//------------------------------// // Tick-Tock Goes the Clock // Story: The Drums of War: How to live as a Timepony // by ShackledTime //------------------------------//   We continued to go about our conversation of ‘who’d win in what fight’ for a bit, laughing when we would get into debate of how powerful each thing was: Link VS Cloud, Samus VS Master Chief, etc. . It was a good 15 or so minutes until I heard Tyler’s phone go off, Tyler went to look at the caller ID, but I was almost sure I knew who it was.   “It’s dad,” Tyler said (bingo), showing me the screen before answering. “Hello?”   I waited as Tyler talked to him before he suddenly held it in my direction. “He wants to talk to you,” Tyler said.   So, I pulled off to the side of the road and took the phone in my hooves. “Yeah, dad?” I quickly answered, unsure of how he would react, I mean, he knew I was a brony, but still...   “Wow, you even have his voice,” was the first thing I heard him say over the slight static.   “Uh, yeah...” I said, slightly confused, “so, I take it Tyler told you who I am?”   “Yeah,” he replied with a chuckle, “and I gotta say; you’ve got to be the luckiest Doctor Who fan ever at this point.”   Well that’s a relief, he takes it as a good thing... kinda. “Eh, I’d say that role would have to go to whoever got the Doctor himself.” I suddenly had a flush of memories come to me, images of the Doctor, as both a childhood friend, and a lifelong rival of mine- er, the Master’s.   I was so caught up in them that I only got half of what my dad asked, “-it like being a Timelord?”   “Huh? Oh, well, I don’t need to sleep, that’s a plus,” I stated, “and I know just about every alien race and language ever made.”   “Nice,” he complimented, “what about the physical stuff?”  I thought about that for a moment, thinking of the different things a timelord can do. Experimentally, I stuck out my tongue and tasted the air, which tasted strongly of burnt ozone and warm oxygen. “Well, I can analyze things, just by tasting the air.” I turned to Tyler for a moment, “Oh and Tyler, it’s going to rain in 4 minutes and 26 seconds, might want to roll up your window.”   I could hear my dad laughing at this point; him being a Doctor Who fan himself, he must think it’s awesome to be able to do this stuff. But, just like Tyler, I will not tell him he might lose me to the over 900 years worth of memories in my head.   I heard some of his co-workers talking, a familiar voice saying, ‘Dude, I don’t care if he’s a freaking god, he still got turned into a pastel horse’, swiftly followed by an ‘ow’, most likely Mathew, he’s kinda the joker at the workplace, probably watches MLP himself.   “Well, I just wanted to check up on you two,” my dad said as he returned to his phone, “just, make sure you don’t get hurt.”   “Dad, I’ve got a laser screwdriver, I’m gonna be fine,” I said, smirking.   “Oh, Tyler never told me about that,” he replied, “you need to be careful with that, killed Jack a few times.”   “Don’t worry,” I reassured him, “it’s non-lethal now, it was broken when I found it, and human tech only got it working to a degree.”   “Well, still, don’t go blowing stuff up with it.”   “I won’t.” I said, the Master making a rather upsetting comment at that, the drums following his words. ‘Huh, I forgot about the other ways I would torture those who would cross me; compression, internal expansion, those were days I’d rather not repeat.’   ‘Try not to think about it,’ I thought back, ‘I think your memories are getting to me.’   “Okay, see you when this is all over, bye.” I said waiting for him to confirm that he heard me.   “Yeah, bye.” he said, hanging up.   I hooved Tyler his phone got back on the road, trying to keep the my mind on anything other than my- The Master’s memories. I sighed, focusing on the rest of the trip, and how I was going to signal the others when I get there. ‘Maybe I could put up some flyer, tell them where I am.’ I thought, stopping at an intersection. ‘No, that won’t work, the State’s too big for flyers to work.’ the Master added.   Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a group of four or five people, staring at me, all of whom were wearing the same letters, P.A.P.A, somewhere on their clothes.    ‘Don’t look at them.’ the Master mentally ordered me.   ‘Why?’ I asked in my head.   ‘I got a glance at them, and judging from the body language, they’re looking for a fight.’   ‘Right.’ I confirmed, the light changing to green, allowing me to avoid their piercing eyes as I drove on. **** **** ****   I looked through the rain that had started, seeing a billboard that read, ‘Now entering Tennessee’. Looking at the digital clock on the dashboard, I saw it was 3:16, we’d arrive in a decent amount of time. Now if only the rain would let up, I’d be able to try and make something to signal the others... I kept thinking about it as I drove into the city, the drums a mental clock in my head, it’s gotten to the point that I could tell how long I’ve been thinking by counting how many times the drums rang, 924 repetitions, 15 minutes and 24 seconds, god I’m bored of driving.   I decided to pull into a Golden Corral, not really hungry, more, just so I can stretch my legs. So, Tyler and I had to rush inside, the rain just about drenching my coat. When we finally got inside, we were greeted with the same odd stare as before they returned to their endless buffet of food. “Ah, it feels good to finally stretch,” I said, throwing my forehooves forward, allowing me to get a few kinks out of my legs.   After limbering up a bit, I got back into a normal standing position, walking around before a man came up to me.   “I’m sorry,” he began, obviously an employee, “but I’m going to have to ask you to dry yourself before you walk around.”   “Oh, my apologies,” I say, quickly removing myself from the red carpet and going over to the rubber mat at the entrance, “would you be able to lend me a towel?”   “Of course,” he replies, going to retrieve one.   And so, I waited, greeting the other slightly drenched customers that walked in as I stood there, even getting a few hugs from kids. After another minute, the man returned with a red towel.   “Here you are sir,” he said in the most polite way possible as he handed it to me, though it seemed a bit forced, like he didn’t want to have me, but didn’t want to turn down something that would increase the restaurant's popularity, even if it is temporary. “Would you care for a table?”   “Thank you,” I said, finishing drying off, “but I’m not hungry at the moment, though, I would care for a drink. And don’t worry, I can pay.” I finish by pulling out my wallet from my collar.   “Very well,” he said, “what drink would you like?”   Tyler was the first to answer, “I’ll have a Mountain Dew.”   “And I will have strawberry fanta, you you don’t mind.” I followed up.   He went back behind the counter, tallying up the cost, as well as having another person prepare the drinks.   “Your total is $2.40,” he said the numbers showing on the register.   I handed him a five, and the other person gave Tyler the drinks. Tyler immediately took a long sip of him before giving me my glass. I took it in my grasp, the container seeming to be glued to my hoof to anyone looking at first. **** **** **** ****   As it turns out, having a pony in the place encouraged a lot of people to come by, from children to teens, and even whole families. Maybe I could use this to my advantage.   “Okay,” I said to the crowd that had gathered to see me, “now, currently, I’m very glad you all have come, just to see me, but, right now, I’m looking for a couple of friends, so, if it isn’t too much to ask, could some of you make sure to mention that you saw me here, especially to a grey pegasus mare? I’d greatly appreciate it.”   In response, I was given several peoples cooperation, some of them put up posts on their Facebooks, others promised to tell any other ponies they see about me, and just about everyone wished me luck. Looks like I was going to be getting popular fast, maybe even faster than when I ran for Prime Minis- NO, not me, the Master, damnit this is getting difficult...