There's a reason Mark had a special attachment to Gorobi-Chan, the shovel with the soul of a girl trapped inside.
He could relate.
He was only 11 when he learned about rule 34 on the internet, and after recovering from the shock of seeing the My Hoagie Academia girls doing...THAT with deli meats, he quickly realized that most boys didn't admire beautiful and bubbly anime heroines for the same reason he did.
He didn't want to have sex with them. He wanted to BE them.
He wanted the cool weapons, the pretty outfits, the flowing hair, the cute accessories, the admiration and respect from people over the age of 10...
But most of all he wanted to feel...kawaii. Maybe even beautiful.
Reaching for his glasses on the nightstand, he stared at the poster of Snow Racing Miku hanging over his bed one last time, before rolling out of the covers to scowl at his reflection in the full length mirror on his closet door.
He didn't look anything like Snow Racing Miku. Or the sandwich slinging heroines of My Hoagie Academia. Or even the stupid shovel.
He looked like a boy. A greasy, pizza faced boy who only ever made 3 friends in his entire life. And only kept 2.
"Squeak squeak!"
Mark turned to his ferret's enclosure and smiled, just a teeny bit. Ok so he had one more friend than he counted.
"'Mornin' Elder Mark II - how's my little princess?" It was no mistake naming his female ferret after himself. "Who's a pretty girl?"
He caught himself in the mirror again, while reaching into her cage to scratch her chin.
'Not me...' he thought bitterly.
After checking her water, bedding and carefully measured out her pellets, he gave far less attention and care to himself. The most he could do was grab a Mountain Dew from the fridge, a pop tart from the pantry and half-hazardly spray himself in a cloud of deodorant while stepping into the (mostly) clean clothes he found on the floor.
Why take care of yourself if you don't even like yourself?
"Be a good girl, Two-y Chan! Mwah!" He blew the stinky weasel kisses before closing the door to his room, and made his way to the Creek.
It took Mark exactly the length of a Kyary Pamyu Pamyu album to get to Elder Rock. He had the route memorized. Every crack in the sidewalk, every fallen log, every exposed tree root. All trying to trip him, but how could they when he had been walking to Elder Rock everyday since he was 6 years old?
As he cut through the Trading Tree, those Stump kids who's names he could never bother to remember waved at him. He couldn't hear anything they were saying with his headphones on, but he waved back, if not a little dismissively.
He would never admit it, even if given the most brutal of swirlies or noogies, but...he liked the creek kids. They reminded him of simpler times, before everyone his age besides Barry and David left the Creek.
Before Kenny left the Creek. Before Kenny left HIM.
And with that ugly thought bouncing around in his skull, Mark climbed under Elder Rock like a miserable little potato bug.
"Hiya Mark!" David practically rocketed out of his folding chair to greet Mark, tripping over himself and falling down in the process. Knocking his helmet clean off.
"OOF! Dammit, David!"
And Mark to the ground as well.
"Oh my gosh - are you ok David?"
YOU ARE READING
Markdoka Magica! An Elders of the Creek Fanfic
Hayran KurguThere's a reason Elder Mark has a special attachment to Gorobi-Chan, the shovel with the soul of a girl trapped inside. He can relate. Or Mark struggles with with his gender identity and expression in secret. Barry won't keep his fat nose in his own...
