Sepia Tock: Adventures of the Ponyville Clockmaker

by CanvasWolfDoll

Mr. Tock and the Play

The Doctor ran, hooves beating the ground. Not far behind, a Dalek pursued. He had split off from his companion earlier, and he desperately hoped she was okay. Suddenly, he found he was cornered. He turned and faced his hated enemy. The Dalek got closer with every breath, horrible murder on its mind.

“This is terrible,” Sepia said.

“I know!” Colgate said, “How will he get out of this one?”

“He looks nothing like me!” Sepia said, “He's purple, that's obviously a paper cutout of my cutie mark, and why is he wearing celery?”

Colgate sighed, “The celery turns purple in the presence of certain poisonous gases.”

Sepia looked at his assistant with a look of surprise and curiosity, “How do you know that?”

“I read the expanded material,” Colgate admitted with a blush, “Something the stories are actually quite good.”

“Why is he so afraid of that trash can?” Sepia continued on, “One firm kick and it's immobilized. Then you just walk away, job's done, crisis averted.”

“Oh, you're no fun.” Colgate stuck her tongue out at Sepia.

“It's a trash can!”' Sepia said.

The Doctor's companion entered from the other side of the stage wielding a cork gun, “Hey, bucket head! Over here!” She yelled at the Dalek, firing the gun. The tin monster turned to face her. The Doctor pulled a flashlight from a pocket, flickering it at the evil tin monster. The audience (well, most of them) cheered.

“It's a flashlight.” Sepia noted with confusion.

“It's not the flashlight,” a pale blue pegasus sitting next to him said, “It's what the flashlight represents.”

“Oh?” Sepia said with a skeptical brow raise.

“It represents the absolute glory of the low production value of off-season roadshows,” the pegasus answered, “You just can't find this level of camp during tour season.” He then pointed to a half consumed pie by his feet, “Plus they have terrific pie.”

“They've got pie?” Colgate asked with excitement.

“Oh yes, free to donators,” the pegasus pointed to a table discreetly set up at the back of the viewing area, with a jar labeled ‘Donations, please.’ The rest of the table was covered with various baked goods, a stack of unconstructed pink boxes at the end.

“You're helping fund this?” Sepia asked, slightly indignant.

“What can I say? I enjoy campy, off-season roadshows,” the pegasus answered with a shrug, “Also, pie. I like pie.”

“Who doesn't?” Colgate replied, and extended a hoof, “I'm Colgate.”

The pegasus glanced around, then met the hoof. “Soarin Hazard,” he said.

Sepia and Colgate sat awestruck. “You're Soarin? The Soarin? Of the Wonderbolts?” Colgate finally blurted out, overcoming the initial shock of encountering celebrity.

Soarin hushed Colgate, “Keep it down. Yes, that Soarin.” He checked to insure no one had heard.

“…and your last name is Hazard?” Sepia asked, giving Soarin an amused smirk.

“If you were a member of the Wonderbolts, would you advertise your name as 'Soarin Hazard'?” Soarin asked, hooves extended in a dramatic fashion, “I sound like an obstacle!”

“I didn’t recognize you without your flight suit,” Colgate observed.

“No one ever does,” Soarin said with both relief and sadness.

Sepia considered this, “So… Soarin… where does one buy a…”

“You’re not getting a flight suit,” Colgate interrupted harshly, “You’ll look silly prancing around your shop in a flight suit.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Sepia muttered.

“I got you to attend this show, didn’t I?” said Colgate with a wink.

Sepia tried to come up with a retort, but found himself lacking.

The Doctor pranced into his TARDIS, represented by a blue refrigerator box with a hole in the back leading into the interior set. “Yet another adventure finished!” He cheered to his companion as she followed him in. “Where do you want to go next?” He asked in his hammy tone, one hoof resting on the poorly painted control hub, the other pointed 45 degrees upward.

“I don’t know,” the companion spoke in a stilted tone from her side of the console, and then turned to the audience, “Where do you think we should go?”

Sepia made an impolite suggestion.

The two actors on stage froze for a brief moment to recover their mental footing. “Well, my dear companion, we can never know until we get there! Allons-y!” He pulled a lever as the curtains closed.

The audience began to awkwardly stamp their hooves, unsure of what to make of the performance. Soarin, however, was extra enthusiastic. “Bravo! Amazing! Encore!” Soarin cheered as the rest of the audience walked away. Soarin finally stopped applauding once most of the crowd had gone. “Well, that was fun, don’t you think?” he asked.

“No, no I don’t,” Sepia said, standing up. Soarin gawked at his cutie mark.

“Wait a minute!” Soarin pointed at Sepia’s mark, “You’re Doctor Whoof, aren’t you?”

“Yes he is,” Colgate answered before Sepia could get snippy.

“Sweet apple pie, I never thought I’d actually get to meet you!” Soarin said, trying, and failing, to restrain his excitement.

“Right,” Sepia said, “It’s been lovely meeting you. I’m leaving.” Sepia trotted off, mumbling to himself as he escaped the mutual celebrity encounter.

“Hm,” Soarin scratched his chin, “I never imaged the real Doctor would be so grumpy.”

Colgate giggled. “Well, truth be told, Doctor Whoof doesn’t exist,” she said, “It’s just a bunch of rumors that sprang up about him. His real name is Sepia. Nice guy, really.”

Soarin gave Colgate a skeptical look, “Why’d you tell me he’s Doctor Whoof then?”

“Because he hates it.”

“I see.” Soarin stood for a moment, watching the clockmaker. “Suddenly the flight suit thing makes sense,” he said, “Granted, you’re right that he’d look silly, but fame is hard.” He balanced what was left of his pie on his head and started to stroll with Colgate. “At least I can take off the suit and blend in,” he concluded.

“You’re like a superhero!” Colgate said with a grin.

“Well… I guess you could say that,” Soarin looked at the clouds, “It’s not easy, being a Wonderbolt; a lot is expected of you. Young peagasi look up to me, so I have to be a good role model. Then those same fans grow up and become competition, so I need to constantly up my game to keep ahead of those gunning for my spot.” He rubbed his temples. “Everyday, other peagasi are getting faster, stronger, and better than the previous applicants. The last Young Flyers completion, there was one who broke the light barrier! How do I cope with that?” He paused to take a calming bite of his pie. “She did it while saving my flank, too.” He put the pie onto his back, and resumed walking, “It’s so nice to take a break, see a show, and just let the stress deflate.”

Colgate frantically tried to find words to reassure the celebrity, “Well… that must be very stressful,” she tried awkwardly.

Colgate looked back at the sky. “I used to be a weather pony, you know,” he said, then took a prideful look, “Could clear the sky in twelve seconds flat, didn’t even break sweat.”

“Really now?” Stupid Colgate, you’re talking to Soarin! Stop being an idiot!

“So-” Soarin said, then stopped when he was struck by an awkward realization, “Oh dear, I’ve been selfish. I don’t even recall your name!”

“Oh! It’s Colgate.”

“Colgate. Lovely name,” Soarin flashed a charismatic smirk, “So, Colgate, what do you do?”

“I’m an assistant clockmaker.” Colgate answered through her slight blush.

“Oh, that must be exciting!” Soarin replied with sincerity.

“Yes, it is.” Colgate said. “It’s like… you know, great, assembling complex… stuff.” How does Sepia do this?

“Perhaps you could show me?” Soarin asked, “If that’s okay.”

“Yes, well, I’m not that great of a teacher.” Colgate scratched her head, “Sepia, however, could prattle your ear off just over how to properly measure out sand.” This is true, as she had learned first hoof the day she started at Sepia’s.

“Well then, I’ll just have to ask him, won’t I?” Soarin said, “If I didn’t offend him too much.”

Colgate nodded her head. “I’m sure he’d love to have you watch,” she said, “He’ll latch onto anyone interested in how he does his job. He pretends to be gruff and world-weary, but it’s just an act.”

Soarin dramatically waved a hoof and declared, “Well then, lead the way, Colgate.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Sepia! I’m back, and I’ve got a friend!” Colgate announced as the two entered the workshop.

“Oh yes, lovely.” Sepia was building various toys from the scrap pile, cello music playing softly in the background. “When I took over this business from my father, my one hope was to create Ponyville’s greatest social spot.” He gave Colgate a look, “Dreams really do come true.”

“Good to see you again, Sepia!” Soarin greeted, ignoring the sarcasm.

The clockmaker paused. “Hello again, Mr. Hazard,” he said at last, glancing around the shop, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m just curious about the exciting life of clock-crafting,” said the pegasus.

Sepia gave the pegasus a weary look, “Really now…”

“Oh yes, it seems interesting.” Soarin flashed his reassuring smile again.

“You’ve crashed into too many clouds, haven’t you…?”

“Irrelative!” Soarin said, “And I was medically cleared after each crash.”

“Well, I’m just making toys at the moment,” Sepia said.

Soarin walked over to the work bench. “May I give it a try?”

“Sure,” Sepia said, his tone turning positive, “It’s simple. First you take an axel, insert it into a wheel, put a cog somewhere along the way, and then you place a wheel at the end.”

Sepia guided the stunt flyer through how to make the machine, helping hold the pieces in place here and there, until the small key-powered engine was completed. Sepia let Soarin shape the tin outer casing, making what Soarin claimed was a mouse, but looked to Sepia to be lump of tin on wheels. “Who’s a cute little robot mousey?” Soarin asked, placing it in the now-empty pie tin, “I shall name you Mr. Squeaky.” Soarin looked at Sepia, “So, what do I owe you for the lesson and toy?”

“Nothing,” Sepia said, sorting out pieces for the next one, “I just appreciate the interest.”

“Oh, it’s not right for me to learn your trade secrets and give you nothing back,” Soarin said, “It’s only right if I taught you something in return.”

“The moment I build clockwork wings, I’ll be sure to take you up on that,” Sepia replied with a slight chuckle.

Soarin blinked, “That’s… not actually something you actually do, is it?”

Sepia couldn’t help but give a moment of consideration to the image: him up in the sky, canvas and clockwork wings granting the earth pony flight. Ponies would certainly have stories then. However, it would certainly take a lot of winding, and even then, it would be hard to get the proper amount of lift to counteract the weight of the clockmaker. “It’s… not something I currently intend to pursue, no…”

“Well, I’ve got to do something.” Soarin said, stamping his hoof.

Colgate, minding the shop this whole time, trotted in. “Could you get us tickets to the next Grand Galloping Gala?” she suggested, eyes agleam, “We’ve always wanted to go.”

Soarin arched an eyebrow. “You sure? It’s actually a very dry event. The only notable thing to ever happen was the unforeseen chaos last time, and that’s seriously a once in a lifetime thing.”

“I just want to be able to say I’ve been,” Colgate said with a shrug, “He just wants to meet his cello-playing crush.”

“I am merely a fan,” Sepia said sharply, giving a glare in Colgate’s direction, “This is how awful rumors get started, you know.”

Soarin chuckled. “I’ll tell you what, not only will I get you two into the next gala, but I’ll introduce you to Octavia personally,” he said, “Fair warning, though: she’s not a huge Doctor Whoof fan.”

“What a coincidence, neither am I!” Sepia exclaimed, hardly holding back his excitement, “Soarin, you are rapidly becoming my best friend.”

“Aw, thank you,” Soarin replied, and then looked at a clock. “Hey, is that time right?”

“No, I’m afraid it’s running slow and needs a new spring.” Sepia stared at the clock for a moment, “I probably should repair it… and get back to the mayor…”

Colgate glared at her irresponsible boss, “Wasn’t that a couple weeks ago?”

“Maybe…” Sepia said, “but that’s beside the point.” She probably hasn’t noticed, honestly.

“Well, not to be rude, but I need to go,” Soarin said nervously, “I’m running a little late for a date so… thank you again, and I’ll see to your gala tickets when it next comes up.”

“That’s okay, we don’t want to inconvenience you,” Sepia said, “You honestly don’t owe me anything.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” Soarin said, “Thank you for the company, and Mr. Squeaky.”

Sepia and Colgate walked Soarin to the door, and he waved to them as he flew off towards Canterlot. Sepia and Colgate waved back as he left.

“What a pleasant guy,” Sepia said, cheerily, “More ponies should be like him.”

“I wonder who the date’s with?” Colgate asked no one in particular, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“Did you really have to pressure him into promising us gala tickets?” Sepia changed the subject, “Now I’m going to feel guilty the entire time and won’t be able to enjoy Octavia’s performance.”

“I didn’t pressure him into anything,” Colgate turned defensive, “I merely made a suggestion! He was the one who want to do something for us.”

“He didn’t need to. I liked the audience,” Sepia said.

“I know you do,” Colgate said with a sigh.

The two stood and watched Soarin fade into the distance.

“Well, I think we’ve left the mayor waiting long enough.” said Sepia, “You think you can replace the spring for me? Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“No problem,” Colgate replied, “I’ll do it in a minute.”

Sepia looked at his assistant. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” he said with a smile.

“Worry? I’m not worried about anything,” Colgate replied.

“Whoever he’s seeing tonight, he’ll probably be thinking about you the whole time,” Sepia said, rubbing Colgate’s head.

“You’re mocking me.”

“Yes. Yes I am,” Sepia said, “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

Colgate watched Sepia walk into the shop. “You big softy,” she muttered.

“I heard and resent that!” Sepia called back.

Colgate stuck her tongue out at Sepia, and then went back to cloud gazing. Something, however, seemed off. She squinted at the cloud line, and then turned her gaze downward towards the surrounding landscape. She finally figured out what was wrong.

“Sepia… its August, right?” Colgate called in.

Sepia considered the question, “Well, in my professional opinion as a timepiece maker I can say, yes, it’s August. Why?”

Colgate studied the landscape, “So… it’s summer, right?”

Sepia came back out to check on his young assistant, “Why do you ask?”

Colgate pointed, “It’s winter over there…”

Comments

[PaulRap Raptor]

Interesting.

[Levana]

Light? LIGHT? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! THE FRICKING MISCONCEPTIONS! A sonic rainboom is a sonic boom with a rainbow, and that is breaking Mach One. Not Warp One.

[FancyFan]

702144
Unless Equestria's magical field operates similarly to the Discworlds, i.e. it slows down light to a degree that its not actually much faster than sound.