1 - Ants – they're crawling all over my table right now
Chapter 1: Itch’s all in the wrist
Mark had been heading back from a grocery run at Canterlot’s newest shopping market district. It had all the newest beauty products, skin care and skin cream, moisturisers and soothers, all the necessities of one plagued by the torments of skin discomfort.
The products weren’t for him of course, they were for his 'hapless victims'. Although, Mark liked to think that his victims weren’t actually victims, but rather just ponies unlucky enough to have seen him around. He once heard that with great power came great responsibility. True to that motto, he had indeed endeavoured to be slightly powerful with a smidgen of responsibility.
“Stop, thief!” a shrill voice cried and Mark was instantly in action. It was for scenes like these that he felt truly alive.
A dastardly pony sporting a ragged beard was tearing through the crowd. He was dodging the unsuccessful lunging attempts that other helpful members of the community threw at him with ease.
The thief cackled as he broke through the crowded marketplace into the market square. He took to the air, spreading his wide pale-brown wings in a triumphant whoosh.
“Ha ha ha!” he jeered at the crowd. “You’ll never be able to catch me!”
But just as he was about to beat his wings, to escape with nary a care, the pegasus suddenly froze, his eye twitching, and his wings starting to flop around uselessly. Various other pegasi that were ready to give chase, cautiously held back, interested in this new development as the thief suddenly fell out of the air in a tumbling heap.
“Ah!” he cried in horror. “It’s all over me! Get it off! Get it off!”
The crowd gathered around the poor pegasus as he flopped around. After several seconds when he realised that hooves were not the best tools to relieve an urgent burning sensation under a hairy coat, he resorted to rolling around on the cobblestones in an undignified manner.
“Oh dear Celestia,” he exclaimed in agony. “Make the it stop! Make it stop! It itches all over me!”
Mark, who had been generally unnoticed by the crowd, nonchalantly strode over to the pegasus and picked up the saddlebag that was tossed aside. He casually sidestepped the thief as he continued to roll around in a fit of itching torment.
“I believe this is yours,” he said quietly, handing over the saddlebag to the stunned sea-green mare that had originally cried out. She glanced over at the thief as he let loose a deluge of curses while he rolled around more furiously.
“Thank you…” she began, but the strange creature was gone.
–––
On his way back, he found the train was delayed at the station. A few enquiries around and he was belatedly informed that a couple of trees had fallen across the tracks, it would take a while to clear. While he was waiting around for the hubbub to die down, he located himself a seat on the bench and placed his head in his hands. He wondered what he would do, after all he had done everything he had planned to do. He sighed and took off his minotaur imported backpack, placing it beside himself and settled in for a little daydreaming.
–––
Mark could remember the times he’d been back on Earth. No powers, no talking mythical creatures, just a normal office job and a quiet evening spent tinkering in his small workshop. Mark liked to think he was a maker of things and that if he were more motivated, perhaps he could come up with the next greatest thing.
But he had always been daunted by the creativity and innovation that so many others before him and around him had shown. Around the maker scene it felt like there were always more people younger, more driven than he was, and they were going leaps and bounds into the future, with their ideas and passion paving the way to a new world.
Somehow, it irked Mark that he’d never really done anything that he considered to be important. He’d never gone on that round the world trip to discover himself, he’d never taken his friend up on that offer for partnership in his creative startup, he’d just drifted along, being content with what he had, but at the same time, not. He didn’t like crowds, he wasn’t an eloquent speaker, he just liked being himself, tinkering away.
Mark was a model citizen. He paid his taxes, he attended those long community meetings and he liked to put little dwarves on the front of his lawn. By day he was a normal human, by night he was… well he was sleeping. He liked to take it easy during the night.
Also, though he felt it may be necessary to occasionally use his powers for the betterment of pony-kind, he’d always felt sorry for the victims of his frankly frightening superpower. The next day, Mr. Thief would receive a complimentary gift of skin cream and hoof moisturiser in his cell. Let it not be said that Mark was not an accommodating vigilante of justice.
When he arrived in Equestria, he thought it was mildly surprising. After getting used to the new terrain and the natives, he went about and quietly introduced himself politely. Afterwards, he worked earnestly as a temporary resident until he was granted Equestrian citizenship. To most ponies, the initial interest died down when they saw that Mark was generally a nice person. He helped out whenever he could, but otherwise kept to himself.
Mark lived in a small apartment in Manehatten but would occasionally head towards Canterlot to purchase a few odds and ends. After a few wayward hand gestures at a particularly pedantic store clerk, Mark found that he had the ludicrous power to make ponies itchy. Mark kept the power to himself, he liked things peaceful and quiet. On the odd occasion he would lend a helping hand, or perhaps itch, when a robbery took place, but on the whole he just stayed at home and tinkered as usual. The only difference was that his Canterlot trips would end up at the lotion store as well.
–––
“Hey,” a voice called, disrupting him from his reminiscing. Mark recognised the voice belonging to the mare from the markets. Opening his eyes, he spotted the sea-green coated pony giving him a nervous smile.
“Waiting for the train?” she asked sitting down beside him tentatively. Mark shuffled his backpack to the ground and the emboldened pony shifted closer to Mark.
“Yes,” he replied simply giving a polite smile.
“I’m Leafy Green,” she introduced herself. “But you can just call me Leaf.”
Mark nodded pleasantly. “Nice to meet you Leaf. I’m Mark.”
Leaf smiled and sidled a little closer. “I’d like to thank you.”
“For what?”
At that, Leaf wilted a little. “Uhm, for returning my saddlebag.”
Mark waved a hand in dismissal. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. Anyone would have done the same.”
Leaf hesitated. “Well not only that, I’d like to thank you for stopping the thief too.”
Mark kept his voice decidedly neutral. “And why would you think I would have anything to do with that?” he asked softly.
Leaf pointed a hoof at his backpack, some skin moisturiser was poking out. Mark hastily covered his backpack. Leaf smiled as she relaxed against the seat and studied the ponies moving along the platform.
“I’ve heard of a strange creature that been sighted among various thefts and crimes around the cities.” She studied him from the corner of her eye. “In all of those cases the perpetrators were all complaining of itching.” Finally, she grinned at him. “And after that they were all sent a tub of soothing lotion. I think that’s a connection.”
“Is that so?” Mark replied noncommittally, a trickle of sweat beaded on his brow.
Leaf smiled. “You don’t have to say anything, your secret is safe with me.”
At that, Mark snorted and he was saved from having to make a reply when the conductor bellowed across the platform.
“All aboard the express to Manehatten!”
Mark excused himself. “Well that’s my cue to leave,” he said, gathering his backpack. He hefted it on his shoulders and bowed his head to Leaf. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Leaf.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mark. I’ll be itching to see in you in action again.”
At that, cheeks flaming, Mark backed away from Leaf and boarded the train in due haste. As he sat down on the comfortable seats and stared out the window he found that he was smiling to himself. Well perhaps it would be nice to be recognised from time to time.
Author's Note
I was kind of bored waiting for my editor to finish editing.
Next Chapter: Scratch that. Geddit? Okay I'll go in the corner now.
As always, my sanguine readers, thanks for reading!
P.S. I'm not kidding there are ants all over my table, why?!
