pony was that she worked with the news paper printing line in Ponyvile.
“ But that's absurd.” Hissed Sherlock. He looked again at the hooves of said pony and at the small smudge of ink which he could tell was oil based, used mostly in news printing. Then there was the pen slightly hanging out her pocket along with the tell tale signs of wear at the top of her right shoulder. Suggests right hoofed and copious amounts of note taking. But all this meant what Sherlock thought wouldn't has in fact indeed happened. On principle he thought ponies would be different and he would be at a loss to try and fully decipher them. With the exception of class and possible attributes but anything else was void. This one thing made so much more doors open up. Sherlock smiled as he took a step back and took in all the ponies in view and let his mind rampage through them all.
“ Normal pony, earth maybe. Pegasi. Double species village … no, unicorn. Treble split society. All three races. One Librarian, one fashion designer, two confectionery, two bakery … partnered bakery. Bakery assistant, suggests family business. Four … ponies … farmers. Crops perhaps, no judging by the small pictures – tattoos perhaps – upon them, apple farmers. Definite family business. Age range from elderly to todle- young child. Three waiters, average chef, sous chef and various other attributes to the kitchen, ten kitchen staff. Two stationary shop owners. Three Journalists. Others either unemployed, financially trying to keep themselves hidden perhaps. No, just unemployed. Forty three in total as of no.”
“ Hmm, best not attract attention at the moment. Now where to work, that's the question. Wh-” Sherlock stopped himself, almost laughing as he thought about John telling him about speaking to himself. “ Well its not like you're here in the vicinity. Not like you can stop me. Quite the opposite.”
Sherlock contemplated upon his next move. Wondering how and when to get money, or if they even had money. That and where to try and stay. Before long he grew bored and decided he had, had enough of it. He glanced at a dark pink pony walking his direction “ Chalk on hooves, Chalk Eraser dust embedded into fur around hooves. Faint smile constantly. Small creases beside eyes suggest strain. High end job. Business or teacher. Teacher more likely with the evident smile.”
“ You!” Barked Sherlock suddenly and quite loudly to said pony. The pony stopped and looked at him startled.
“ Me?”
“ I need to know exactly where I can stay and also where to get some money.”
“ I … You can probably stay with some pony who's nice enough to let you. They all have at least one spare room-”
“ That's all I need.” Said Sherlock before he started walking. He was glad about that. That meant he need not get a job. Sherlock stopped suddenly and turned with a slight hint of guilt back to the pony who was still there. “ Sorry for the shout. Just wanted you to be quick and to the point. Are we done? Good.” And with that, Sherlock headed down what must have been the main street of Ponyvile. “ Now to find a willing participant.”
Sherlock walked and re-gauged all the ponies he had seen. Judging from his past experiences, he had a choice of three types. He had the librarian, the farmers or a complete stranger of his choosing. Personally Sherlock leaned towards the latter for obvious reasons. Apparently he didn't have to wait long because a purple pony walked towards him with a smile.“ Oh no! Not a library, I wanted a stranger. Well library could be good but that means she'll be one of those types.” Thought Sherlock as the mare stopped in front of him. Sherlock gave her half his attention. He thought it a treat to be giving someone normal at least half.
“ Hello there. I don't recall seeing you around here. Are you new?”
“ Obviously. I need to find somewhere to live for the moment.” Asked Sherlock curtly, wanting to get a straight answer.
“ Well an introduction would be nice to start of with don't you think.” Replied the mare. Sherlock frowned.
“ Sherlock Holmes, so glad we met. Now a place to live?”
“ Okay then. My names Twilight Sparkle …” Sherlock tuned out after hearing her name. He new these types. Rambling on about their status or whatever they have achieved in their boring arduous life. He rolled his eyes a few times. “ … and this is Ponyvile. So where are you from Sherlock.”
“ Canterlot.” Sherlock replied casually. Twilights eyes lit up immediately.
“ Really! I'm originally from there. Tell me how are things there. And why did you come here can I ask then.”
“ Things are splendid. No developments, changes or disturbances.” Said Sherlock. While saying this however his mind rattled out jobs for him to have occupied. “ Job, job, job. Police. No they have guards. Inspector? Detective? Inspector would be to suspicious. Detective is more inconspicuous.” Sherlock then smiled. “ Detective Miss Sparkle. Routine check up.” At this Twilight tilted her head confused.
“ I don't remember there ever being any detective branches in the royal guard. Well at least my brother never told me. Or Celestia for that matter-”
“ Recent addition to the guard. And in these times kept thoroughly restricted. You understand.”
“ Hmm. Well I guess I could right to the princess later about this. But until then, you said you were homeless?” Asked Twilight. At this Sherlock's ears picked up.
“ Clearly. I require at least one night somewhere.”
“ If its only one night then I have a spare room-”
“ Lovely. Shall we be off, I do like to be indoors at this time and I feel a chill coming on.” Said Sherlock. Saying anything to get this mare to hurry up.
“ I guess so. I'll show you to the library.”
“ Don't worry already know.” Replied Sherlock starting towards the gargantuan tree. Twilight did a double take before catching up to Sherlock.
“ So how long has this detective escapade been carrying on for?”
“ Two weeks.” Said Sherlock. This was the only real gamble he had taken since arriving. He truly did not know the history, be it recent or dated. And he didn't know if anything big enough to involve his made up branch of the 'royal guard' had occurred.
“ Not long after the changeling’s. Only another two weeks. Seems fitting to start this branch up. I'm glad we have ponies like you now.”
“ Indeed.” dead panned Sherlock.
“ You're not good with emotions are you?”
“ And how did you, deduce that finality?” Asked Sherlock. Twilight shrugged.
“ You haven't really smiled or done anything other than say things in the same tone. That tells me you're either unhappy or just hide everything. So which one is it?”
“ Use your mind and think. I train to go undercover so....”
“ You hide it all. Alright I can see why. Now I don't want you to start questioning any of my friends or anypony in the town for that matter. We've been through allot already. Is that clear.” Twilight suddenly said. Sherlock detected many flickers of emotion running through Twilight and many theories accumulated in Sherlock's mind to retaliate. But he thought better of it. He knew he didn't even have to utter a single question to know half the life of somepony.
“ Transparently.” Replied Sherlock. Twilight nodded with a friendly smile. They had reached the house by then and Twilight opened the door first, allowing Sherlock into its depths. He smiled before getting to work. “ Librarian obviously. Books listed by A to Z. Chairs set exactly parallel and perfect. No dust, no misplaced papers. This pony either has symptoms of some sort of cleanliness disorder or she uses this place far to often and has every use for its hygiene. Probably the latter. Amount of stationary and used quills in the bin suggests a very studious pony and keen to learn. Result, knowledgeable pony with perhaps a mild disorder in OCD but very enthusiastic and well willed judging by her conversation.” And with that. Sherlock turned to Twilight with a smile.
“ Very well kept library Miss Sparkle. Where's the other resident, Spike may I ask. And why does he write to Celestia for you so often? And while we're on the subject of my asking you. Is Spike you're brother because he's certainly younger than you?
Twilight stood staring dumbfounded at Sherlock. “ How could you know this. Of all the things, I haven't even told you I write to her or Spike staying here. How!?”
Sherlock rolled its eyes. “ Its clearly obvious … No?” From the look he got he rolled his eyes and sighed as if it were so easy to see. “ Fine. The chairs. Two of them are being used. You can see the slight dips in each of them. Could be just one pony using both? No, one chair has had slightly more use and a heavier pony using it while the other has had less. Look at the table. One edge of it has some scratch marks on it suggesting that the pony is younger than you due to not handling cutlery correctly and that the marks come down to the parallel side of the table suggest that his height is not adequate to properly reach the topside. The name? The small notes on the desk have all been addressed to Celestia and are all signed by you. One note has been signed specifically by Spike on the far right. How is he a male? Could just be a weird choice of name? Unlikely. Look at the words. Comparing both words, one has slightly, not much but a subtle change in writing. Yours have a more elegant line to it while the other is just the slightest but rougher. The style more commonly seen in males. Most of the letters have been written by Spike while a minority are by your own accord. Honestly these things are obvious.”
Again for a second time. Twilight stood speechless. Figuratively speaking, her jaw was hitting the floor. “ But that's … amazing?”
“ Oh don't do that. I already have another person already running thin on words in the dictionary to use to adequately describe this.”
“ But, it is. How could you know that.”
“ I suppose I'm very good.” Said Sherlock casually.
Twilight composed herself and tried to speak only to close her mouth. A full minute passed by before she finally spoke. “ Spike isn't here at the moment. And no he isn't my biological brother. More like a step brother. But I see him as a real brother in my eyes.”
“ Evidently so.” Replied Sherlock. He stood there watching Twilight for a moment and she bagan to feel unnerved.
“ Perhaps I should show you your room for tonight?”
“ Splendid idea. Lead on Miss Sparkle.” Twilight led Sherlock into another part of the library. This part was clearly a bedroom. Small and comfortable. Sherlock nodded in approval. He walked around the bed admiring the blue bed sheets with golden stars on them and chuckled. Twilight's ears perked up.
“ Did you just laugh?”
“ I'm not emotionless Miss Sparkle. I just choose to use them when I want. I find the merely get in the way. Clouding judgement and thought process. You should try relieving yourself of them. You'll find the speed you can think and acquire knowledge will rise exponentially.”
“ Thanks but I think I'll pass on that one. I rather like emotions.” Replied Twilight with a smile. Sherlock shrugged and laid down on the bed.
“ Goodnight Miss Sparkle.” He said.
“ Goodnight Sherlock.” Said Twilight with a smile before leaving the room. Sherlock found himself smiling. He knew this was coming to an end. Two hours left and by the time he slept an average of eight hours, he'd wake up back in the real world. He knew he'd be in hospital so he mentally prepared himself to wake up there and prepare for what he knew would be an onslaught of 'why did you do that' and 'were you insane'. Most likely from John. He laughed again as he slowly but surely let sleep take over him.