Midnight Danny 
A cutie! <3
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Description
The small mare trotted down the street of her beloved home town, with a smile on her face and a song in her heart. It was a dark and heavily overcast night, the city lit by gaslight rather than electric systems like more modernised cities. The sprawling metropolis of Manehattan sprang to mind, along with the friends she had made there.
Shaking her head at the amusing memories, and openly chuckling to herself, she continued on the path to her modest home in the industrial district. She had nothing to fear in Baltimare- one of the safest and quietest cities in all of Equestria, it was an old and storied place, with a history of heavy industry, and renowned for it’s engineers and mechanics.
It was no surprise that the Equestrian Railway Service had its main base here, complete with a locomotive factory, and repair yards. All making use of the colossal railhead they had constructed just outside the south-western corner of the city.
Though the majority of locomotives were still powered by steam, diesel-electric locomotives were just beginning to appear- being used almost exclusively for heavy freight runs.
Though the majority of locomotives were still powered by steam, diesel-electric locomotives were just beginning to appear- being used almost exclusively for heavy freight runs.
The majority of these were machines used by the humans- sourced from many of the nations on Earth. American ALCO and EMD units could be found running alongside British Class 37s, and German Eurorunners and more besides- all slightly modified to increase efficiency, and cut down on emissions and pollution- especially on the older machines.
Passenger services were almost exclusively steam powered, apart from those weird things the Crystal Empire built and called locomotives. Probably powered by magic-infused crystals or some such, Obsidian thought to herself.
Some of the older pony built steam locomotives had now been retired into museums, and onto heritage lines, the legendary Friendship Express being one of them- the locomotive and rolling stock now being in a museum in Ponyville itself, but maintained in running condition. Obsidian had never liked the aesthetic of that thing, if she was honest with herself, but she was well aware of the many records and achievements it had made over its very long career.
Being in the freight forwarding business, Obsidian Quill had made it her business to take on board the history of the railways and shipping lines of Equestria, and had become a respected name in her own right. Not a celebrity, but respected.
The dockyards to the east were no less impressive, being able to take the very largest vessels to date into the berths. Now that some of the human designed freighters were in service, journey times had been slashed, as had reliance on coal and sail powered ships, which were now mostly seen as quaint, but important historical relics.
Some of the more traditionally minded operators still used the more antiquated vessels, but even the Shipping firms that used the larger human container ships did not doubt their effectiveness or the sheer number of ships that they could operate at profitable levels, for the cost of a single one of the modern behemoths.
There was no undercutting of prices or “dirty tricks” campaigns against each other. Above anything else, these ponies were sailors- and nothing else mattered. They would help and respect each other as they always had for time immemorial. Just yesterday, one of the new human-built vessels had rescued a griffon steamer from certain doom in a storm, lashing the smaller vessel abeam of her, saving both her, and her incredibly grateful crew, and bringing them to the docks in the evening.
Just another example of the unspoken code of mariners, even on Earth, apparently.
Her smile never left her face for a moment. She was so proud of what her people had accomplished since the Alliance with Earth was ratified- many decades of progress in but a scant hoof-full of years since the treaty was signed and the portals opened.
Obsidian Quill rounded the corner, onto the street where her brick-built house was located, just in the buffer zone between the residential districts closer to the city itself, and the industrial area where she worked. Much of Baltimare was built of dark brown bricks, almost the exact colour of her coat, leading her to be able to almost hide in plain sight of passers by, and lending her a kind of pleasant anonymity as she trotted down the darkened street.
Before long, her non-descript semi detached house came into view, plain and functional, and very well maintained. Much like herself, she thought idly with a grin as she walked up the steps of her home.
Without wasting time, she unlocked and entered her property, lighting a candle, the scent of a clean but well lived-in home gracing her nostrils. “Home is where the heart is,” Obsidian intoned as she closed her eyes.
It was almost silent in her house, the gentle hum of her magitech central heating system being the only real sound here.
She stood in her living room for a few minutes, still with her eyes closed. Before long, and perfectly on schedule, the rain arrived.
Starting off gently, and gradually ramping up in intensity, the muffled drumming upon her roof and windows increased to a delightful point. Not so light she couldn’t hear it at all, but not so loud that it was uncomfortable. Opening her eyes again, and looking towards her small and cosy kitchen, the small mare started towards it, the promise of a couple of apricot jam tarts being a delectable lure.
Not bothering to switch her magitech lights on, and just lighting candles instead gave her home that old-fashioned, warm and cosy feeling that she adored. The only thing she lacked was a nice crackling fireplace in her living room, but believing wholeheartedly that beggars can’t be choosers, she had just simply accepted the slight misgiving with a shrug.
Two delicious jam tarts and a glass of water later, Obsidian Quill found herself ready to get herself a good night’s sleep- but tonight, not for her was her large and comfy bed. No, for once, she was going to ‘slum it’ on the sofa, underneath the beautifully crafted and enchanted quilt that her unicorn grandmother had made her nearly two decades ago.
The absolute masterwork of a patchwork quilt would keep her warm in the coldest night, and keep her cool in the heat of a summer night. And it would, for all intents and purposes, outlive many generations to come, so potent were the enchantments woven into it.
Obsidian missed her mad old Granny. Ivory Tower- the foul mouthed and outspoken mare from Trottingham was like a metaphorical wrecking ball towards those that didn’t respect her, but for those that cared enough to listen, she was wise well beyond her years, kind, and had learned in depth how ponies thought.
She knew just what to say, and exactly when to say it- she didn’t mince her words at all, and would be straight to the point. For good or ill. The name of Ivory Tower was pretty inappropriate, as she had been a very well grounded mare, and not taken by whimsy or flights of fancy.
Obsidian smiled at the memories of her grandmother cussing out her dad when he came home drunk one night during Obsidian’s childhood. And it was the kind of brutal, intense verbal beatdown that stays with you, because he still doesn’t dare drink to this day.
Another memory floated past her mind’s eye, this time of seeing Granny Tower actually sewing this quilt together from what looked like a wheelbarrow of offcuts and fabric scraps.
The elderly but powerful unicorn had been sitting in her rocking chair, being orbited by dozens of fabric squares, cheerfully humming a jaunty tune as she carefully and expertly stitched them together.
The elderly but powerful unicorn had been sitting in her rocking chair, being orbited by dozens of fabric squares, cheerfully humming a jaunty tune as she carefully and expertly stitched them together.
Just as many needles and different coloured threads orbited her in the opposite direction. This had been a phenomenal display of effortless magical prowess to the impressionable little teenage Obsidian that was watching her back then.
And that very quilt is what wrapped the little brown mare up as she lay on her comfy old sofa, the familiar scent as much a comfort as the quilt itself.
And that very quilt is what wrapped the little brown mare up as she lay on her comfy old sofa, the familiar scent as much a comfort as the quilt itself.
And as she began to drift off into Princess Luna’s domain of dreams, with a content yawn and the rain drumming against her window, Obsidian Quill simply said, “Thanks Granny.”
And then, as always, sleep claimed her until the next sunrise came.
The End.
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Hey everyone,
This is more of a piece to set into stone some of this character’s background and interests before I commit to an OC Insights entry for her.
I absolutely loved putting this together, and it’s about time that little Obsidian Quill got something concrete- for though Frazzle may be my main OC, Obsidian Quill is a very important player in especially the later parts of the story of my AU, and will be getting a lot of stories and art in the future. Consider this a taste of things to come.
Frazzle and all of my other characters will be featured in their own right as well, but in smaller capacities.
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