//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: The Eighth Element?! // by PaisleyPerson //------------------------------// Chapter 7 “I thought you said if we found Graphite, we’d find Torch,” Ditzy huffed. “Well, I thought we would. Things are different in this timeline, apparently.” The Doctor looked rather put out and dejected as the two walked away from the gallery empty-hooved. The gallery had indeed heard of Graphite. He was evidently an unsuccessful artist whom had attempted to display work there, but his work hadn’t been deemed fit to hang on their walls. But according to the receptionist, he had never arrived with any sort of assistant. In fact, the usually persistent artist hadn’t made an appearance in weeks, something for which she was particularly grateful. “This is hopeless! How are we going to find one pony in all of Vanhoover?” “Think, Doctor, think!” He stopped to knock his head for answers. “If you were an artist that made terrible paintings nopony wanted, what would you do?” “Doctor! That’s not very nice!” Ditzy scowled. “Back in our timeline, he was a very successful artist.” “Because he knew the right pony. His work wasn’t all that great even in our world, though. Gah! Stop distracting me. We’re supposed to find him, not criticize his art style.” “If his art didn’t work out, he might’ve taken on an office job. If that’s the case, he could be anywhere!” “That puts us back to square one. Think! Think! Let’s just hope for the moment that he stuck with his art. What else might he try?” “Doctor?” “Maybe there’s some other gallery nearby?” “Doctor, there’s-” “Or perhaps he took up teaching. Acrylic tried that for a term, didn’t she? Maybe-” “DOCTOR!” “Ow! No need to shout! I’m right here. What is it?” “He’s right there.” “What? Where?!” “There. Heading back into the gallery.” “The gray fellow?” “Yep. Wait, you’ve never met him?” “Nope. He looks awfully drab for an artist doesn’t he?” Ditzy shrugged. “Let’s just catch up before we lose him again!” She darted across the street, back through the doors of the gallery they had just exited. “Wait for me!” Her friend indignantly ran after her. The double doors closed behind Ditzy, just in time for the Doctor to smack into them. “OW!” Ditzy took no note. She was too busy seeking Graphite out amidst the sparse collection of ponies. He wasn’t too hard to find. The receptionist they had just finished speaking to looked exceptionally annoyed and unamused as Graphite tried to sweet talk his way to the manager’s office. “Mr. Sketch, I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times! Mr. Colour does not wish to see you!” “Aw, I’m sure he doesn’t mean that, doll. Bold Colour and I go way back! Surely he’s got room in his schedule for an old friend?” “No! Mr. Sketch, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” “Now, now, no need to be hasty. If you’d just let me see-” “Security!” The mare had had enough. Two intimidating guards glanced in her direction, and upon spying Graphite, instantly started over. Graphite nervously shuffled back. “Now, now, gentlecolts, why don’t we all just calm down?” “Mr. Sketch, sir!” The Doctor had quickly recovered from his crash and now giddily approached, as perky as ever. Everypony in the gallery froze except for the bouncy brown stallion, who continued to prance across the floor. When he reached Graphite, he slung a hoof over his shoulder as though they were old friends. “Excuse us gentlemen- er, colts! I believe this is all a big misunderstanding. Graphite, might we have a word outside?” “I- er, yes. Certainly.” Graphite nervously glanced again at the hulking security ponies, brushed himself off, swept his saddlebags from the receptionist’s desk and hastily followed the Doctor back outside. Only after all three of the company had exited did activity resume within the gallery. “Thanks for that,” Graphite coughed when they had put a comfortable distance between themselves and the building. “Never been kicked out of an establishment before. Those ponies obviously don’t know art when they see it.” “Yes, art, good,” the Doctor sniffed. “That’s actually what we’re here to talk to you about.” Graphite perked up instantly. “Really? Interested in commissioning a piece, eh? Well, you couldn’t have chosen a finer pony for the job. I guarantee-” “We’re not here to commission anything, Mr. Sketch,” Ditzy apologetically interrupted. “Oh,” Graphite halted his spiel. “We were actually hoping you knew a pony called Torchwood,” the Doctor continued. Graphite narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I know Torchwood. He was a good friend of mine, back in the day.” “Perfect!” Ditzy squealed. “Do you know where we could find him?” “Sorry,” Graphite shook his head. “We were about to open up a business together- an art gallery. The Painted Page, we’d have called it. But then he got a letter saying that his second cousin or something crazy like that was going back home, and Torch followed suit.” “That must’ve been Cedar,” Ditzy quietly whispered. “Cedar was one of the five thestrals that left the Everfree, but returned when he met Wild Flower.” “Right,” the Doctor whispered back. “I’m sorry, but what does any of this have to do with art?” “Hm? Sorry?” “You said you were here to talk to me about art,” he reminded. “Oh yes! I did say that, didn’t I? Well, Torchwood sort of relates back to art.” “He relates to Acrylic,” Ditzy put in. “Who’s another artist,” the Doctor added. “Who’s going to be his wife.” “Well, hasn’t happened yet, but here’s to hoping! Cheerio!” The brown stallion began trotting back to his TARDIS. “Cheerio? Really?” “Yeah, not my best one,” he shrugged in reply. Graphite watched them leave in complete and utter confusion. Well, at least they’d saved him from getting kicked out...