//------------------------------//
// Mr. Tock and Exposition 
// Story: Sepia Tock: Adventures of the Ponyville Clockmaker 
// by CanvasWolfDoll 
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Sepia Tock wasn’t in a good place when Trixie arrived at the Ponyville refugee camp. While she never claimed to be masterful of psychology (one of very few things she’s never claimed), it wasn’t exactly that hard to deduce.
“Excuse me, Sepia? What are you doing?” she asked when she approached his improvised work bench.
“I am building a clock!” Sepia said, “I’m a clock-maker, it’s what I do best!”
Trixie looked at the tools and materials he was working with.  “Really now," she said, “Will it be an especially good clock?”
“Oh yes, it will be the best clock in the world! It will tell you the time and date!” Sepia said, “I have hit a snag, though.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I just can’t teach this ferret to count!” Sepia said irritably.
“Could that, perhaps, be due to the fact your ferret appears to be a sock stuffed with turnips?” Trixie asked.
“That’s no excuse for laziness!” Sepia declared, then leaned over to Trixie’s ear, “Just between you and me, I think the ferret may have a few handicaps.”
Trixie blinked slowly. “Yes,” she said at last, “well, I hear that socks aren’t well known for their intellect.”
Sepia looked shocked and mildly offended, “My dear lady! I will have you know, just the other week, I attended a tea party with some delightful socks!”
“I’m sure you did.” Trixie said, reassuringly, “There wouldn’t happen to be somepony else Trixie could talk to, could there?”
“Well, you could always talk to my assistant,” Sepia said, “Colgate is such a very lovely filly. She always likes meeting new ponies. The two of you will hit it off nicely.”
“Where can Trixie find this Colgate?”
“Oh, Master Ragnarok is holding her hostage,” Sepia said, “Very scary, Master Ragnarok. Controls time, and wants me dead.”
“What?”
“Well, I think he wants me dead,” Sepia continued, “I’m not a hundred percent certain. He wants be defeated, at the very least. Mind handing me that screwdriver?” Sepia pointed to a rock.
Trixie levitated the rock to him.  “Are you feeling okay?” she asked in a careful tone.
“Well, besides the mental anguish of having my assistant kidnapped by a madpony who thinks I’m Doctor Whoof, with me powerless to stop him, and him refusing to take on anypony besides me, plus the physical beatings he scored on me through time trickery, I’ve been feeling pretty good,” said Sepia with a manic smirk, “Hand me a screw?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty loose as it is,” Trixie mumbled, “Is there anything Trixie, the Great and Powerful, can do to help?”
“Nah,” Sepia said, “I’m doing well enough with this clock on my own.” He looked at the unicorn, “How’ve you been?”
“Well, I wrote to Princess Luna like you suggested, and she was more than happy to let me use the Canterlot Library,” Trixie answered, “I was just on my way there when I heard about the awful problem you’ve been having here, so I thought I’d come by and see what I could do.”
Sepia paused, revelation erupting from his face.  “Trixie.” he said with a smile, “Do you think you could use your magic to make my ferret learn to count?”
Trixie looked at the sock.  “I don’t think even Celestia herself could do that.”
“Oh,” Sepia looked dejected. His ears popped up as another idea sprung into his brain.  “Wait, what if I asked the princesses to help me?”
“With the sock?”
“No no, Trixie,” Sepia said, “With Master Ragnarok! Surely they must have some idea about how to fix this! Trixie, fetch me paper and pen!”
Trixie gave Sepia a look that said “That is far below me.”
Sepia, regaining his senses, shook his head, retrieved the articles himself, and wrote a letter to the two princesses. When he was done, he called over Derpy.
“Yes, Doctor?” she asked.
“It’s Sepia,” the clock-maker said automatically, “I need you to take this letter to Canterlot and to the princesses straight away!”
Derpy saluted, “Aye aye, Doctor!” Derpy bolted off towards the general direction of Canterlot.
“About time,” Soarin said, revealing himself from behind a tree, “Took you forever to write that thing.”
“Soarin! Buddy! What’re you doing here?” Sepia said happily, “It feels like it’s been forever since I saw you!”
Soarin gave Sepia a reassuring pat, “Well, it’s only been a day, but I appreciate the sentiment. As for why I’m here…” Soarin fished a letter from his flight suit, passing it to Sepia, “Luna wanted me to get this to you. Unfortunately, due to time issues, I got here before I left, so I had to wait a bit so I don’t accidentally break something.”
“How did the date go?” Sepia said, opening the letter
“It got interrupted by the Gala,” Soarin answered.
Sepia looked up from weighing the ends of the letter down with the ferret and screwdriver-rock. “The Gala’s on?”
“Sepia, now’s not the time,” Soarin said, “You may want to save Colgate first.”
Sepia sighed, “Okay, okay, you’re right.” He turned to the letter.

My dear friend Sepia,
I write to you from a tea party I am hosting instead of attending the Grand Galloping Gala. It is quite the event, in which I, the puppets, Tia, and me again are in attendance. I would invite you to try and join us, but I know you have very important work to do, and I must not distract you from it. The situation you described in your letter is very unfortunate, and I am saddened you must face it. Celestia is distraught over the capture of her favorite student and her friends, and wishes me to impress upon you how much their rescue would mean to her.
Anyways, I think I should probably tell who you are truly going up against. To put it poetically, you are, indirectly, battling the mother of Celestia and me. She and our father are the creators of this world. Our father had the power to create mass and matter, and he created the lands and sea, from the biggest mountain, to the tiniest grain of sand. Our mother started the movement of time in this world. Their magics then created life, starting with my sister and I, then moving on to animals, plants, and such, gifting them a fraction of their power so the new life could create further life. However, as the world expanded, and life blossomed, they feared they’d be incapable of maintaining balance, so they crafted the three breeds of ponies to assist with the functions of the world, each acting, if you’ll excuse my pandering metaphor, as a cog in the larger clock that is our world.
Over time, the ponies took over all the smaller duties of the world, leaving only the sun and moon beyond of their capabilities. When my sister and I finally mastered the tasks ourselves, our parents found that they were no longer necessary. My father intended to fade into mythology, and join pony society to enjoy his art. My mother, who I suppose I take after, went mad from the feeling of being obsolete. She did horrid things, which I do not currently wish to relive, so you’ll have to take my word. My father was forced to step in. He found the greatest clockmaker in Equestria and, together, they crafted the perfect watch in which to capture Mother. After a fierce standoff, she was sealed within the watch, and those knowing of it were sworn to secrecy to prevent the artifact’s misuse. Today the all that is left of the dark time before my Mother’s imprisonment is the Everfree Forest.
We purposely lost track of the clock, leaving no record. Obviously, some fault in the plan has arisen, as you are now tasked with reclaiming the watch. Now, I cannot say for certain, but I am suspicious that Ragged Rocks, or Master Ragnarok as he calls himself, may be a descendent of the original clock maker. I dread what could have possibly driven him to do the things he has, and what he may do in the future if he cannot be stopped. Unfortunately, due to the inherit magic of my sister and I, we cannot come in contact with the watch, in fear that our Mother will be freed and do awful things.
Luckily, Ponyville has you to help them. Now I know you don’t wish to fight it, as you are not what the populace thinks you are, but I must insist it be you, alone, who retrieve the watch from him. Sorry to press such a dire directive onto you, but that is where we stand. If it makes you feel better, you will most likely be rewarded for your service, and I will make sure every publication credits you by the correct name. Good Luck
Your Friend,
Princess Luna
PS: I have given the mailpony a muffin as per your request, and she is very grateful. She also portrays the Brigadier General very well, which is also appreciated.

Sepia carefully rerolled the letter, setting it aside so he could add it to the rest of the letters once he got home. He looked at the supplies he’d attempted to make a clock with, ignorant how he intended to accomplish anything with what was laid out before him.
“So… what did it say?” Soarin asked.
Sepia shrugged, “It said… stuff… stuffy stuff. Important stuffy stuff. Secret stuffy stuff.”
Soarin nodded at Sepia’s words.  “Experience tells me that’s the best kind of stuff,” he said.
“I like stuffy stuff,” Trixie agreed, “However, how should I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, fix this?”
Sepia looked at Trixie, “Step one: stop with the grand language. No offense, but all this is very time sensitive, and…”
“Point made,” Trixie said, “Blunt language it is.”
“Good,” Sepia said, “Second: Soarin, could you still clear a sky in twelve seconds?”
“I’m afraid, at last check, it takes me thirteen seconds,” Soarin admitted, “Will that be a problem?”
“No, I just need somepony fast,” Sepia replied, “Trixie, you studied plenty about illusions, right?”
“The great…” Trixie started, but caught Sepia’s eye, “Yes, I’ve mastered illusions.”
“Can you replicate another pony?” Sepia asked.
“Pfft, child’s play,” Trixie answered.
“Disguise a pony with an illusion?”
“Even simpler,” Trixie answered.
“Good,” Sepia said, “I have a plan, and I’m going to need both of you.”

Master Ragnarok sat in the clock shop, smiling widely to himself, staring out the big storefront window. He had made a small bubble around the window so he could watch it snow. He always enjoyed snow. There was something relaxing about it. He watched the window fog up and a light layer of ice grow from the corners. He kept staring until he grew tired of it.
He looked to Colgate, her face frozen in simultaneous surprise and displeasure. “Staring contest!” he announced. He leaned forward slightly, staring straight into her unblinking blue eyes. The two stood, one frozen by time, one frozen by a madness that seemed to be radiating. Ragnarok kept it up for a full minute before he finally blinked.  “Oh, you cheater,” he said in a playful fashion, “You’re lucky I have too much integrity to cheat like you do, Miss Cheater-pony… face.”
Ragnarok slumped behind the sales counter, head on hooves, lost in thought. He sighed a sigh of boredom. He looked to his prisoners, crowding the store. He walked into the kitchen, and was struck by an idea. The water took mere moments for him to boil, and he infused the leaves into it even faster. He moved the seven ponies around the kitchen table, and laid out a spread. “Thank you all for attending the first weekly Ragnarok Social club meeting! Now, I know we have relatively few members at the moment, but I believe that gives it all a much desired intimate feel that socials should have.”
“Thank you for having us,” Ragnarok’s voice emanated from the still Twilight, “I just wanted to ask: what is your favorite book?”
“That is a very good question, my dear,” Ragnarok said, “Unfortunately, I never had much time to read. Then again, I suppose I have all the time I’ll ever need now, don’t I?”
“Excuse me, Master,” This time it was Fluttershy, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind passing the tea cakes?”
“Oh, the tea cakes, I forgot!” Ragnarok said, “Give me just a second.”
A second latter, a platter filled with delicacies materialized on the table, “There we go!”
“Ooh, cupcakes!”
“Easy now, pink one,” Ragnarok said, “You don’t want to get a cavity, do you?”
“You need to keep care of your teeth!”
“You’re right, Miss Companion,” he remarked, “Dental hygiene is very important.”
“Excuse, Master Ragnarok?”
“Yes, hatted one?”
“Would you mind relating to us your life story?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t want to hear that.” Master Ragnarok said with badly faked modesty.
Ragnarok voiced encouragement from various points around the table.
“Okay, okay.” Ragnarok waved his hooves back and forth slowly, “It all started when I was a young colt. My grandfather would relate to me the tale of the clock so perfect, so in synch that it contained time herself.” Ragnarok leaned in a bit, “Time’s a mare, you know. Anyways, my family, for generations, has been clock makers. My father, his father, his father, his aunt for some reason, her father, on and on, as long as there have been clocks, my family’s been making them.” Ragnarok ate a cupcake, “However, I observed that, when you get down to it, no one’s become famous from making clock, but everyone remembers a good villain.”
“Fascinating observation, Master!” The lavender one said.
“Indeed. So, I began hearing tales of Doctor Whoof, and I thought to myself ‘Well, there’s a way to be known by everyone!’ So I set out to be the greatest villain in Equestrian history, with step one being utterly defeating the greatest hero! So I decided what I needed was that watch. Hence, my cutie mark!”
Hoof stomps echoed.
“Thank you, thank you, I know, it’s utter genius,” Ragnarok smiled to himself, tapping a hoof, “I wonder how long until he’ll get here. I hope he doesn’t just skip our little date.” Ragnarok looked at Colgate, “You’re his companion, what do you think?”
Colgate said nothing.
Ragnarok idly tapped his hooves. He wondered back into the shop, and looked at the clocks for sale. He had to admit, they were excellently crafted. Very beautiful. Then again, the Doctor probably had plenty of time to learn a trade or two. Ragnarok went into the workshop, and looked at the works currently in progress. He stopped at one clock, and saw that it was running slow. It seemed the spring was over stretched. Ragnarok flipped it over, removed the back, and carefully removed the spring, found the proper replacement, and carefully threaded it in. He wound it and checked that it was working properly. He replaced the back. “How unprofessional.” He sighed. He went back to the store front and waited. He supposed he could’ve sped up time, but good things are worth waiting for, and there was snow to watch.