• Published 11th Dec 2011
  • 1,133 Views, 18 Comments

Out of the Sky - ThatGirl2147



On a seemingly normal day in Ponyville, a mysterious mare falls out of the sky and disrupts the calm

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Part 12: Back In Time 2.1

“Hey, hey,” said a soothing male voice to a sleeping Emerald Comet. “Hey, wake up.”

Eventually, Emerald groggily opened her eyes, and the voice’s owner began to take form. He was a white Unicorn Stallion, with a dark brown mane and a long, braided beard that hung from his chin. His eyes were a very light gold, and he wore a black top hat. “Wh.. what? Where am I?” nervously asked the little filly, now frightened.

“You’re in the middle of Whitetail Wood,” answered the stallion honestly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” replied Emerald, standing up and lifting her baby dragon onto her back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Sir, I must get going.” She then began to walk off.

The stallion gave Emerald a concerned look. “Going? Where are you going?” questioned he, “I can give you a lift.”

Emerald stopped and turned to look at the stallion. He wore a gold-coloured vest over a high-collared black shirt and white cuff links. He also wore a white bowtie, and on his flank was a magic wand atop a 5-card hoof, specifically a Royal Flush of Clubs. “Who are you, anyway?” asked Emerald.

“Buckster’s the name,” announced the stallion, “Huckster Buckster: Traveling Magician, at your service.” He then looked somewhere and added, “now, about that lift?”

“What are you going to do?” mocked Emerald, “carry us?”

Buckster shook his head and said, “no. Follow me, and I’ll show you what I’ll do.” He then trotted around a few trees to the main road through the forest, with Emerald reluctantly following. On the road stood a mighty red carriage, decorated on the sides with stars and card suits. In large, black letters were “HB.”

“Impressive,” complimented Emerald, not looking really impressed.

“This isn’t even the best part,” boasted Buckster. He then knocked his hoof on the side of the carriage, and stepped clear as the entire side panel fell down, making an elevated stage, complete with a curtain in place of the carriage’s wall. Buckster then hopped onstage and took a deck of cards from apparently nowhere. His horn began to glow gold, and his cards glowed the same. The cards then flew out of his hoof, and flew about in the air, revolving once around Emerald Comet’s head. The cards then shot straight up and landed back in Buckster’s hoof. “That one’s called ‘52-card Pick Up,’” announced he, sounding rather proud of his own performance.

Emerald looked rather bored from the trick. “It was good,” said she blankly, “but you could work on the aerial manoeuvres with the cards, though; they seemed a bit simplistic, if I’m honest.”

“Well,” replied Buckster, “that was one of my least impressive tricks. The best ones’ll cost you.”

“I haven’t got anything with which to pay,” admitted the blue filly, “so I’ll take your word for it.”

“Daddy, who’s out there?” a small filly’s voice asked from within the carriage. The curtain soon opened to reveal the filly, a young Unicorn. She had magenta eyes and an azure coat with a long and extremely pale cyan mane. She wore a purple cape spackled with stars and fastened with a gem, and a similar wizard’s hat, but both were too big for her and almost engulfed her. “Are you performing without The Great and Powerful Trixie?” asked she, looking up to Buckster.

The boastful stallion smiled at the sight of the filly, and then said to her, “of course not, Sweetie. I was just about to get you.” He then looked to Emerald and continued, “and I’m not the only magician in this family.” Motioning to the filly on stage, he announced, “introducing the next in line to own this traveling business, my daughter, Trixie!” The filly cleared her throat, to which Buckster corrected himself. “Excuse me. I mean, The Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Trixie’s horn started to glow magenta as a series of fireworks began going off in mid-air. When the display was over, Trixie almost collapsed from exhaustion; so much magic use does a number on such a small filly. The fireworks also woke Emerald’s baby dragon, who began crying loudly.

Emerald began worrying, trying to comfort the crying dragon. She’d never heard Blades cry before, and had no idea what to do. Suddenly, another voice was heard from Buckster’s carriage. “What’s going on?!” asked the voice, belonging to a yellow Pegasus Filly with cyan eyes, a curly orange mane and tail, and two red double-quavers wrapped in a purple ribbon decorating her flank. She looked at Blades and sprung into action. She began to sing a soft, melodic song called, “Come Sail Away.” The song soothed the dragon, who then began to laugh. He then looked to the singing filly, and made a grab at her fluffy mane. The filly ceased to sing and moved her head back, remarking, “whoa; I don’t need a haircut, Little Guy.”

“That was brilliant,” said Emerald, in awe at both the song and what the song did. “I mean that was absolutely brilliant. How did you do that?”

“What, that?” humbly inquired the pegasus filly, “it’s nothing; just a song I really like.”

“What was that?!” barked Buckster, his soothing demeanour gone completely. “That was the worst thing I’d ever seen! How could you possibly enjoy that garbage as opposed to our stunning performances?!”

Emerald simply looked to the stallion and responded, “because she helped to solve a problem which you pair caused.”

Buckster let out a scream of frustration, and then shouted to the two fillies, “ah, just forget it. We’re out of here! And don’t think I’ll be giving either of you a lift anywhere!”

“What?!” questioned the pegasus. “You can’t leave me here, I work for you!” She then stomped her forehoof on the ground.

In response, Buckster produced a bag of bits from his hat and violently tossed it at the filly, hitting her in the nose and causing her to stumble. “That’s your final pay. We’re out of here!” He then slammed the folding stage back into the side of the carriage, led Trixie into the carriage, hooked himself up to it, and pulled it off.

*************************************************************************************************

“So, you knew Trixie, too?” Twilight Sparkle seemed a bit lost at the thought.

“Not really,” replied Tech Specs, "but I've encountered her that once. Why?”

After a few seconds of thought, Twilight responded with, “let’s just say we’ve crossed paths before; it wasn’t pleasant.” Tech nodded at the brief explanation.

“Whoah!” exclaimed Pinkie Pie, who was looking to the clock on the wall. “We’ve been talking for a long time.”

“How long?” asked Twilight, looking to the clock as well, and jumping when she saw it. “Really?” asked she, more to herself than anypony else, “an hour?”

“My word!” Rarity chimed in on the discussion, “the train to Canterlot leaves in ten minutes!”

“Well then,” announced Applejack, “we’ll just have to haul flank to get there in time.” And “haul flank” the group did, wasting no time in trotting at full speed toward the Ponyville Train Station.

After what seemed to be an hour of sprinting at full gallop, the ponies managed to get to the train station in the nick of time. They boarded the train, all breathing heavily except Applejack, who was used to such strain.

The inside of the train car was rather plain: a few upholstered seats with wooden tables between them, and only a couple other ponies on the car. They sat down around two tables, for one table only had enough for four occupants around it. Then, everypony looked to Tech Specs. “You were saying?” inquired Twilight between breaths, as if nothing happened.

“What’s that?” asked the blue unicorn in return. “Oh, yes, right.”

*************************************************************************************************


“What a bloody jerk,” remarked Emerald. She then attended to the other filly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” replied the filly, who, upon closer inspection, was bleeding from her nose. She wiped a bit of blood with her hoof and slung it off into the dirt. She then picked up the bag from the ground and opened it, revealing fifty bits. “Yeah,” remarked she, “that felt like about fifty.”

Emerald, a bit confused, asked the pegasus, “what do you mean, ‘felt like about fifty?’ Has this happened before?”

The filly simply answered, “being fired, no. But he has thrown my pay at me before.”

“That’s terrible!” exclaimed a shocked Emerald Comet.

“Eh, you get used to it,” said the yellow filly rather nonchalantly. “It looks like you’ve got some experience with it too, eh?”

“Yeah,” replied Emerald, thinking about what had happened the previous day, “you can say that.”

The filly saw something in Emerald Comet’s eyes. “Oh,” said she in realisation, knowing exactly what that thing in her eyes was. “I’m so sorry,” apologised she, hugging the blue filly. “It’s okay," added she before faltering. “Ummm...”

“Oh, right,” said Emerald to the air, wiping a few tears from her eyes. “How rude of me! My name is Emerald Comet.”

“I’m Bass Beat.” She then shook Emerald’s hoof heartily. “So, what now?” asked she, half-jokingly. “We’ve got fifty bits to our names and a baby dragon to take care of.”

“We?” questioned Emerald. “It’s your money, not mine. And I’ve got the dragon, not you.”

“Yes, ‘we,’” replied Bass in a very matter-of-fact tone, “I’ve got money, and you need money; I can’t just walk away from somepony who’s CLEARLY in need.”

Emerald, unphased, merely declined. “Thanks, but no thanks,” said she, “I can take care of myself, and Blades, too.”

Bass scratched her mane with her hoof before saying with frustration, “fine. if not for you, and not for Blade, or whatever his name is, then do it for me.” Emerald raised an eyebrow at the yellow filly, and she continued, “how could I sleep at night, knowing I left a homeless filly with a dragon to care for to fend for themselves, when I could, and should, lend a hoof to help them?”

“There’s no convincing you otherwise, is there?” Bass Beat shook her head at Emerald’s question. “Right, then,” agreed she reluctantly, “lead the way, Bass Beat.”

Bass laughed heartily, remarking, “you can change the lyrics,” before Emerald interrupted.

“But the song remains the same,” said she, finishing Bass Beat’s thought.

“Yes!” exclaimed the yellow pegasus, bumping her hoof with that of Emerald Comet. “Well, what cities are nearby?”

“I saw a small town that way,” answered the blue filly, pointing a hoof in a general Westerly direction.

Upon exiting the forest, Emerald pointed more precisely toward the town in the distance. “Nah,” declined Bass, “that’s Ponyville; too small a town for my taste. Wait, that means this is Whitetail Wood.” She then jumped with joy, pointing further up the road. “We could go to Canterlot; we could make it big there.”

“No,” replied Emerald flatly. Bass was about to open her mouth when she repeated, “no; we’re not going to Canterlot.”

Bass shrugged and said, “whatever.” She then turned to the East and said, “that just leaves Fillydelphia, that way.” she pointed down the road, and informed, “it’s a pretty big city; lots of job opportunities and places to go.” Emerald nodded, to which Bass beamed, “great! Let’s agitate the dirt!” Emerald gave Bass another look of confusion, to which she explained, “that means, ‘let’s go.’” Emerald nodded in realisation, and the pair trotted off.

*************************************************************************************************

“Wait, wait,” said an impatient Rainbow Dash, “so when exactly do you meet Uhrwerk?”

Twilight Sparkle nodded, adding, “yeah. I hate to ask you to speed up, but we did ask about Uhrwerk, not Bass Beat.”

“I was just getting to Uhrwerk,” replied Tech Specs, “it’s just that Bass Beat is rather big in how I met him, and why my name’s Tech Specs now instead of Emerald Comet. Now, if I may continue.” Twilight put on a look of shame at what she said as Tech continued the story.

*************************************************************************************************

When Bass Beat, Emerald Comet, and Blades arrived in the bustling city of Fillydelphia, nopony really payed any mind to them; lots of foals in the city were either homeless and/or looking for a job. Over the course of a couple days, Bass Beat had explained a few things about herself to Emerald: first, she lived in Fillydelphia when she was very young, and ran away because her parents and siblings were very abusive, in at least one instance almost beating Bass to death. When she left, she had taken a job as a roadie for hire, that being the reason she knew the geography of Equestria so well. She had been a roadie for Megadeth when they weren’t very well known; while working for them, their drummer had taught Bass how to play, earning her her Cutie Mark. Her last employer was Huckster Buckster, who payed well, but wasn’t the nicest pony to work for, losing his temper when somepony upstaged him or his daughter, and sometimes when somepony just disagreed with him.

Emerald, on the other hoof, didn’t say much about her past, except that she and blades had run away from Canterlot for “various reasons.”

After a couple days, Bass and Emerald had spent most of their money to feed themselves and Blades. Though, Bass Beat had purchased a cheap guitar and taught Emerald how to play, and they tried to earn money as street performers, to no avail. Eventually, though, they came across somepony willing to hire them.

“Hello, Little Fillies,” an aged Earth Stallion greeted Bass and Emerald, a Germane accent clear in his soft, old voice. He had a light, faded brown coat, his mane was grey and tied back with a gold band, with a matching tail, and his eyes were a deep aqua colour. He was wearing a casual-looking suit, with a dark green high-collar cape, Black boots on his rear legs, tan trousers, a green vest, and a grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A shiny platinum watch chain dangled from his vest pocket.

“Good Day, Sir,” greeted Bass happily in return, “would you like to hear a song? Only two bits.”

The stallion shook his head. “Nein,” replied he, “I will not beat around the bush with you; I have a school on the other side of town and it needs janitorial workers; I can not pay much in the way of bits, but I can offer you a place to stay and three square meals a day. Are you pair interested?”

“Oh, are we!” beamed Bass at the offer. She then looked to Emerald and her dragon, the latter of which was asleep on a cardboard box. “Wait,” added the yellow filly, “does that include my friend’s baby dragon?”

“Why, of course,” answered the stallion, as though the answer was obvious. “Why wouldn’t I feed him, as well?”

“Good point,” admitted Bass. “Oh, well. When can we start?”

The stallion thought for a second before responding. “I can take you to my home and give you some hot food today, and then you can start tomorrow, if you like.”

Bass and Emerald looked at each other, and Bass beamed, “that’d be great, Mister!”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said the stallion, knocking his forehead with his hoof once, “I never properly introduced myself. My name is Uhrwerk.” The two fillies introduced themselves to Uhrwerk, telling him the dragon’s name as well. “It is a pleasure to meet the both of you. Now, if we might be off, then?”

The stallion led the fillies through the centre of the city, almost to the Eastern suburbs, to a large gated yard in front of a large house. He produced a key from his vest pocket and unlocked the gate, motioning for the fillies to enter as he opened it. The house was large, but rather plain-looking from the outside: a basic brick and wood construction with a large chimney on either side of the house.

“Wow,” admired Bass at the massive building, “if this is just your house, then your school must be huge!”

“My home and school are one and the same, Miss Beat,” informed Uhrwerk. Both fillies asked why, and he explained, “my colleagues and I all reside here, and we teach young ponies the art and trade of clock and watchmaking.”

Emerald’s ears perked at the mention of watchmaking. “Sir, did you say ‘clockmaking?’” asked she, silent until that point.

“Oh, you speak,” remarked the stallion, who was joking, but maintained a serious expression and tone. “I thought you were a mute or something. But no, I didn’t say ‘clockmaking;’ I said ‘clock and watchmaking,’ but clockmaking is understood. Why?”

Emerald laughed half-heartedly at the dry joke. “Umm, yeah. Anyway, what would somepony have to do to hypothetically get into your school?”

“Nothing too difficult,” replied Uhrwerk. “Unless, of course, one is not ready for it.”

“Well, what is ‘it?’”

“A small test of one’s capability and potential as a clockmaker,” explained Uhrwerk, “If they pass, they are accepted; if not, then better luck next time.” He then looked to Emerald, as if he knew what she was going to ask next, and said, “if you like, I will allow you to take the entrance exam.”