Daring Do and The Turquoise Serpent

by Time Pony Victorious

Chapter 2

II

MARE DO WELL

The Daily Bridle

Night came quickly for Manehattan during these latter months of winter. Darkness clouded the skies and flooded the streets. It wasn't strange, however, to hear city noise even at the dead of night in this metropolis. Being the infamous city that never sleeps, Manehattan is always rife with activity no matter the hour.

The night was always filled with some motion, from the casual midnight shopping to more sinister objectives.

At the corner of east 125th Street and Malcolt X Boulevard stood a tiny, humble dessert shop, The Flying Cupcake; it was a traditionally ran store that sold a variety of treats and, ironically, muffins rather than cupcakes (the owner has reported being allergic to cupcake frosting).

The shattering of windows took precedence over the noise of automobiles and broke through the night. Three large stallions, clad in dark clothes that obscured their cutie marks and faces, quickly hopped through the newly formed entrance.

One went for the register up front, the second went for the back for, presumably, any leftover muffins or cakes, and the third strangely started to snatch the napkins set at each table.

"No alarm," remarked the napkin-thief.

"What can you expect from a place like this?" sneered the unicorn at the register. "Look, thirty-four bits? Geez, why'd you pick out a place like this Rocky?"

"Just shaddup and get this over with!" called out Rocky from the back.

The pillaging only took a few minutes and they left as fast as they arrived. Leaping through the window, the three carefully looked at each end of the street to ensure there was no police response.

Making their way down the street, they muttered amongst themselves in a strange combination of annoyance, pride, and fear.

"So, do you think that… you know, she's around?" asked Rocky.

"No way," snorted the unicorn. "You've got as much chance meeting her than you do winning the Powerball."

They laughed at that prospect, unaware of their stalker shrouded in the night. She stood atop the building, watching the would-be thieves cackling amongst themselves. Her cape billowed in the dry night air, her hat, extravagant and prideful, cast an uneasy shadow on the street. Noticing the shadow, they looked at it and eventually at who was casting it.

The Mysterious Mare Do Well was as imposing as ever. Her mask was a veil of darkness save her expressive eyes which glowed with ghastly power.

"T-that's her!" Rocky cried.

Without another word, they ran off screaming.

Mare Do Well took chase.

Running alongside the building edge, she kept up with them fairly well, but would not be able to capture them unless she was at ground level. With a quick click to her belt, a device the shape and size of a baseball popped from the belt and onto her hoof. Casually, she tossed it at the group. The ball expanded until it became a large net with two heavy counterweights. It collapsed on one of the stallions but Rocky and the unicorn barely dodged it.

Mare Do Well took her chance and leapt from the building, her wings unfurled and leveled out, cushioning her fall. But she didn't take to the skies and instead relied on her acrobatic ability, landing on a lamppost she pulled out a whip from her belt and lashed it out to Rocky. Catching his hind leg, she quickly tied it to the lamppost and proceeded to chase the last thief.

He turned into an alley, only to find a dead-end. Turning around, Mare Do Well blocked his exit. He whimpered but charged his horn with magic.

"B-back off!" warned the unicorn thief, but that did not impede Mare Do Well. She continued to trot toward him.

With two quick magical bolts, he fired at her intending to disable her legs. His magic was, however, parried by a magical shield erected by Mare Do Well.

"It's true? You have wings and magic?" This time he fell on his butt, cowering before the winged unicorn. "What are you?"

Mare Do Well stopped in front of him, pausing as if she were going to say something. But, instead, she conjured up more magic, enchanted some more rope from her belt and neatly wrapped up the unicorn for the police to handle.

When the police finally arrived, an hour later, they had found all three thieves tied up together like a present. Along with that was a bag filled with all of the stolen stuff and a note that read:

"Here you go! Courtesy of your friendly neighborhood Mare Do Well!"

~---~

Daylight filtered through the windows, brushing down on the lump huddled up in the bed nearby. The room, save the spot of light created by the window, was absurdly dark. Dust danced and fell like snow in the light, it was depressingly musky. A single dresser stood opposite of the large queen sized bed pushed up against the wall, off to the right was the "writer's corner" with tall stacks of paper, broken, discarded quills, and an old computer model buried underneath the maelstrom of creative stagnation.

Several degrees and pictures were pinned up to the walls, but they were marred with dust and rendered illegible. The ceiling fan pathetically squeaked as it rotated in a quiet, incoherent cadence. And on the bed, the pony shifted uncomfortably and muttered despondently.

The alarm clock atop the nightstand buzzed when the time morphed into 9:23 AM. A tired hoof reached out and clapped the clock, ceasing its incessant screech.

After a few agonizing minutes, she got up from her warm cocoon and trotted over to the dresser.

Felicity Peridot's lime-green mane was an unholy nightmare to those with a penchant for hygiene. Since it was naturally curly, it expanded and frizzed up, going ridiculous lengths to embarrass its owner. Her horn was hidden underneath the mess of hair and glowed a dull green, levitating a brush that tried to undo the horror her mane had created.

The clock read 9:40 by the time she was able to tame that mane. Once satisfied, Felicity went into the kitchen for some breakfast. Her home was a tiny one-room apartment laid smack-dab in the Upper East Side of Manehattan. It wasn't fancy and clearly reflected her salary. There were little to no personal touches to this apartment; no family pictures, no art, not even a plant.

Newspapers and articles laid scattered virtually in every nook and cranny of the apartment. There were a dozen of articles on the enigma Mare Do Well, but there were dozens more on other things, as if Felicity wanted to focus on something other than a crazed, masked vigilante.

At least, that's what the newspaper wanted you to think she was.

The reality is, the Mysterious Mare Do Well wasn't a very mysterious mare at all. She was just a humble reporter, living in the Upper East Side with a sudden craving for Daisy omelets.

It was strange how somepony like Felicity could get into the vigilante business, although it wasn't very heroic to be honest. It wasn't as if she was bitten by a radioactive crocodile, or that her parents were billionaires, she doesn't have a high-tech power-armor, a magical hammer or shield. It all happened one day when a hot-air balloon operator spiraled out of control, it was night at that time and Felicity was the only one out there. She saw the balloon fall and went to action, leaping from building to building to eventually intercept the falling operator, saving her.

Felicity's face, however, was obscured by the darkness and the operator never really saw her. She described Felicity as a swift, heroic and strong mare! She nearly tripped over herself when she heard that description. Felicity wasn't the most graceful of ponies; it was sheer dumb luck that she managed to save that pony. And soon the mysterious, heroic mare was nicknamed (wait for it) The Mysterious Mare Do Well.

After that day, Felicity donned a hoofmade outfit and saved a few more ponies. There was that incident with the out of control carriage carrying conspicuous tourists, that particularly precarious part with the collapsing construction field, and the dangerously destructive damaged dam.

She had gained a reputation and for some reason wanted to continue. It wasn't particularly dangerous, except when criminals are involved, and plus it gave her life a new meaning.

Staring down at her quill-to-paper-and-hat cutie mark, Felicity felt disappointed that journalism would be her destiny. She loved journalism, don't misunderstand, but it made her feel limited, restricted to one talent. With Mare Do Well, she could help ponies and provided some meaning to her talents.

Someponies wouldn't understand that though.

The front door swung open and a tall Minotaur crashed through. This may seem like a strange, if not chaotic, occurrence, but Felicity didn't bat an eye toward the clumsy Minotaur.

He was incredibly large in stature; had snow white fur with grey specks frosted on his coat, bright green eyes and crooked horns. His name was Aberrant Flair, he was Felicity's partner-in-crime and photographer for The Daily Bridle.

Lumbering over to Felicity, Flair's frantic attitude made it difficult to take him seriously. He wore a silly red bowtie, a black waistcoat under a gray jacket and pants that did nothing to cover up his hooves. He was strange amongst Minotaurs, according to him he is much smaller than most Minotaurs his age and he was deemed a deviant in his tribe. Minotaurs ruled with strength, power, and brawn, but Flair wasn't as strong as his kind and he certainly had no interest in fighting but rather books! Minotaurs weren't necessarily intelligent and Flair was a genius compared to them (even compared to most ponies).

Even his name shows how strange he is. Minotaurs are named after one year has passed, their name is decided based on how they behave in that one year and it reflects their personality traits and what is unique to them. Flair took interest in books even at that age and decided to devote himself to the pursuit of knowledge, much to the chagrin of his parents.

"Have you heard?" Flair cried.

"I, uh, just woke up there Flair," Felicity admitted. "If you're referring to my loud alarm clock, then yes, I did hear it."

"No, no, your article is being pulled from this week's column!"

"What?!" Felicity stood suddenly, startling the Minotaur and spilling her breakfast as well, "Why? Who's doing it? I swear if it is Quill Tip-"

"No," Flair put down an article on the table. "Jog decided that this would be much better than your original work."

Felicity looked at the article and rolled her eyes. It was something she had written to please the Editor in Chief, Jog Jockey Jennet (never call him by his last name if you value your life). Ever since Felicity created her alter-ego, The Mysterious Mare Do Well, Jog has been obsessed about her but not in a good way. For some deluded reason, Jog thinks that Mare Do Well is a maniac, a menace, a monster that must be stopped! And using his journalistic connections, he wants to show everypony how much of a menace Mare Do Well is.

Not only that, but Jog is also obsessed about finding out who Mare Do Well is.

"If she's such a hero," he said once. "Then what is she hiding underneath that mask?"

So, now Felicity has to deal with a single-minded boss who will stop at nothing until he unravels the mystery that is Mare Do Well. But there is a silver lining in all of this; Felicity can pretty much cash in on this Mare Do Well controversy. It isn't like she enjoys perpetuating this fiasco, but a journalist like Felicity doesn't exactly have high living standards. Having Flair take a few photos of Mare Do Well, while she writes up something about the alter-ego and bam, she has guaranteed that she is eating breakfast next week.

But not this time. This time, Felicity wanted to write about something other than Mare Do Well, she wanted to cover the upcoming Solar Eclipse that Princess Celestia is producing. She was one of Celestia's private students, and she wanted to honor her teacher in covering the eclipse. Not only that, but eclipses are rare events. As the princess needs to strain herself to create an eclipse that lasts five minutes, she was so spent afterward all the cake in the world wouldn't rouse her.

It was a spectacular event that deserved coverage, and is certainly more important than some silly little mare running around in tights.

"Come on, I've got a bone to pick with him." Felicity stormed out, mane ruffled and everything.

When they had arrived at The Daily Bridle, Jog was having his mid-morning rants about Mare Do Well.

"Thief!" he shouted when Felicity stepped inside, she was so frazzled by her previous anger that she thought Jog was talking about her. "That Mare Do Well needs to be stopped!" Well, technically that was about her.

"She stopped a diamond robbery, singlehoofedly, before the guards could arrive," placated Emerald Klondike, a fellow journalist. Klondike (or as he preferred, Klon), was a tall stallion, a unicorn like Felicity. His coat was pure white and his chocolate brown mane was messy, as usual, but Felicity didn't mind. The way his green eyes twinkled when he talked to her, or when his goofy little mane spilled over his eyes were only a few of the things that she liked about him.

The fact that he was the only pony that treated Felicity with respect also drew her to him. But Felicity's personality usually enjoys sabotaging her. By making her clumsy or silly around him, she couldn't keep her mind straight and become flustered. Just like now.

"Fleece?" Klon asked, "Uh, you okay?"

She blinked and shook her head, embarrassed. "Y-yeah, of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay? It's a beautiful day out after all."

The windows hummed from the force of the powerful winds and rain, Felicity had a strong urge to stick her head in the sand.

But, to her relief, he laughed. "Yeah, rainy days are nice too."

"What've you got for me Peri?" Jog asked, anxious for another Mare Do Well piece. "Mare Do Well with her hoof in the cookie jar?"

Jog wasn't exactly an intimidating pony. He was stout with a sour, pinched up face, like he ate something bad, and was quite short. Felicity was taller than him by just a bit, but that didn't stop him from causing his workers to cower in fear. What he lacks in size, he makes up with attitude and volume. His voice was gravely, like rocks in a blender, and he spoke with such power it was like listening to someone with a megaphone. Jog's appearance even matched that loud abrasiveness of his voice. His coat was gray with age, his mane was salt and pepper like, and it wouldn't be hard to call him handsome if his perpetual frown went away. He always had stubble, as if either he can't grow a full beard or his razor was just that bad.

His voice managed to get her focused on why she was here. "No, J.J. why did you pull the eclipse story?"

For emphasis, she slammed her article on his desk. "You know how much I wanted you to go with that over the Mare Do Well piece. So, why?"

"You're the only one who has managed to get photos of that bug Mare Do Well," Jog said simply. "You and that Minotaur of yours-"

"Flair," she corrected.

"So, why waste time covering the eclipse? Everyone already knows about it, there's no need for more coverage. I need my best ponies to expose Mare Do Well for what she is, a no-good, self-righteous vigilante! That includes you."

"But-"

"This isn't up for discussion Peri"-- (how she hated that nickname),--"Your eclipse piece, as good as it was, isn't going to be used."

Felicity couldn't believe it. Her alter-ego was stopping her from writing what she wanted! If she wasn't Mare Do Well, she would sock that hat-wearing mare right in the face.

"But, yo-, you can't-"

"I can, and have."

Klon looked at Felicity sympathetically, but she was so angry that she couldn't bring herself to look back. Instead, she just walked out.

Flair was waiting for her outside, the doorway was much too short for his absurd height, "So? How'd it go?"

"It didn't," she answered miserably.

He said nothing. He, after all, knew exactly what kind of pony J.J was, stubborn as a mule.

"Fleece," said Klon as he approached her. "Hey, I'll try to talk to J.J. about your article, try to see if he'll reconsider."

She knew he wouldn't, but the sentiment was nice. "Thanks Klon."

Noticing her mood hadn't improved, Klon tried something else. "I read that eclipse piece by the way. It was good and deserved to be in the front page."

Feeling self-conscious, Felicity mumbled her thanks. When he left them, Felicity felt conflicted, both wanting to punch out J.J. and wanting to hug Klon. Unfortunately, she didn't have the guts to do either.

Comments

[MrPikmario]

....Mare Do Well as Spiderman......................My brain just exploded. MOAR.