Clockwise

We'll see how long it lasts! (; Unrelated to all the things, I noticed among our racers we have exactly one Apple member for each type of pony, so I ended up doodling them all together for funsies. That really is a far-reaching family!

If there was one thing that pleased Clockwise more than anything else, it was the fact that his hooves were now on solid ground, and reasonably guaranteed to stay in conditions so favorable for the rest of the race. For a pony who spent much of his dear time in Canterlot, with its tall towers and sweeping view of the rolling land stretching away so far below the mountainside, he was not especially fond of heights (his own considerable one aside), and there had been a quite few during this race. The flight over the ravine had, fortunately, gone without any unfortunate occurrences. Better yet, he seemed to have obtained a small collection of acquaintances, whose presence he gradually became accustomed to. Kindly ponies, all of them, with good, strong hearts and fine intentions, all things that the older pony could both spot and appreciate with utmost sincerity. Even so, Clockwise was content to simply enjoy their company and the fact that they did not seem to mind his, listening quietly to their conversations and their comments over the rumbling hooves, and making no contribution but his constant little jingle, a soft reminder that he was still there. Like some of them, the thin unicorn had slowed to a trot, only engaging in the gallop for short stints to coax the last of the leaves from the trembling trees that had only nearly been cleared by the others before him. The quiet companionship had done much to ease his frustration with the race and its slew of mishaps, encouraging him to remember what the purpose of it was in the first place. Clockwise's ears perked and swiveled at the sound of Sugar Apple's shout, and as his eyes turned to follow, he caught sight of a not-so-new pony coming into the pack from the woods. How curious! What had she been doing out here so early? Perhaps he might have learned, if he had thought to ask.

Clockwise was glad to relinquish his materials to the actually qualified medic pony, as the results he would have ended up with were somewhat dubious, at best, never mind the extent of his good intentions. He was a professor, after all, and that doctorate isn't quite the same. All that mattered there, anyway, was that Rising Star and Sugar Apple were alright, and the plucky pegasus, at least, did seem to have come out of her mishap with her spirit in tact, even if her wing had seen some damage. That damage would heal, and the purple mare would have an excellent story to tell in future times. Mister Earth Writer would, too, of course. The unicorn's eyes wandered back towards the precarious pathway, and he had been contemplating it with a frown when Sugar Apple addressed him. It took him a few moments to ascertain the fact that she had offered an apology, and to that he found surprise. He began to stutter something at her--'It is no matter', he had wanted to say--but he didn't manage much of it. In an apology of his own, he silenced himself to save the embarrassment and instead gave her a gentle, sheepish smile. At that point, Clockwise would have liked to leave, perhaps, as being around so many ponies in a situation like this and after such a long day was doing a bit of a number on his mental state, but he simply couldn't bring himself to. He didn't think to wonder why. Thus, at Earth Writer's command, he followed along with the rest of them, though perhaps not as easily. He didn't manage much more than a trot, himself, and even then the gait was lazy and labored, for every hooffall resulted in an aching shot through his knees, mocked by the dainty jingle of his bell. The lagging wizard pony rather quickly fell to the back of the pack, where he was content to stay, especially after getting a glimpse of that dreadful bridge. As if the one at the brook hadn't been bad enough. Mister Clockwise had had quite enough of bridges for today, thank you, especially those of the variety that didn't lend themselves terribly well to confidence. He expressed his apprehensive displeasure with a chuff and a swish of his tail, which had dried into a frizzy red mess and attracted all sorts of debris, like burs, pebbles and small animals. The presence of at least one of those things was, admittedly, debatable.

Oh, man, maybe I was too optimistic! I keep missing out on the huge chunks of the roleplay when I'm in class. I can just feel those penalty points racking up like nobody's business.

Clockwise took a bit of time (three minutes and thirty nine seconds, exactly) to backtrack far enough to be of any use to the rescue operation, but by then was able to lend his own magic to the efforts of the others in moving the rocks. Already quite exhausted from his previous adventures, the unicorn hadn't been quite as effective at the job as he may have liked, but some help was surely better than none. By the time Sugar Apple had been lifted through the air and placed onto the path, Clockwise had quietly settled himself into a lay to rest his aching legs, his sides heaving gently from the effort that had gone into his magic. He didn't say anything, of course--speaking, for him, was often more trouble than it was worth, and the others seemed to have the situation and all necessary, related talking quite under control! His expression said far more than his stammers could have, anyway, and in a much shorter period of time; relief was clear on his face, but it was still mingled with some anticipation. They still had another pony to rescue, after all, though the able pegasus would likely have that well in hoof--Hoss Skybright, rescuepony extraordinaire! As he watched the group speak and congratulate each other--offering an appreciative nod to Earth Writer when his own meager contributions were acknowledged--a thought seemed to suddenly occur to him, and the pony interrupted his rest to climb shakily back to his hooves, frowning in concern. "Ex--e-excuse me," he uttered at last. His horn sputtered into a glow, and he stepped towards the injured pegasus. "I-I do apologize, I'm--not, er... n-not..." 'A healer', he had meant to say, but the words wouldn't come. He felt himself grow anxious in the midst of his stall before he finally managed, "--I-I mean, I--w-we can make you a... something of a-a splint. With, er, these." The blanket he had been given at the brook floated off of his back, now mostly dry, and he turned his head to locate a suitable stick, long and straight. He had to briefly drop the blanket to muster the strength to float it over to the motley group, but eventually both of the items were hovering in front of them. "If I-I may, miss... oh, dear--Miss Sugar Apple, was it?"

Magic is a pretty complicated thing, and there's lots of ways to spin it. I do think the willpower of a unicorn is able to affect their magic, but not necessarily what the spell actually does. A strong-willed unicorn may be able to draw on magical power even in situations where other unicorns may have already given up or been pushed far past their breaking point, and may be able to coax more intense effects out of their spells, but spells themselves have been shown over and over again as things that need to be learned and practiced. A lot of magic, when you think about it, is the simple mimicking of things that can already happen naturally, though often pushed to an extreme--moving things, changing things, and so forth. For a spell to work, I suspect that a unicorn must familiarize themselves intensely with how these things might normally occur, and then substitute magic for the forces involved. Since, say, moving an object is relatively simple and primarily requires energy, it is a common and easy spell. Something like turning one thing into another thing, however, is more complicated, because based on how different the two objects are, the magic has to do more work to make one like the other on a fundamental level, and must supply the energies necessary to make the change happen. All of this stuff has probably been condensed into some kind of magic-math--or runes and sigils, if you prefer!--that explain the mechanics in common terms, and these are what must be studied and memorized. They're likely also incomprehensible to someone who doesn't know how to read that kind of thing (like calculus ), unless the spell is one that is simple enough to be described in usual English (or whatever ponies speak) instruction. How good you are at reading and understanding this, though, has no bearing on your natural magical talent, and a very learned unicorn may yet struggle with powerful spells simply because of a deficiency of magic, even if they understand how the thing works. Twilight is such a powerful spellcaster because she's both very smart and very naturally skilled. It could be that a unicorn's natural magical 'stores', so to speak, can be expanded with practice, but given the nature of the show and the world, I suspect that other things play a role, too, such as the character's virtues. Friendship is magic, after all! The introduction of 'dark magic' also seems to suggest that usual magic is inherently good, and so probably tied to positive attributes. I will note, of course, that this is entirely theory, but I like to consider it a relatively sound one.

The tattered echoes of more voices began to sound towards Clockwise, though he couldn't pinpoint the direction. The thickening fog dampened his senses. He whipped his head this way and that, his slow, frightened hooffalls growing less measured and more jumpy. What was that? Where was it coming from? No, wait--there was urgency in those strange cries, though the wind had distorted them. The unicorn carefully approached the edge of the twisting, treacherous path, willing himself not to startle into a fall should anything unexpected occur, and surveyed the ledges that curled and swerved downwards. There, again! He heard words, that time, tossed carelessly on a breeze: "[colour=#800080]...ANYPONY HELP ME! AH’M TRAP[/colour][colour=#800080]PE[/colour][colour=#800080]D DOWN HYAR![/colour]" ".[colour=#0000ff]..the cliff wall![/colour][colour=#0000ff] Hurry! Anypony out there!?[/colour]" Those were ponies, and they had met trouble more substantial than the flitting shadows and sudden cracks that had been providing fodder for paranoia to Clockwise's mind. He couldn't stand idly by! What if he was the only one that had heard them? Suddenly panicking for entirely different reasons, the stallion hopped back and forth on his forehooves in worry before gathering his addled senses and weakly trotting back in the direction he had come from. The harsh angles of the path where it grew steep had left a dull, throbbing ache in his knees and sore hooves, and going downwards made him feel it more acutely, reducing him quickly to more of a hobble. Blurry colours suddenly grew visible through the thinning grey veil, and they didn't belong to trees. Even with his glasses, though, Clockwise's vision was not the best, and he couldn't decipher their circumstances. He could make out only that there were four of them, two on the far side of the winding path, and two that seemed to be below. "He--h-hello?!" the unicorn whinnied breathlessly across the gap. The echo mocked his stutter. "Hello? C-can you--can you h-hear me?! I-I'm--I'm coming!"

I'm so glad that the Rearing Ravine was this week and not finals week! The push to RP more must mean that there will be an exponential increase in shenanigans. I anticipate copious amounts of excellence, possibly with lots of NOOOOO moments.

Clockwise, unfortunately, was one pony that had entered the Running on a whim, and the treachery of the Rearing Ravine was all but unknown to him until he realized that the path was rising and losing its width. Had he taken a wrong turn? Surely the race didn't go through here? Though he hardly took notice of it (and would have been most surprised, if he had), Clockwise was somewhere at the front of the stream of racers, and so had very little to go off of, and nopony close enough to follow in the absent-minded way he employed in hallways and on streets. Slowing substantially in acknowledgement of the uncertain possibility of having to turn around, the stallion chuffed quietly with a flick of his matted tail. His ears twisted towards every subtle sound that was there to hear, funneling noises that caused him to jump, which they did only because they were noises at all. It was lonely here, soft and silent but for the whistle of breezes through the leaves. In nervousness, his eyed roved the frightfully sheer rock faces that tumbled down from the edges of the meandering path like hard, cracked curtains, and then anxiously combed the trees to shed the gathering shapes from the shadows. Wait a minute--leaves? Of course! There were, indeed, still leaves on these branches, and surely they had to be knocked off as certainly as those on the oaks and elms in the gentler folds of the Heartland's rolling hills. Perhaps the race went through here after all. Well, there was a conclusion to the question at hoof, but it wasn't a very encouraging one. It was fortune and blessing that he had gotten so far and overcame so many odds; how long would this unusual bout of luck last? Perhaps only a trot... besides, there would surely be some excellent views. Encouraged by this meager thought, the unicorn started again with some trepidation, only to stop dead once more with his ears perked straight up at the sound of an echo carried towards him on a breeze. It sounded much like a voice. In that moment, every old fairy tale flooded immediately to Clockwise's mind, and he reared briefly before dashing forward onto the narrow path in a spray of pebbles, clattering down the steep ribs of the rock with a sound like chattering teeth, as though the removal of the cloak of leaves had given the earth a shiver.

"Oh, I-I-I beg your pardon! Ter--er--t-t-terribly, uh, terribly sorry!" the tall unicorn sputtered at Sugar Apple as he hastily backed away following the minor collision, straightening his glasses on his nose with a small spot of magic. Filled with the urge to bolt off again, perhaps to avoid his embarrassment, Clockwise nonetheless stayed painfully still and allowed Earth Writer to introduce him to the purple pegasus, a little too rattled--and Clockwise was very easily made so--by the minor mishap to do anything of the sort for himself. He didn't say a single word the whole way through, only standing and smiling awkwardly, carefully avoiding eye contact. What silly foalishness, especially from a stallion his age! The reporter pony could make of that what he wished; the eccentric unicorn didn't exactly have the sort of logic that was simple to follow. When Sugar Apple took off again, Clockwise hopped his front hooves briefly as though startled by a realization and called after her, "Er, uh--g-good--good luck!" Perhaps he'd better get going, too. "I, ah... w-well, er, I-I suppose I will, uh, s-see you at the linish fine--f-fin--finish line, sir--sirs," he said to Earth Writer, correcting the last word to include Greenshot. He dipped his head to them briefly, mysteriously wobbly-kneed, and then abruptly shot off down the path again with more little jingles.

[colour=#8B4513]"Oy, glad to see you're doing alright after that little spill, Mr...?[/colour][colour=#282828]" [/colour] "Oh!" The sudden voice surprised Clockwise into performing a small, startled jump between the measured steps of his trot, though the sound of the other unicorn's hooves ought to have prepared him for the possibility. His ears quickly went from flattened to perked, and he turned his head to look at the other pony with something bordering on astonishment, as though amazed to have been asked his name. "I, er--uh--C-Clockwise, sir, I-I think," he supplied, leaving off his credentials... a good move, perhaps, though the dusky stallion would be too absent-minded to note it as such, and certainly hadn't made the omission consciously. "Uh, I mean, I'm--I-I'm quite sure!" To Earth Writer's second inquiry, the lanky stallion's expression became a baffled one. "Oh," he said again, "Well, well... w-with all due respect, why sh-should you ever want to, er, do such a thing? I-I mean, um, do... do ponies... like to read about--a-about other ponies falling into... i-into rivers?" The question was clearly a genuine, honest one, if quite naïve. To be expected, maybe! If Clockwise's unusual manner was anything to go by, perhaps the lines along which he thought were a tad eccentric, too. Regardless, it would appear that the awkward, stuttering unicorn wasn't terribly good at doing two things at the same time, or, at least, not these particular two things, these being talking and running--two activities that he didn't do very often, and hardly ever together. So engrossed was he in the impromptu conversation that he quite forgot to pay attention to what was in front of his nose rather than in front of his mind, and a rather key bit of awareness grew a tad tardy as a result. WHUMP. Fortunately for Sugar Apple, Clockwise was hardly what one could call substantial, even by the relatively low standards of unicorns. Unfortunately for her, whatever she was trying to steal a peek at probably would have run off at the clumsy pony's less-than-graceful arrival.

Hmm, those are some very good points! Naturally, no complicated structure would manifest itself in the guild's early days simply because it would be unnecessary from the perspective of the few starting characters, I'm sure. However, if the guild does become popular, some variety of order would be nice to have to encourage some kind of overarching dynamic between a large cast, and considering it OOC in advance isn't necessarily a bad thing. It could simply be too early to tell, of course, but I do enjoy speculation. I am quite fond of the potential that would arrive from the group being tight-knit and every member being reasonably unique, perhaps each being a go-to pony for a specific thing. I'm not sure how well that would work if the guild were to get very large, but I am probably getting ahead of myself. Regardless, it's up to the characters in the end, and I don't think there's any way to tell what they'll do!

Despite his rather unpleasant adventure at the Brook and the little scare he'd had on his way away from it, Clockwise's spirit began to recover as his steady trot finally brought him out of the storm. Still wet but not as much as he might have been if it weren't for his waterproofed blanket, he paused to shake himself, nearly losing his sopping hat with the vigor of the action. Though far from dry, his tangled, curly red mane and tail had already begun to frizz. Unbeknownst to Clockwise, his startled gallop had driven him up the ranks considerably, and so he found himself almost alone. Breathing a little harder than he might have liked, the lanky pony took a few extra moments to gingerly relax his aching knees and rest a muddy hind hoof; he even shut his eyes, enjoying the gentle warmth of the sunbeams in the wake of the cold brook and cruel rain. However, they soon opened again in surprise at the feeling of subtle contact. The stallion's limp ears slowly perked, just as his brows lifted, and he blinked cross-eyed at the pale butterfly that had landed on his nose. A butterfly, indeed? Awareness began to trickle in, and Clockwise turned his attention to what lay behind the delicate little thing that had mistaken him for a flower. And, why, it was beautiful! The storm that grumbled in the distance behind him, the terror of the rushing brook and even the nasty griffon were all but forgotten as Clockwise surveyed the inviting clearing that sprawled ahead, verdant and lush despite the season. It reminded him fondly of dear, green Fet Loch, from the brilliant sky to the trail that ran through it. As though sensing a rising desire, or perhaps having finally ascertained that the purple unicorn wasn't just a really big flower after all, the butterfly flitted away, and Clockwise picked up his trot again with fresh, sprightly vigor. The earth here was much more forgiving to an old stallion's hooves, soft and hollow-sounding rather than slick, mucky and treacherous. The trot quickly graduated into a canter, and the unkempt professor even emitted a short, shrill little whinny of a laugh as the bell on his hat began to ring again with each coltish step. This was what he had come to Ponyville for!

Bellosh raises some excellent points. I definitely agree that we should refrain from trying to divide the guild up based on any kind offensive magic, and certainly not into schools that are so strictly focused on restrictive spell definitions. That kind of division revolves more around theory than practicality, which would be a great idea for a group of ponies who were strict scholars, but not so much if the organization is intended to be a little less rigid. For what it's worth, I personally think the guild would function at its best if it was treated like an actual guild--a group of individuals with similar skills who've come together to support each other, organize and cultivate their trade (through finding and training apprentices, etc.) and, most importantly, provide services to ponies who would want them, as mentioned above. I earnestly think that a Council would be the best for handling something like that, since magic is an incredibly broad field that undoubtedly covers a formidable spectrum of vastly different specializations. A Guild Master would be ideal to keep things ordered overall, but each field would probably still need an experienced director to ensure that everything works smoothly at a finer level. That said, it might yet be best to leave the departments pretty open-ended until we work out what would be in demand and what ponies we have who can fulfill that demand! I do really like the ideas of healing, enchantment and 'scholar' (there's probably a better name for that, haha) branches, but there's definitely room for more, like one featuring magical artifacts, or one focused around the magic associated with the seasons, plants, animals and so forth. Earth ponies and pegasi were canonically mentioned to have magic of their own, and if we are to include them, I think it's only fair to have a branch of the guild dedicated entirely to their magical talents, as well! (They'd be in other branches, too, of course.) Whew, that was a lot of blathering. This is really exciting, though. I can't wait to see something like this become reality! If we do go with the branches idea, Clockwise would be excellent at handling copious amounts of spellbooks. Alternately, if we have some really obscure branch that focuses on abstract magical theory, he'd be right at home there, too. :B

That is an awesome insignia! It does a fantastic job of conveying a sense of arcane mystery without being complicated. I love it.

Hahaha, that would be fun! I don't know that Clockwise would accept, but it would be a great reason to have him show up. He's very fond of his students, and wouldn't want to disappoint. Depending on how things turn out, of course, it's possible that he could feel obligated, in which case he'd try it and possibly be hilariously bad at it. Then again, though, since he's very passionate about magic at heart, he might surprise himself. I actually don't know for certain how such an arrangement would go. [/colour]I think the concept of the Guild Master being a non-unicorn is actually quite an interesting one. I don't suppose that you can get much more neutral than that, after all, and, considering the way the guild might be perceived from an OOC perspective, it would be a handy, automatic indication that it's open to any and all ponies. (Also, extra earth pony strength would make it easier to break up squabbly magicfights via hoof to face.) Simultaneously, though, I like the idea of an alchemy branch, which Abbot could be most fit to command. I think that was touched on a little before? Forgive me if I'm repeating a lot of things! In any case, I'm interested in seeing this pony in action. I really enjoy his concept.

That would be a very interesting hook, Tacobob! Perhaps through some sort of history class geared towards myth, relevant to Pocket Change's focus on Archaeology? Concerning the guild itself, I'm still a little unclear on the issue with the Guild Master. I don't think we have anyone who's volunteered a character yet, if I'm quite correct. Since this seems to be an issue, what if the guild were to be run by a sort of Guild Council, instead, with each member of the Council presiding over and responsible for some specific aspect of the guild's function? Major matters could be brought to a vote. If some sort of tie-breaker is really sorely required, maybe there's some kind of old artifact linked to the unicorns of history that can be consulted--a sentient book, perhaps! (Plus points if it has a witty sense of humor.) This would also open more positions, I think, and make it more flexible to add new sections to the guild--just find and appoint a pony who's proven themselves capable of being a competent Council member, fill out some paperwork, and it's good to go.

Oh, man, this is a great idea. It was exciting just to read this thread up to this point. :'D If you're still after ponies, I'd love very much to participate. My OC would be extremely interested in something like this! He even lives in Canterlot and is a professor at the university, and actually formally calls himself a wizard. He'd be great for picking up recruits and would undoubtedly be an extremely active member despite his other duties, since he is driven by a perpetual search to learn the fundamental nature of Time, something that he feels is tied intrinsically to magic. I need to bop off right now, but I'll ruminate a little and see if I can offer anything to the discussion. I really like the idea of posters so far--it seems like the easiest way to reach the most ponies.

[colour=#282828]The blanket was quite nice, but it was already getting wet in the downpour. Since he had stopped running anyway, Clockwise decided to spend the bit of concentration required to place his waterproofing spell on it, as well, and that was one of the first things he did. His horn's glow began fragile and weak, a testament to his state of mind, but it grew in strength with some struggling until it was bright and primed with enough magic to weave the spell. The unicorn noticeably slumped once he managed it, but relished the repellent dryness as the rain that had already soaked the blanket was coaxed out by the magic.[/colour] [colour=#282828]"Th-thank you, M-Mister Skybright, and-and you, a-as well," he breathed, audibly relieved. The hoofbump was weakly, perhaps awkwardly, reciprocated, but Clockwise was smiling shakily. "C-C--er--Clockw-w-wise, s-s-s-sir. Oh, I--I-I am truly in your debt, both--b-both of you!"[/colour] [colour=#282828]Of course, there was still a race to be run--a race that all three of them were probably swiftly losing. Clockwise felt an acute twinge of guilt alongside his overwhelming gratitude; these two kind souls had forgone quite a bit of time to save him, and Clockwise, of all ponies, certainly knew the value of time.[/colour] Wet-maned but now mostly immune to the rain, the purple pony watched as Hoss took off again to rejoin the race, and after a short bit of pondering, decided to take the pegasus' advice. Even so, he regarded the bridge with anxious disdain as he watched it swing so dangerously; would he risk it? It would be terrible if he fell in again, and Clockwise did not think he was beyond that possibility. Right now, though, he mostly just wanted to finish this stupid race and go back home to his nice, warm quarters at the Canterlot University. He spared a glance to the sky, and then nervously trotted towards the bridge, only for it to crack and break before the strength of the river, startling the poor pony backwards and nearly causing him to trip over himself. Thank goodness that the ponies that had been crossing it had made it, but... what now? The rope swing was regarded with wide eyes. He knew he wouldn't be able to achieve that. Well, then. Magic was technically against the rules, but Clockwise had just about had enough of this weather, and this race. With a shaky breath, the stallion tucked his head against his neck and squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mind to calm and summoning up his magic. Then, in a brilliant burst of gold, he vanished! ...And appeared again, on the far bank. Ears low with weariness, he turned to continue the run--and hopefully depart the shadow of this dreadful storm sometime soon--but found a curious roadblock shaped rather like one pony and a griffon. In fact, it was a pony and a griffon, each coated with a considerable amount of mud. He reared with a startled noise of shock, inadvertently splattering them with even more muck when his hooves came back down. Mister Skybright had already gone on ahead past them. Clockwise could hear his hooves and see his swishing tail receding into the grey cloak of the rain. Wait, wait, wait. Griffon. Griffon? THAT griffon. With a terrified shout (which could be loosely translated as "WAUGHAGH!"), Clockwise rather suddenly found all the energy he needed to run very fast, indeed, and tore around them and down the muddy path at a speed to envy, slipping and sliding in the mud but maintaining his extravagant momentum most admirably.

My formal apologies to the people who stopped to help my silly character for having taken so long to post! ('8>

Water! So much water! And, by Celestia, it was cold! Clockwise sputtered as he struggled to find the surface of the rushing river, never mind the fact that it was so difficult to tell which way was up and which was down; the torrential rain was almost as thick as the swollen brook, itself, and nearly as brutal. His horn began to glow gold, no doubt with the intention of saving himself with a spell, but an especially vicious wave crested over him, and the shine died almost as swiftly as it had sparked. Clockwise didn't have the energy to keep this up for long. He was not built for stamina in the first place, and he had already used so much of it getting this far. The unicorn had begun to despair, for the mighty water was so much stronger than he was, and quite intent, it would seem, on washing him away, silencing him with an unfeeling splash whenever he tried to yell. Somewhere in the tangled chaos of his fear and panic, his Timesense began to tick away towards the moment when he would finally run out of the strength to keep himself from being taken far off into the woods, and his heart turned as cold as the water. Then, cutting through the sound of the rainfall and the galloping hooves was a yelling voice, muffled by thunder--had someone seen him?! Yes! The rope did not at first register to him, seeming almost too good to be true, but there it was. Fortunately, Clockwise latched onto the rope with his teeth before his surprise doomed him with any more hesitation, and began to fight against the water towards the shore. Even with the power of the stream tugging him away, the unicorn was still quite light, and Ember Heart and Hoss were able to pull him in with relative ease, considering. Once he had gotten his forehooves onto the bank, their combined strength was enough to tug him a short distance up into the air before he landed unceremoniously on the ground, sopping wet. Like a nervous young colt, the dusky unicorn immediately wobbled up to his hooves with numb uncertainty, panting, and then shook himself--a primarily moot effort in the pouring rain. On the bright side, well, now there was no more mud on his coat. Despite all of that, the waterproofing enchantment on his glasses had remained intact--and his glasses themselves, as well, for that matter--and Clockwise lifted his head to regard his kind saviors, ears flat against his skull as he shivered. "I-I--oh--th-thank--thank--th-th-thank you," he managed through his miserable stutter, his voice as grateful as his wide, frightened eyes. Despite being shaken up and maybe a little on the cold side, at least he seemed to be mostly alright!

OOC: Clockwise is going for the bridge! Er.... kind of! --- As the roiling stormclouds began to spread across the sky above him (just on time, Clockwise noted absently) the purple pony began to pay much more attention to what he was doing with his hooves, something that was admittedly unusual for him. The price of an occasional trip or stumble was a fine one to pay in exchange for several extra hours of thoughtful contemplation, but this was different. A moment of distraction--indeed, another startled jump--could have results most unpleasant if he lost his footing now. "Looks like we'll be getting a little wet," indeed! Mud began to splotch the distraught professor's fetlocks and dusky coat as he went splashing over the path, his ears pinned back for some small respite from the lashing rain and the violent gales. His yellow hooves were now almost entirely caked in brown, and in the rain he looked as grey as his eyes. It was very difficult to see in this atrocious weather, and the unicorn's dependency on his glasses--now as wet and useless as a windshield under water--made it even harder. One, two, three, one, two, three. Each hoof-fall descended in a splattering of mud and rain. The pony's heart began to sink as he realized that he wasn't certain of where he was. All that guided him was what he thought was the path, framed by lines of trees. He slowly realized that they were wilder, fiercer trees, and bare of apples: forest trees. Sweet Apple Acres was somewhere behind them, now. Despite his commitment to trying to stay focused, Clockwise's mind nevertheless resorted to pondering over its great wealth of spells, and his horn began to shine gold. A gentle spark bounced up into the rain and arced to settle on his glasses. The short enchantment began working immediately; the water ran off as though repelled, and the new, fat droplets went splashing away from the lenses, deterred by the magical waterproofing. It certainly wasn't perfect, but it did wonders for visibility. Alas, he hadn't the energy or the focus to waterproof his poor, dear hat, which was now all but soaked. The occasional jingle of the little bell on its end sounded forlorn and distant amid the thunder of the rain and the rumbling of the sky. Now that he could actually see, Clockwise was able to attribute at least some of the sounds of roaring water to what looked like a fierce river up ahead. The Bubbling Brook, no doubt, though now it was neither bubbling nor much of a brook. How could the weatherponies have committed such a terrible miscalculation?! Coming to a slow, the stallion seriously considered turning around and going back. Of course, that would be dangerous. There would be no other ponies on the path in that direction. Some blurs by the branches suggested the presence of weather control pegasi, and--there! A bridge! Perhaps he would be able to make it through, after all! Clockwise trotted over to the collection of ponies there, craning his neck to try to see what he could of the conditions of the water nearby. It was then that a certain griffon came thundering towards them like a fierce bolt of lightning, herself; he could only tell that she was a griffon at all because of her size. The ponies around him scattered in response to her fierce yell--what had she said? He hadn't heard! And, oh, dear, she certainly wasn't slowing down! Jumpy Clockwise's legs all seemed to want to go in different directions in his great haste to move out of her way. The end result, of course, was that he didn't move at all! As though he were a leaf, in the face of Gilda's speed and strength, the much scrawnier unicorn was robbed of his balance and shunted with extraordinary ease off to the side, with the obvious pitfall being that there wasn't an awful lot of ground to catch him in that vicinity. Abruptly, perhaps even comically if the situation weren't so grim, he tipped right over the bank of the brook towards the rushing torrent. His shrill, shocked whinny ended with the splash.

Having hardly expected any of the racers to be of the chatty variety, the gangly purple stallion made a surprised noise (which sounded unusually close to a hiccup) when Lyra cheerily asked him a question from somewhere to his right. The intensity of his startle caused him to hop straight up into the air like a young goat, and his glasses jumped on his nose as he hit the ground again. He landed astonishingly well, without even losing step, and awkwardly managed to resume his canter with only a little bit of bumbling on the wet leaves amid a few scattered complaints from his strained knees. All things considered, this fortuitous bit of chance seemed to shock him as much as the voice had. Eyes as wide as dinner plates, his head swung around to face the pale-maned, gold-eyed young unicorn with such speed that his dampening hat turned itself crooked on his head with a quiet little jingle. "Oh!" gasped Clockwise. "I-I--er--y-yes! Uh, yes, pesagi! P-Peg--pegasi!" Almost as soon as he was done speaking, his ears pressed back against the brim in embarrassment. There were snatches of a gentle accent to be made out under that stumbling stutter, a lilting and rolling sort that would probably be quite pleasant to hear otherwise. Fet Loch, perhaps, though tempered out of its thickness by years spent elsewhere. Abashed, the stallion sheepishly directed his eyes back towards the ominous sky, and then to the activity of watching the leaves and rain fall around them. Even so, his ears were quick to perk upright again, flicking raindrops, in order to swivel towards his new company, a sure sign of his attention. "I beg y-your pardon, miss, um--er... S-s-sudden... sudden sounds, you know..."

Speeding along at a comfortable pace and afforded some extra distance by his long legs, Clockwise was astonished to find himself doing so well. He had never made a habit of running distances much longer than that between the two ends of the Canterlot University library, but this was liberating-- exhilarating, in fact! That was the word! The scruffy stallion's heart quickened with the thrill of his gallop and the pleasure taken from the brilliance of the leaves; the steady rumble of the runners' hooves and the shivering of the branches in their wake seemed to join the rhythm of his breath and the racing of his mind. His hoards of dusty spellbooks and scrolls, the trappings of a scholar, felt so far away. Here was another kind of magic, and one that, Clockwise mused, he simply did not spend enough of his dear time contemplating. For all of the wonder, though, Clockwise was still an aging pony, and certainly not very gifted in the way of physical fitness. His exuberant gallop soon became a yet-enthusiastic canter, which then gradually descended into a tired trot. However, Sweet Apple Acres was a beautiful place, and not even flagging energy and a greying sky could dampen spirits that were already so high, even as raindrops settled into the purple pony's tangled mane and speckled his slipping glasses. Content to be surrounded by the quaint farmland and happily oblivious to his place in the race, Clockwise slowed all the more, the better to catch his breath and appreciate the tall apple trees and their brilliant fruit. The apples presented a strong temptation to the scrawny pony, all ripe and red; surely the Apple family wouldn't miss one or two? Alas, he certainly hadn't the strength to buck, nor the courage to try it, and everypony knows that apples don't taste as good when they're removed by any other means. In any case, perhaps it was for the best that he refrained. What if they were really good, and he just sat there and kept eating them until the storm was upon him? That wouldn't do, not at all! The looming clouds attracted the unicorn's nervous eyes, and that was enough to cause him to pick up his pace a little, back up to a light canter. An estimate of when to expect the thick of it to overtake the course began to hammer itself out in a corner of the Timesense. Lengthening his stride a little more, Clockwise bobbled his head in pleasant acknowledgement to a few of the ponies at the juice stands when they caught his eye, or him theirs, and flashed them each his silly teeth in a goofy, nervous smile.

Developed, undeveloped, the thing that bugs me the most about King Sombra is his character design. Nightmare Moon and Queen Chrysalis did the black = evil thing so much better, without resorting to.... well.... black and red. Also, if he's just a unicorn, why on Equestria does he have fangs? It's like every single cliche evil trait was piled on to him, all the way down to glowing eyes, and a special horn. I just don't understand why they would design a villain like that when every single other character in the show, right down to the background ponies, displays visual harmony and only rarely resorts to painfully cliche colour choices. As a villain, he's okay, but his awful design makes it that much harder to take the episode seriously.