Sparing the lives of others had always been Mane-iac’s single redeeming quality, because it showed well enough a level of compassion for those without supernatural talents. At the same time, her sparing those two mares back in the woods made her feel… incomplete, and as though she should be doing much more to better corrupt her town. If only to retain her devious nature, she figured that with this alone time spent away from Poison, she might better become acquainted with the locals she’d missed during her off time. After all, she wouldn’t want the homely citizens of Maretropolis to think she was beginning to go soft on them.
Soon enough, after only minutes of searching around town, she spotted a wandering pedestrian in the back alleys, walking around with a sulky look on his lowly held face. Mane-iac began creeping behind him, stalking her prey from a fair distance, and what prey he was, too. Suited, hatted, and a head full of hair! Yes, that’s what she wanted! Not money, oh no… Not even jewelry, or riches. This steed was going to suffer through his very follicles.
She crept up closer to him, but while she could, she took in his appearance as well. As usual, he was the generic business stallion who’d been overworked yet again, intending on not being disturbed while he took his time trotting the long way back home. Of course, at this time, he’d decided to take a shortcut, a choice he’d soon be regretting. He wore basic attire, such as work slacks, a suit and tie, and what seemed to be a reporter’s hat.
“Perfect,” the Mane-iac purred.
“Who’s there?!” the stallion asked immediately.
He turned to look, but saw nothing but the same trashcan he’d recently walked by earlier on. However, as he turned back around with a nervous motion to continue walking, none other than the mad mare herself leaped down from a justly killed lamp post.
“Boo!” she yelled.
He stumbled back, screaming, and tumbled right into a heap of garbage. “T-the… THE MANE-IAC!”
Hearing her name being shouted out like that brought a sense of familiarity to her. “Haha! Yes, foolish steed! Wandering the night? All alone, in the dark… and, with such a well made mane, too!”
She chortled even more while he began holding onto his head for dear life, and then pleaded nervously, “You can’t do this to me! I’ve got a wife and kids waiting for me at home! We’re to have roast surprise tonight... What’ll they think If I return looking like I’d just come from some sort of… wild party?! Please, let me go! I’ll do whatever you want! Y-you want money? I can get you money! Gold?”
She blinked with a sweet smile. “Your… mane?”
“Please! Anything but that!”
She wheezed suddenly, a wild grin creeping plainly across her wicked muzzle. “YES! Cower before me! It does not change your fate. Once I’m done with you…” Instinctively, she rose one of her ebony claws up easily, or more exactly, the green one at the end, and pointed it at him. Without realizing what she was doing, her mane surged with electricity, causing her to let out a yelp of her own. Luckily, nopony was around to hear the cries coming from just around the corner.
Right before the Mane-iac’s eyes, her victim began holding onto his forehead in pain rather than fear, and with both knees, too, while his scalp turned into a soft blue color. His sideburns shaped into zig zags, and the mullet only added insult to injury. If that wasn’t bad enough, his bangs grew long, and curved straight into the air, nearly going in a complete circle. Not only was his mane ruined, but for whatever reason, the coloring of the poor thing’s upper coat was also died peach blonde.
Now, he was utterly ruined, and beyond hasty repair. It’d take the gentlecolt at least six or seven months to return his upper body to normal, and be able to blend with society again. He felt weakened after that experience, and as for the artist in question, she couldn’t fathom how this had happened either. She’d hardly touched him, and yet, he was already well taken care of. The claw that had done this looked at her, seemingly, and then drilled its sharp end into the concrete wall next to her. With a smile, she said, “I’ll have to remember, then, that the green one is the Defacer Canon! Mwahaha!!!”
Taking a look at the fallen stranger one last time, he gave her a more rotten attitude, and made eye contact. “B-by tomorrow, all of Maretropolis will know of this! Y-you're finished!”
She smirked even more, and then said, “Silly, diluted citizen of this town…. You will do my bidding, yes, and then the world will know of Mane-iac’s return!”
He shook before her, extending his hoof, but then he collapsed. With that done and over with, there was nothing else for her to attend to. Undoubtedly, he’d let the whole entire city know that she’s back, and seeing as how the police like to keep things like this hidden, everything was now falling into her favor. Were it not for him not only being a reporter, but one of the best at that, unbenounced to her, the Mane-iac might not’ve had such popularity in store for her now. Whether that was considered a good or bad thing, however, would have to be determined at a later date.
Picking up the pace as to not keep her friend waiting, Mane-iac arrived at Dunkard’s, a local donut distributor factory conveniently located just at the start of town, where both the mares could easily meet. Poison Joke was hoisted over the railing, and seemed to be looking at something. “What troubles you?” Mane-iac asked while her claws clamped up next to the mare across the roof.
“I could hear you for miles, coming loudly with your claws… literally piercing everything on your way here.” She looked up while she fixed her bowtie, and asked, “Do you want the town to know of your return?”
This told her something. Just from that question alone, Mane-iac could tell that the Joker preferred stealth as compared to being an actual supervillainess. It all made sense, too, because her name was able to reach many more than Mane-iac’s. Though, that’s only because of just how downright evil this mare really was inside, and outside as well. Just by being around her, Mane-iac was already beginning to understand just what kind of criminal the Joker was.
So, to avoid problems, she admitted, “Even though murder and invisibility is how you make your infamy, it’s not my way.” Rising to the air by using her tail, she exclaimed, “Tonight, haha… I attacked a reporter! My name will soon return quickly.”
Poison just stood there, staring. Though, once the mare across from her lowered herself back down, Poison quickly started giggling rather than being upset. “I think I’ve got you figured out… You really ARE bonkers! Like, I’m insane to the point of which I’ll stab whoever I want unless the pay to not do so is good enough… You, though; you’re more about exactly what you’re after, which is to deface everypony in town.”
Mane-iac nodded. “After that, Maretropolis will be destroyed! Hahaha!”
This only made her friend laugh that much more. “Now I know what that guard meant when it comes to levels of madness… Anyways, look, we need to be serious for a moment.”
“Yes, what’s the plan?” Mane-iac asked, but instead of getting an answer, Poison Joker’s hoof started moving her mane out of the way. Then, she quickly leaped to the nearest neighboring building. That in turn made the Mane-iac follow along, and as they headed towards what Mane-iac thought was still Midday Park, she soon realized that wasn’t the case. Instead, for whatever reason, they arrived at some newly built music store.
“Here we are,” the seemingly confusing mare said.
“This… is not a laboratory, or even the first place I’d guess there’d be a scientist of any kind.”
Poison nodded. “Say no more, my humble associate.”
With her roots seeping through her mane, she unlatched the rooftop door, and in they went. Inside was actually quite regal as opposed to the outside look of things. A few doors here and there, but only one was opened. That was the one on their right, and it wasn’t opened by anypony but Poison herself. Behind the door, as one might randomly guess, was a recording studio. Mane-iac entered the spacious, on-air back room, and noticed all the buttons and knobs, but she was more interested with what was behind the shielding glass.
Through the translucent window showed some brilliantly white coated, electric blue maned, and very busy looking mare playing away with the keyboard. As if that wasn’t enough, instead of using her hooves to make her music, she had what looked like… extra appendages mechanically attached to her arms, all the way up to her elbows. “What is that?” the Mane-iac asked with a dull tone.
“Her newest invention. She calls then hands. Five fingers, which lets her do a whole lot more, like those of monkeys. It’s still buggy, though, because it’s hooked up to her cerebral cortex.”
Upon further examination, the Mane-iac saw that her friend was right. Steel wires hooked up directly to her back, but as the song ended, her palms rested on the floor in front of the glass, and the two watching got to see the steam exiting the center hole on her side neck. The wires released their grip, and off came the inventions. She stood, a bit whoosy, but was caught just in time by Poison who intruded through the now unlocked door. She acted in a quickness, and just before the music symbol cutie marked girl could hit the floor with a powerful thud, her friend caught her, and settled her down on the couch behind them.
The mane-iac, still in the recording room hadn’t realized the living quarter-styled environment in the background, but it was very homely, and had enough room for her to use the smoother sides of her sharp talons to move around safely. In front of her laid the music symbol cutie marked tomcolt. By the looks of the equipment she was not only using, but surrounded herself with, she was a highly certified technician.
“This is Vertical Streak, Versus for short.”
Mane-iac loomed over, curious about the deary’s condition. “Is it alive?”
Poison gave her this unamused look, and shook her head. “She’s quite alive, but sleepy… She must’ve been going through another all-nighter. She does this to herself from time to time…”
“And, this is who will be teaching us on our newest skills?”
Huffing, the plant-like pony got up, her roots gently laying the genius down to confront the guest. “She’s an undercover agent able to get me anything I need from anyone that opposes me. She works directly for the Power Ponies. This means, she’s got the goods. You’ll just have to be a bit more trusting… Although, gotta give you credit so far.”
She turned around as she finished her sentence, but gave Mane-iac a glance, and made sure she could see her smirking. Time ticked on with all three ponies remaining in pristine silence. Then, Versus awakened. However, instead of acting friendly towards the Joker upon seeing her, she calmly pushed her away, and wandered through the back door.
Behind it, the two that stood where they were heard the owner call forth, “I’m in the kitchen! Poison, get in here. Bring that guest of yours with you. We’ll have to take a look at her… things, or whatever’s attached to her mane.”
Poison walked in calmly, and with a gesturing hoof, instructed Mane-iac to do the same. Inside was the typical cooking area. Tiled floors, black and white checkered; a fridge, stove, table and chairs, and a lamp above head. It was hardly what one would call a base, but it would have to do. After all, they needed answers, and if Versus had the intellect in regards to their newest powers, according to the Joker, then the Mane-iac had no choice but to remain silent for the time being. She'd simply have to hope that this traitorous pony could truthfully help them out in some way, like Poison promised.