//------------------------------//
// Mr. Tock and the Delivery 
// Story: Sepia Tock: Adventures of the Ponyville Clockmaker 
// by CanvasWolfDoll 
//------------------------------//

Sepia was moping. He didn’t do so often, but today he had had a reason.
“Oh, come on, Sepia, I hear it didn’t go over that well anyways,” Colgate tried to reassure her boss as she dusted the stock, “Got interrupted by some sort of unforeseen chaos.”
“I fixed their clock tower. The least they could’ve done was to send me a ticket to the gala.” Sepia grumbled.
“I pretty sure Octavia will have plenty more performances in the future,” Colgate replied with a roll of the eye.
“I can’t usually afford tickets,” Sepia crossed his front legs grumpily, “Especially for the full quartet performances.”
Colgate hung the duster up, “Okay, go ahead and mope, Mr. Mopey-face. I’ll just go and build a clock.”
“Go ahead.” Sepia waved her into the back, and continued to watch the shop.
A dark gray pegasus, mane and tale a shade lighter than his body, and orange eyes walked in. He smiled absently, glancing at the clocks around him. His eyes lit up when they landed on the shop owner, “Hey! Aren’t you Doctor Whoof?”
“No.” Sepia said, not wanting any further irritants, “Can I help you?”
The pegasus leaned towards the clockmaker, “Are you sure you’re not the Doctor?”
“I am a clock maker and proprietor of this store. May I help you find something?”
The pegasus backed off, but retained his knowing stare, “I am Ragged Rocks,” he told Sepia with a cheeky grin, “and I am looking for a watch.”
“A watch?” Sepia asked in a voice dripping with annoyance.
“Yes! A silver one!” Ragged answered grandly, “A special one!”
Sepia pointed to the wall where all the watches hung, “We keep the watches on that wall. Take your pick.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Ragged said as he walked over to the watches, paying special attention to silver pocket watches. He gave each one a dissatisfied frown, until he reached the end of the wall where sat the cardboard box that housed the older, outdated watches. The gray pegasus dug to the bottom, let out a satisfied “Ah-ha!” and pulled out a watch covered in what seemed to be an eon’s worth of dust. Rugged sat the clock down, dusted it off with a wing, bucked with glee, and took it to Sepia. “I want this watch!”
Sepia looked at the watch. The cover had the image of a winged hourglass with tiny cogs filling the bulbs. Interesting design, Sepia thought as he popped it open to check that it still functioned. The inside face was glass, showing the clockwork that rested within. Sepia figured it was one of his father’s products. “Right,” he said, “I’ll sell this to you for, let’s say, twenty bits.”
“I’ll give you fifty.” Ragged said, plopping a small bag onto the sales counter.
Sepia looked at the odd Pegasus. “You don’t understand how to haggle.”
“Oh, I understand,” Ragged said, “I also know clocks.” Ragged presented his flank. A pocket watch was there, “However, it’s not every day Doctor Whoof himself sells you a watch. That service alone is worth an additional thirty bits.”
“Fine, fifty bits.” Sepia conceded.
“Thank you, Doctor.” Ragged took the watch and exited.
Sepia watched the pony leave.  “You’re welcome?” He shook his head and muttered, “That’s one nutty pony.”
“Mail call, Doctor!” Derpy called as she entered.
“You better not have a forgotten letter from Canterlot with you,” Sepia said, resuming his funk.
“I haven’t forgotten any mail lately,” Derpy said, then paused.  “Well, not any of yours, at any rate,” she corrected herself.
“Goody,” Sepia sarcastically commented, “Nice to know I just wasn’t considered.”
“What’s the matter, Doctor?” Derpy asked.
Sepia sighed, “Oh, nothing for you to worry your ditzy self over. May I have my mail?”
“One mail delivery coming up!” Derpy said, then fished out the envelopes, plopping them in front of Sepia, “See you tomorrow!”
“See ya,” Sepia said as he sorted the mail, stopping at an envelope he recognized. A year ago, in hopes of drumming up business he had made a mail order catalogue. For a good few months, he got the occasional letter in the self-addressed and prepaid envelopes he had included, mostly from ponies furious that he was trying to use the image of Doctor Whoof for personal gain, but he did get the occasional legit orders before they petered out and he elected not to publish an updated catalogue. He studied the envelope, before coming to a conclusion. “Colgate! Can you open this for me?” He yelled into the workshop, “I’m misplaced my letter opener.”
“Sometimes I worry you’re only using me for my horn,” Colgate said as she came in to open the envelope for the earth pony.
“Don’t be silly,” Sepia said, “You also make delicious coffee cake.”
Colgate just rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “Gee, good to know I make such a positive impact on your life.”
“Mind handing me the old catalogue while you snark?” Sepia said as he unfolded the letter. He almost immediately let out a groan as he read the first couple of lines.

Dear Tock Clock Shop,
I, the GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie, am in need of a new clock. My previous clock, along with my home and cart, was utterly destroyed in a Starry Bear related incident. As such Trixie finds herself having to rebuild, and would much appreciate your highest quality clock within the pay range of a traveling performer, and requests make number 63-05. Trixie would also appreciate it if you could get the clock to her home in Hoofington as quickly as possible.
Astoundingly yours,
Trixie
The Great and Powerful

Sepia looked the make up in the catalogue. It was grand looking wall clock, though cheap and battery powered. While he admitted they had their place, Sepia had always leaned towards the elegance of clocks that ran on wound springs. “Colgate, one of us going to have to make a delivery,” he said.
“Okay?” Colgate said, popping her head out, “Why do you sound so reluctant?”
“It’s for Trixie.”
“Oh…” Colgate said, “Can’t we just, you know, mail it?”
The two clocksmiths paused, the image of a wall-eyed pegasus coming to mind. “Tin toy race?” Sepia suggested.
“Seems fair,” Colgate answered, walking over to the low table to select her champion: a train. Sepia carefully considered the remaining toys, and selected a silver contraption that vaguely resembled a dog, if a boxy one. It had always served him well.
They placed their tin racers next to each other on the desk. “Terms are this,” Sepia said, “You will wind both equally, and then release. Which ever gets closest to the edge of the counter without going over doesn’t have to go. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed,” Colgate said. An aura surrounded the two toys as their keys twisted. Sepia watched that they turned at equal speed and had an equal number of turns. “Ready?” Colgate asked.
“Go.” Sepia replied.
The tin toys shot forward, keeping neck to neck, racing to the impending cliff. Slowly, much to Sepia’s horror, the train began to pull forward, attempting to overtake the dog. He winced as it gained distance. Ting. A wheel popped off the train, and began to wobble. “Come on…” both whispered. The toys kept going, rapidly losing speed, until, finally, they reached the final spurts of movement, growing closer to the end of the desk. The dog stop at exactly the end as the train began to wobble. Breaths were held when, suddenly, Sepia’s dog let out one last spurt, and fell to failure. Colgate let out a victorious cheer.
Sepia leaned down to retrieve the toy.  “You always put in extra effort, don’t you?” he asked it.
“Affirmative.” Colgate said in a pseudo-robotic voice, mockingly.
“Don’t do that.” Sepia said, placing the toy back on the sales table, “Well, I’ll go make the delivery then.”
“Have fun,” Colgate said with a wave, “Don’t get eaten by anything scary.”
Sepia paused at the door, “What if I get eaten by something cute?”
“Then I’d be okay with it,” Colgate answered, “Bye now.”

Sepia had elected to take the direct route through the Everfree forest. After a close call with a particularly grumpy jackalope, Sepia made it to Hoofington, delivery in saddlebag.
Hoofington was composed largely of travel wagons, the town being the home of many road show performers during the off-season, which it was currently. There were plenty of non-mobile buildings, mostly restaurants and stores, and the occasion house for those who lived in town year-round, but for the most part the town was composed of sub communities of caravans. Here and there ponies would cross implied borders and join another group around their gathering spot. Sepia looked around for any sign of the egotistical unicorn, but saw no hint. He walked up to a group at random.
“So I’m thinking, next season, why don’t we perform the adventures of Doctor Whoof?”
Sepia turned around and chose a different camp.
“So, my concept is this: we find a popular character from fanon, but portray him as aware and loatheful of his reputation,” a brown pegasus pitched to his peers.
“That’s a horrible idea. Go bother somepony else,” an earth pony, clearly the leader of the troupe, told the writer.
Sepia cautiously walked up as the dejected pegasus fluttered off. “Excuse me,” he asked, “but could any of you tell me where I could find Trixie? I have a delivery for her.”
“Trixie?” the leader said, “Hoofington’s resident ham?”
“Yes?” Sepia hazarded.
“She’s at the library.”
“Thank you,” Sepia said, “Have a nice night.” He walked off, finding the town library, the biggest building in town. Like all the permanent structures, it had a large porch for use as an improvised stage. A single, freshly built wagon stood nearby. Sepia entered the building.
“Confound these magic books!” Trixie yelled as she threw an offending tome at the wall, “Nothing but illusions and stage tricks.”
“Hello, Trixie?”
“Who dares bothers the Great and Powerful Trixie during her darkest hours?” Trixie announced.
“I’m from Tock Clock Shop,” Sepia said, “You ordered a clock.”
Trixie eyed the delivery-colt, “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I’m from Ponyville,” Sepia said, “You nearly got my store crushed by a rampaging constellation.”
“Now hold on,” Trixie said, “in my defense, that was the work of those two irresponsible unicorn boys, what were their names, Slugs and Snaps?”
Sepia had to concede the point, though he didn’t vocalize it. “Anyways, I’ve got the clock you wanted,” he said.
“Thank you, how much does the Great and Powerful Trixie owe you?”
“It’s a cheap clock, so… about fifteen bits?”
Trixie winced slightly at the price, “You wouldn’t happen to have a discount for great and powerful customers, would you?”
“You can’t afford a fifteen bit clock?” Sepia asked with confusion.
“It’s not exactly easy when one is constantly trying to outrace bad reviews.”
“Maybe if you actually did the things you claimed,” Sepia suggested.
“What do you think I’ve been doing, spending my days and nights in this place?” Trixie asked indignantly, “Trying to find a good pancake recipe?” Trixie’s shoulders sagged, “All I want was respect and admiration, to hear my name spoken by the masses in joyous wonderment.” She smiled absently, “To walk down the road and see the other ponies pause and watch you, gossiping over your grand adventures.”
“It’s not as exciting as it seems,” Sepia muttered.
“Instead, I get nothing but scowls and contempt.” Trixie once again sagged, “Now I have to work even harder to earn my place in society.”
Sepia looked at the distraught magician. He felt an urge to try and comfort her. “I’ll tell you what, how about I give you this clock, and you’ll just owe me the bits.”
“Trixie, the Great and Powerful, doesn’t need your charity,” Trixie snapped.
“How about Trixie the small and pitiful?” Sepia replied.
“She’d appreciate the kind gesture, yes,” Trixie conceded.
Sepia retrieved the clock from his saddle bags, placing it before the unicorn, “Here you go then.”
“Thanks.” Trixie said, ears drooped.
“You know…” Sepia said, feigning a casual tone, “In my experience, it’s always better to be known for who are as opposed to who’re not.”
“What would you know about it?” Trixie said, “You’re just an errand colt.”
“Actually, I made that clock.” Sepia said, “As for how I’d know: have you ever heard of a pony called Doctor Whoof?”
Trixie’s eyes lit up, “Know him! I adore him!” She began to bounce a little, “I’ve always dreamed of meeting him. Maybe if he’d take me along in his magic box, Trixie would gain her place in society.”
This is going to hurt, Sepia thought, “Well, the thing is, he doesn’t actually exist.”
“Blasphemer!” Trixie growled.
“Now hold on,” Sepia said, “Let me try that again: I’m Doctor Whoof.”
Trixie gave him a suspicious eye, “Are you now?”
“Well, yes… in a way.” Sepia continued, “One day, someone started telling stories about how I was Doctor Whoof, and it… just kind of spread.”
“Lucky you,” Trixie said sourly.
“Hey, I never said I enjoy the attention,” Sepia said.
“So… what’re you trying to say here?” Trixie asked, “Because, I did find this body-swap spell and…”
“No.”
“But…”
“No, don’t you dare.”
“I was joking, anyways,” Trixie said, adding “mostly…” under her breath.
“Look, all I’m trying to say is: be yourself,” Sepia said, “It does neither you, nor anyone else, any favors when who you actually are gets overshadowed by what you, or anyone else, for that matter, claims you are.”
“But, that’s what I’ve trying to do,” Trixie said, “I’d like for other ponies to see me the way I do.”
“Well then, I guess that’s an admirable goal.”
“Unfortunately, there aren’t any spells of actual merit in any of these books.” Trixie kicked over a small stack of grimoires.
“Perhaps you should try a different library?” Sepia hazard.
“Unlikely,” Trixie said, “I can’t show my face again in Ponyville, and the Canterlot library is only open to students of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, or by invitation.” Trixie sighed, “Those are the only notable libraries within a day’s journey.”
“Well, how hard is it to get an invitation?” Sepia asked.
“Only the Princess may grant invitations,” Trixie said, “I’m sure Celestia’s prized student hasn’t been talking me up.”
Sepia nervously hoofed at the ground, “Well, what if I told you I had a friend who might be able to help?”
“Really?”
“I can’t promise you anything but…” Sepia sighed, “There’s a certain lonely princess who might appreciate the occasional letter.”
Trixie looked confused.
“I’m talking about Princess Luna.” Sepia clarified.
“Oooh.” Trixie chimed, “I forgot she was around.”
“Just, promise me you’ll stop lying to ponies, okay?”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie will try her best,” Trixie announced.
“A little less of that would be nice, but it’s your call,” Sepia said, “I hope you manage to make a name yourself.” He turned to leave.
“Hold on!” Trixie yelled after him.
“Yes?”
“You never introduced yourself,” Trixie said.
“Oh. I’m Sepia Tock,” Sepia said.
“Sepia Tock…” Trixie tried out the name, “It lacks a certain kick, don’t you think?”
“It’s served me well thus far,” Sepia defended.
“You sure you don’t want to be Doctor Whoof?”
“Pretty sure,” Sepia said, once again moving to leave.
“Hold on!” Trixie bellowed again.
“Yes?” Sepia was beginning to get riled up.
“Uh… thanks for talking to me like I’m a decent pony,” Trixie said, “I rarely get that these days.”
Sepia paused, “You’re welcome,” he said, trying again to leave.
“Hold-”
Sepia sighed and looked at Trixie with weary eyes.
“Have a nice day,” Trixie beamed.
“Uh-huh.” Sepia waved a hoof and finally left the library.

“So, how’d it go?” Colgate asked.
“Wasn’t bad,” Sepia answered as he walked in.
“Oh that’s good,” Colgate said with a glimmering smile.
Sepia paused, “Colgate… is there something I should know about?”
“Well, I just saw a flyer for a show, and I’d think we should go see it,” Colgate said, “It’d be fun!”
Sepia looked at the nervous face of his assistant. “It’s a Doctor Whoof show, isn’t it?”
“Maybe…” Colgate said, tapping her hooves together innocently.
“Why does it come to town?”
“Next week!” Colgate answered, “Can we see it, please?”
Sepia glared at Colgate. “Fine, but you owe me.”
“Thank you,” Colgate said, and pranced off into the workshop.
Sepia sighed and sat behind the counter.  “I need to stop trying to please every horned pony I see…”