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vanishingreyes · 9 months

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A Seal Seeks Help || Marcus & Xóchitl

TIMING: Late June. LOCATION: Xóchitl's office. SUMMARY: Marcus comes to see Xóchitl for therapy. CONTENT WARNINGS: Depression.

Marcus stared blankly at his ceiling, unable to bring himself to do much else. It was another day where his mental state was at a particularly low point. He had been having these days much more frequently as of late. But what could he do? He had isolated himself from everyone who ever loved him, abandoned his accomplished career, and was slowly being driven to total madness. And worst of all, it was one of the people in this world who should have had his back no matter what that brought him to this state.

A gnawing sensation grew in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t tell if it was due to the pain of remembering or the fact that he hadn’t eaten in 36 hours. Probably the latter, he figured. He managed to drag himself out of bed and take a look at what was in his fridge, which wasn’t much. He hadn’t been to the store in weeks. He decided something had to change. His changes may grow to kill him eventually, but he at least wouldn’t allow himself to be miserable on the way out.

A curious search yielded few viable results, but one looked promising. A clinical psychologist right here in Wicked’s Rest. He wouldn’t have to go far, and they’d be more likely to be sympathetic to concerns that pertain more to the supernatural. Not that he’d jump right in with “I’m actually a seal person and someone here stole my pelt. Also I’m slowly dying without it.” Best not to set off any alarm bells until he could show her he wasn’t actually a crazy person. He took a look at her page and was impressed enough with her credentials to try and book an appointment.

And so, his appointment with Dr. Xóchitl Reyes was booked.

She supposed that she shouldn’t have been surprised when she actually got referrals and her schedule filled up. It was good, it was even necessary if Xóchitl wanted to make a living. She might’ve had a trust fund, but she didn’t want to touch that unless necessary. The fewer questions her moms asked, the better. She didn’t especially relish the fact that she was lying to them, even in the smallest bit, but it would have to do, if she wanted them to believe that she was better.

Her appointment for today was with Marcus Fremont, a lighthouse keeper - his first appointment, he hadn’t been a referral from a past psychologist - which didn’t especially matter one way or the other, but having people who were brand new was something of a thrill for Xóchitl, even if she wouldn’t always fully admit it.

She’d set out the white noise machine outside of her office, before going back in and grabbing a pad of paper - she’d transfer notes over to the computer later on, but Xóchitl figured it was more personal if she wasn’t partially hidden behind a screen. She heard a knock on the door and went over to open it, offering her most reassuring smile. “Marcus, I presume? You can come right in, and sit wherever is most comfortable for you.”

Marcus couldn’t really explain it, but he was feeling very nervous going into his appointment. He hadn’t really opened up to anybody fully in a very long time. It didn’t help that many of the things that were troubling him weren’t exactly “first meeting” discussion topics. He knew he had to be completely vulnerable, but figured it would be best to hold off on any topics related to the supernatural.

Instead, he did acknowledge that he was having many symptoms of depression. If he could find a way to cope mentally, at least clear his mind, he’d be in a better position to reclaim what was rightfully his.

He took a seat down on the couch and looked over at the therapist. She had a kind and welcoming expression that did put him at ease. Maybe he’d be able to make some progress with her after all. After he was seated, she took a seat across from him with a pad of paper. He appreciated the more personal approach, finding it very sterile and impersonal whenever a therapist or doctor just kept their eyes glued to a computer screen while he tried to ask them for help.

“So,” Marcus started, not wanting there to be too much silence in the interaction. He was paying by the hour after all. “Where should we start?”

“I’d just want you to get comfortable here, first.” That was how these things were supposed to start, anyhow. Xóchitl wasn’t going to be able to do a whole lot of good at giving people therapy if they wanted to run screaming from her office. She’d had enough personal experience with therapists, both good and bad, to know that much.

“Anything you want to tell me about why you’re here, if you’ve seen psychologists in the past, or anything like that. Think of it like… a conversation, of sorts.” Xóchitl winced internally at how cliched she felt as though she sounded. Even though she was fairly certain that it was a case of her being overly critical of herself, but still – being over-done on a first session was also not so good.

She wrote the date down on her notepad, before looking back up. “Also, feel free to call me whatever is most comfortable for you - you don’t need to stick with the ‘doctor’ thing if you don’t want, first name is fine, too.”

A conversation certainly sounded more pleasant than a therapy session. Even though Marcus knew that was what he was here for, it was nice to feel comfortable and open to talking about what was going on in his life.

“Well, first of all it’s nice to meet you, Xóchitl, and thank you for making me feel at home a little. I’ve never seen a psychologist or a therapist before, but usually my doctor visits are very ‘down to business’”, he said with a smile. He looked up at her and saw she was at full attention, maintaining eye contact.

“I guess the main reason why I’m here is to help manage symptoms of depression. The usual textbook stuff: difficulty focusing, lack of energy, overall depressed mood, no passion, yada yada yada,” he continued. He wanted to make her aware of what was going on, but still wanted to have a tough and rocky external attitude about it since that was the type of attitude expected of a military man. “It’s really starting to impact my life in a big way. I have important things to do, and I just can’t bring myself to do them at all. I’ve tried meditation and doing things I enjoy to clear my head. Only problem is, even the things that I enjoy are hard to do now. So I was wondering if you had any other advice to help get me out of this hole, so to speak”. It was definitely the most vulnerable he had been with someone since he left the ship. Nobody else in the town really knew what was going on with him, although he was sure his changes hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“It’s nice to meet you too, and oh - of course.” Xóchitl crossed her legs, perhaps in some sort of vague attempt to appear more professional - not that she didn’t think she already was, as-is, but it never hurt to add another layer of professionalism, all while making sure that she didn’t seem too aloof. All of that had to be possible. Even if it wasn’t, she’d make it so.

“I mean, you’re paying for this, and I want it to be your thing. I don’t think it’s very smart of a psychologist to force their beliefs on the people who are coming to see them.” She’d thrown at least one fit when her parents had taken her to a less-than-fabulous one back in Boston. Which Xóchitl figured was a warranted fit, because the woman hadn’t even had any toys in her office, and she was supposed to have worked with children.

“Of course.” Xóchitl’s expression softened as she forced herselfout of her thoughts of the past, and back into the present. She wasn’t going to help anybody if she just kept thinking all about her past and herself. Though she was acutely aware that perhaps sometime between Mackenzie dying and her getting her psych degree she’d stopped entirely hyperfocusing on the people around her (which made the possibility of losing them easier, maybe), she was aware enough to not focus on herself during sessions. After all, the less that people knew about her, the better. “I think talking about it would be the best place to start - to see the foundation of what you know and feel, and we can build up from there.” She let her gaze float off for a moment before she refocused. “Also, this is just the first meeting - we’re not going to figure everything out now, but we can start to work towards you feeling better about yourself. How’s that sound?”

Marcus supposed that made sense. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and no mind was fixed in an hour. Still, he was hoping to get some progress done today. He nodded understandingly at Xochitl and continued.

“Of course, therapy takes time, that’s what everybody always seems to say. I’m just new to this, so not really sure how any of it works.”

That was mostly true. He did have a previous experience with a navy psychologist who was also former military. However, the two of them hadn’t gotten along together very well. Their miracle cure for experiencing trauma and near death was to “take the experience as a new way to appreciate life”. Just drink the experience away and try to muffle the bad times with artificial and shallow good times. Surprisingly, that method didn’t seem to help much. And since then, Marcus had a bit of hesitation when it came to trusting future therapists.

“So, any questions you want to ask me to get started?”

“Well, if you were an expert in how it all worked, I might well be out of a job, so forgive me if I’m at least a bit pleased with the fact that you’re somewhat in the dark about all of this.” Xóchitl raised an eyebrow.

Questions to get started. She knew his name, knew a little bit about his job, but there was always more to find out about that, wasn’t there.

“I’d like to know why you chose your job - if that was something you’d been wanting since childhood, or if you somehow happened upon it… I find that knowing the whys when we can know them can lead us to help figuring out our other whys.” Xóchitl settled back against her chair. “I think a good many things are rooted in our pasts - or at least that’s what some textbooks say - but regardless, I find discussing that helps, and then we can figure out together if struggles are rooted in past, present, or somewhere in between.”

Marcus understood her desire to ask about why he chose his occupation, after all what someone chooses to do for a living can tell you a lot about who they are as a person.

“I chose the Navy because I felt a calling to serve my country. I’ve always loved the water, felt at home in it. So I figured the Navy was the best branch for me to enter into. As for why I chose to man the lighthouse once I got to town, it just seemed like a good fit.” Marcus glanced up to find the woman listening but not offering much of a reaction one way or another. He felt he was good at reading people, so somebody keeping a neutral expression to remain unreadable bothered him a bit. “I knew a lot about ships, relied on the assistance of lighthouses more than once. I’m a strong swimmer in case anybody needed rescuing, too. Plus, the position was available not long after I came to town, seemed like a no-brainer.”

Marcus felt that his childhood was very nice. He had a wealthy, he almost dared to say privileged, upbringing. His parents were very supportive of everything he wanted to do, even if that meant him risking death in foreign waters. They guided him along through his identity as a selkie, and gave him all of the best advice he could have asked for. If only he had taken that advice more seriously.

Instead, Marcus figured his problems are a mix of past and present. His present was messed up because of somebody from his past. Who is now back in his present. Was “the present” just right this minute, or the last few months? Because that’s when everything really started to go downhill.

“I’d say the problem is more rooted in the present, but who knows? Maybe it’s a combination of things”

“I don’t know if I’d call my love for the water something that I feel at home in, but that makes a lot of sense, then, to choose somewhere that you’d always feel sort of close to home, no matter where you were.” She offered him a slight smile, finally, before nodding about the lighthouse choice. “I’m not sure how much I believe in fate, but it seems as though perhaps you were meant to have that position at the lighthouse.” She couldn’t believe in fate too much, because that would’ve meant that her friend was fated to die, or something, and the thought of that was quite nearly unbearable. Xóchitl nodded. “Was it a steep learning curve? The lighthouse, I mean.”

Another nod, another attempt at a comforting smile in his next comment. “If things have only shifted more recently, then that’d make sense. Are you still enjoying your job at the lighthouse, or does it leave something to be desired, does it feel like you aren’t appreciated…” Xóchitl held up her hand, “I’m not being reductive when I ask that, just so you know, I am just trying to explore as many avenues and options as are possible.”

Marcus listened carefully to the woman in front of him, taking in what she had to say. Was it fate that he ended up working at a lighthouse? He remembered his youth, remembered the lighthouse by his old home used to be his favorite place to go. He even befriended the keeper of that lighthouse as well, who only showed him kindness. It could very well be that when he came to Wicked’s Rest he was pulled towards it in some way, but he wasn’t sure if he would call it fate. He didn’t really believe in that sort of thing.

“Not exactly. A lot of it is automated now so it’s mostly maintenance related duties. Thanks to my time in the military working on ships, I’m already pretty mechanically minded. Learning my duties came pretty naturally.”

He thought about his job at the lighthouse a bit more carefully. He was sure the ships and their captains were very thankful to him, but those people often weren’t the town’s residents. He had made a few friends in town, and had some very strange interactions with others. He was a bit irked that people kept greeting him with annoyance whenever he tried to stop somebody from littering on the beach. He considered keeping the beaches and their waters clean as part of his duties, and took it very seriously. Other than that, however, he really didn’t have any major complaints about his job.

“I think my job is great, I’m fine where I’m at. I guess it’s more that I’ve had a recent touch of heartbreak. There was this man that I knew, thought he was the love of my life. Turns out, major sociopath. And I don’t mean that in a casual sense, I mean you might be able to give him an actual diagnosis. So I’ve been struggling with that betrayal and the sense of cynicism it’s given me. I don’t know, the world just seems a lot more…gray now, if that makes sense?”

“Shows what I know,” she laughed, doing some sort of vague attempt to be somewhat self-deprecating, even if only barely. A little bit of something was better than nothing at all. “Well, sounds like you found a good place. Goodness knows I’m not the most mechanically minded. I think I can change a tire, if, like, pressured, but otherwise, not a strong suit.” Xóchitl offered him another hopefully reassuring smile.

“Oh. Yes, that does make a good deal of sense.” She pondered her words carefully. “Big events, if they’re romantic-linked or anything else, can easily have an effect on the way that we see the world. Sometimes in a positive way, and other times, not so much.” Xóchitl nodded. “Before, with him, things seemed more clear? Both personally and in your view of the world?”

Marcus gave a warm smile in return to his therapist remarking her lack of mechanical expertise. It wasn’t easy to understand a machine, and it definitely wasn’t easy to understand a piece of machinery as large as a massive ship or lighthouse. They did have their own engineers in the Navy, but emergencies happened and sometimes the rest of the crew needed to step up and understand how to do some of the more basic tasks needed. He was thankful that he could now learn how to fix anything and understand how it worked pretty quickly, unless it had anything to do with computers.

“I think it’s a bit more pervasive than that. Things were more clear, sure. But it was like I was living in a completely different reality. One where I was loved, where I was the most important thing in somebody’s life. Only to find out I was nothing more than a means to an end for him. Now, I guess you could say I’m lost.”

He was a bit surprised, he hadn’t meant to unload quite that much. But once he started talking he just sort of kept going. It was nice to be able to get it all out, but he was a bit embarrassed about being vulnerable with this woman he had only just met.

Marcus cleared his throat, and sat forward a bit. “Honestly, it’s mostly that as the issue. But it’s also just in general not feeling like myself anymore.”

She couldn’t help but wince at the comment about being a ‘means to an end.’ And to that, Xóchitl also offered him a compassionate, genuine smile. Nothing too big – and also nothing that was too patronizing – or at least so she hoped. She knew that therapy, as a whole, was something that could easily come off as patronizing and so she always made as much of an effort as was possible to not have that happen.

“Well, after that, I think I’d be more surprised if you weren’t lost.” She raised an eyebrow. “Though of all the ways to end up lost, realizing that you were someone’s means to an end is never ever a good way for that to happen.”

This didn’t seem like it would be a short partnership of therapy, that much she could already tell – and Xóchitl wasn’t opposed to that at all. It would have been a pretty terrible method of being a therapist if she only wanted short-term clients.

“Well, I can’t promise a cure because that’d be false advertising and I don’t believe in curing people, but I can promise that we’ll work through this, and that I have no intentions of leaving you hanging. Does that work for you as a deal? There’s nothing I need or want you to promise to me other than to try.”

The sympathy that the therapist was showing Marcus was very much appreciated, as she was the first person he had told everything to. The reassurance that he was the victim and hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve it was also welcome. As for not promising a cure, Marcus hadn’t expected that. The cure wouldn’t come until the problem itself went away, and he knew that would likely be some time still.

“I can absolutely try. Until I get better I won’t give anything other than my absolute best. This is something that’s very important to me.”

For the first time in a while, it felt as though Marcus had somebody in his corner. Sure he was paying her to be there, but felt genuine. After all, she must have gotten into this field because she wants to help people, so some degree of it must be her honest desire to help him out. Regardless, he needed an ally to sort through everything that had happened, and he was pleased to have finally found one.

#wickedswriting #c marcus #chatzy #writing #a seal seeks help #depression tw #// ty to tyler for writing this with me <3 love u and love marcus both sm

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kadavernagh · 7 months

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Washed Up || Marcus & Regan

TIMING: Current-ish LOCATION: The beach PARTIES: Marcus and Regan SUMMARY: Marcus does a good deed by pulling a dead body from the water, but Regan is there to question him about the strange circumstances.

Another quiet night, Marcus thought to himself. Normally a quiet night along the shore would be considered a good thing, but this town had taught him that quiet almost certainly means trouble. And trouble always seemed to find its way to Marcus one way or another. No ships out at sea right now, and there hadn’t been for a while. Marcus figured it may be a good time to do a quick patrol along the beach to look for any drowning swimmers.

As he slowly made his way down the steps in his long descent towards the beach, he could feel a knot start to form in his stomach. Usually drunk college kids liked to mess around on the beaches at night. While this on its own didn’t bother him, there was nothing wrong with having a little fun with your youth after all, alcohol and unpredictable ocean currents were never a good mix. He had saved six people from drowning since coming to this town, not including the strange pale woman from the pier.

At first he kept a calm walking pace, glancing out at the water to look for anybody who may need saving. His pace increased to a sprint when he found a mass floating about 20 feet from the shoreline. The curve of their back bobbed up and down over the waves, their head and feet must have been under the water. They weren’t moving. Fearing the worst, Marcus dove in without even removing his shoes, trying to pull the body back to shore as quickly as possible.

Leave it to Maine to have record temperatures on the year she was stuck in a winter coat. At least by the beach, it buffered her from the wind, and night lended a chill to the breeze. Plenty of people wore layers at the beach. She didn’t stick out too much, right? Did it matter? It was late, anyway. And why was she still chasing any form of normalcy? Forget it. Regan shuffled through the sand, letting her feet guide her. They rarely let her down, leading her straight toward the inevitable.

In the distance were two figures – a person in the intertidal zone standing by an inert lump, tide lapping at them both. Her skin prickled with thrilling, familiar death. And that lump she spotted was no small find. Not a gull nor a fish. Bigger. A seal, a dolphin, or maybe…

Regan’s feet picked up pace. When she saw what her body already knew was present, her eyes twinkled, and she took it all in. He was beautiful. Not the man – to her, he didn’t exist – but the body. Bloated, waterlogged flesh that had been picked clean in spots by ambitious fish. Eyes that had swollen and erupted out of his skull and long-disappeared down something’s gullet. Seaweed tangled in his remaining hair and draped across the drenched, tattered clothes as if claiming the body for itself. The man besides the body was, Regan supposed, also quite handsome, though it had taken her too long to really notice him.

“What’s this about?” She blinked, processing what was happening here. Perhaps she should have been more alarmed by the body. Even in this death-saturated town, people managed to be caught unawares. The man appeared stunned, though Regan couldn’t tell if it was because of the body or because he was seen by the body. But she didn’t need to give the decedent an examination to know it was not freshly-dumped. He was no killer. This seemed serendipitous. “Did you find this body?” Which raised more questions. The clothes were too wet and free of sand, the skin showing no evidence of gulls’ plundering, for this to be a beachcombing find. “Did you find this body in the water? How did you drag it out of the ocean?” Touching the body would have been unavoidable, unfortunately, though salt water was good at chafing away evidence by itself anyway.

Her walks always ended this way. Her hand dipped into her pocket and emerged with her ID. “I’m Dr. Kavanagh. I work at the Office of the Medical Examiner.” Though this probably seemed like a chance meeting to him, it was anything but. Regan didn’t subscribe to fate, and certainly not Fate, but death hooked her and reeled her toward whenever she needed to be. “You won’t be surprised to hear that I have some other questions for you. I think we have a few minutes before I have to alert my investigators, and I’d like to have you on your way as soon as possible.”

By the time Marcus had reached the man in the water, it was obvious he was beyond saving. Bloated, and partially decayed. Or had something been eating at him? He reminded himself of how terrifying the circle of life could really be. He didn’t fancy the idea of dragging this corpse to shore, but he figured the least he could do for the man was get him identified so that they could have a proper burial. He knew several former comrades of his who would have been grateful to have had the same courtesy extended to them.

When he reached the shore, he was greeted by an unwelcome sight. A woman was standing at the shoreline watching him, as well as the body he was carrying.

Shit.

Surely she wouldn’t think he had killed the man, right? She didn’t seem to be especially suspicious of him, she almost seemed curious. Also, in spite of it being a warm 78 degree night, she was dressed in a winter coat. Her first impression she left on Marcus was… curious to say the least.

She was questioning him, which couldn’t be a good thing. It would be pretty easy for Marcus to prove he had nothing to do with the poor man’s death, but he didn’t want to deal with the headaches of a police interrogation. While the people in this town didn’t generally seem to show many biases, he never had a good history with the police. Being implicated in a murder wouldn’t help his case in any way if it came down to it. He was relieved to hear she was a medical examiner. Surely she of all people could see the decomposition and know this couldn’t possibly be a fresh death.

“My name’s Marcus, Marcus Fremont. I tend to the lighthouse up that way” he said, gesturing towards Hanging Rock. “I also use down time on my shift to search for any swimmers that need help, lot of drunk college kids putting themselves in bad situations. Evidently, I found this guy way too late”, Marcus said, gesturing to the man’s body on the ground.

“It is… welcomed meeting you, Marcus Fremont.” Maybe not good, but welcomed, yes. His account of what happened was, at the least. Regan took in the nervous way he was holding himself. The way his feet shuffled in the sand and uncertainty in his voice. “Let’s get this out of the way. I am not assuming you have anything to do with the death.” But with that said… “However, if you did have something to do with it, I will find out, and you will not get away with it. I like to make myself clear.” She fished out a small spiral notebook and pencil from her bag. They weren’t official tools of the investigation but they were enough to capture Marcus’s ad hoc account, before she sent him off.

“Bodies are heavy, even in the water.” She leveled her gaze at him, though it was more studying than accusatory. “You must be quite practiced in pulling people to shore if you were able to do this. Where were you when you saw the body? And what did you see, exactly? Did you presume the body to be a live person?” She readied her pencil.

The woman’s cold demeanor wasn’t a relief to Marcus, but he was glad he wasn’t being implicated in the poor man’s death. He watched as she readied a pad and pencil and wondered why she would need to take some kind of eyewitness statement if she wasn’t a cop. Sure, she worked with the cops, but this part wasn’t her job was it? Shouldn’t she be calling a detective over or something?

“I used to be in the navy. Had to pull plenty of my shipmates out of troubled water, at least during training. Hard to do that kind of rescue on a real ship. And during those trainings we all were wearing 40-60 pounds of equipment on our body which, of course, would get waterlogged. In other words, this wasn’t much of a struggle for me.” Marcus explained, feeling proud that his strength had almost returned to him completely. If nothing else, he always had his athleticism to fall back on as a point of pride.

“I was probably about halfway down the shoreline between here and the lighthouse when I saw something floating. I couldn’t tell from that distance that he was already a lost cause, so I dove in to try and get to him as quickly as I could. Once I got closer, I realized he was well beyond saving. But that didn’t mean I was going to let his body become fish food”.

He glanced at the woman in front of him again, curiously. There was plenty that was off about this woman, and he had some questions of his own.

“Now, if you don’t mind. What are you doing out here so late? And I hate to be critical about people’s fashion and whatnot but, why are you wearing that big coat? It’s a pretty warm night, all things considered. Might have been why this guy decided to go for a swim.” He said, glancing at the body of the man again.

Marcus’s story was more than believable – Regan didn’t know very much about what went into training people in the Navy, but she figured any Navy Seal could probably pull the body of a full-grown human being from the water with relative ease. Probably even easier dead than alive. Regan knew from experience that those who drowned alive flailed and could easily drag others down with them. A shudder ran through her as she thought of her grandmother’s deceptively strong grip. Jotting down the details Marcus provided made for a worthy distraction. “It’s good you were around, then. I don’t know how I would have been able to pull him out.” Felt the body’s presence, certainly. But it would have become some tantalizing treat that she could not reach. “One last thing. Your contact information, please.” She readied her pen.

Regan eventually realized she was being studied back. “This is… official Medical Examiner garb.” Her stomach squeezed with the lie, but she did not allow herself to flinch. “Do not concern yourself with it. We need many pockets, you see.” Even though she’d pulled her notebook out of her bag, she closed it and inserted it into one of the pockets just to demonstrate a point. “Plenty of people walk the beach at night. I was going beachcombing.” Which was true, though the objects of her affection were not shells or sea glass. I can have an answer for everything, too, Regan thought, despite not finding Marcus particularly suspicious.

She shook her head at his speculation. “No, he died before tonight.” Though how far before was hard to say. Water changed decomposition, giving fewer clues to the post-mortem interval. But if the fish-bitten holes in his clothes and skin were anything to go off of, it had at least been a couple of days. She gave the cadaver a look of admiration, taking in the salt-shriveled flesh and clumps of remaining hair. “Once we identify him we may be able to gather information about when he was last seen alive, and where. Not my favorite method. Humans are unreliable.” She pulled a business card from a different pocket and handed it to him. “I expect you to contact me if anything else about this occurs to you. But perhaps there’s more to be said right now.” She raised a brow.

Marcus observed closely as the woman in front of him wrote down every detail of what he said. He had hoped he wouldn’t be called to testify as a witness of any trials that popped up in the future. He didn’t do well with informal questioning like what he was getting now, he fared even worse when being questioned in more official settings. It’s why he chose to live a life in secret while officially being presumed dead, it was much easier than having to come up with a believable excuse to go AWOL to the U.S Navy.

“I imagine you have a lot of tools of the trade. Magnifying glass, scalpel, gloves…” he trailed off, unable to remember anymore things he could imagine a medical examiner using. He knew what a doctor used and also figured a detective would want a magnifying glass. “Didn’t mean to make it feel like an interrogation”, he added, still not fully sure he wasn’t in one himself.

He gave the woman his contact information without any argument. He learned from an early age that the more he cooperated with the law, the better things will be for him overall, even if he didn’t particularly want to cooperate. He had hoped this night would be the end of his questioning and hoped even more that he wouldn’t be getting a call asking him to testify.

“Nothing else at the moment, I think we about covered it. Saw him floating, tried to save him, realized it was too late, dragged his body to shore. Didn’t know the guy, obviously, but felt he deserved a proper burial as most people do.” He paused to look at the man’s body again before returning his gaze to the strange woman in the big coat.

“I know people can be very unreliable with their stories, especially if it’s really been multiple days. But I really do hope you guys can figure out who this man was. Just so his family can get some closure”

His words hung heavy on his tongue, knowing that his own family didn’t even get the comfort of knowing he was alive until very recently.

“Rib spreader, bone saw, delightfully long needles…” Regan continued, enjoying the rise her equipment sometimes got out of people. “Your willingness to help is appreciated,” she said with a nod of her head, though she knew it was less of a willingness and more of an obligation. People didn’t tend to tell her much of anything until she showed her ID. Dr. Rickers probably didn’t have the same issue; Regan imagined most people just believed he was a medical examiner on the spot and opened up to him. Not only was he an exemplar of their occupation, he had this annoying quality that made others actually want to engage with him. Except for Regan. She was the only person with sense.

Pulling her phone from one of her many pockets – and shooting Marcus a glance that said see? Helpful – sent a text alert to her office, who would come down here with the police. There was little scene investigation to be had. The body had obviously been dumped and drifted this way from elsewhere. “I assume you can usually be found around here?” Regan asked him. She had his contact information, but that wasn’t the point she was getting at. “If you see anything, please inform my office. And if you see any choice animal carcasses, message me, personally. Got that?” Her voice lightened at the request – which for her, was as friendly as she got. “You have been fine to meet, Mr. Fremont. Memorable, at least. Most individuals don’t bring me bodies. Keep up the good work. If you would like to leave now before my office arrives, you may. You’re dismissed.”

Sometimes people really were good samaritans. But even though Regan didn’t think Marcus was at all responsible for this death, something told her this would not be the last she would see of him.

#writing #c marcus

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bad268 · 8 months

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Writing Inktober 2023

300 word minimum and no repeats are the challenges this year. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably. (haha yes)

BTW the medal emojis are the winners from the polls :)

01/10 Dream

Sebastian Montoya X Reader (W.C. 386)

02/10 Spiders

Seth Borden X Reader (W.C. 338)

03/10 Path

Max Verstappen X Reader (W.C. 367)

04/10 Dodge

Benny Rodriguez X Reader (W.C. 348)

05/10 Map

Sebastian Vettel X Reader (W.C. 338)

06/10 Golden

Justin Herbert X Reader (W.C. 342)

07/10 Drip

TMR Newt X Reader (W.C. 342) 🥈

08/10 Toad Sacrifice

Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader (W.C. 338)

09/10 Bounce

Marcus Armstrong X Reader (W.C. 384)

10/10 Fortune

Johnny Cade X Reader (W.C. 485) 🥉

11/10 Wander

Peter Parker X Reader (W.C. 402) 🥇

12/10 Spicey Scandal

Pierre Gasly X Reader (W.C. 391)

13/10 Rise Tonight

Colby Brock X Reader (W.C. 370)

14/10 Castle

Oscar Piastri X Reader (W.C. 370)

15/10 Dagger Nightmare

Lando Norris X Reader (W.C. 419)

16/10 Angel

Mick Schumacher X Reader (W.C. 395)

17/10 Demon

Kimi Raikkonen X Reader (W.C. 327)

18/10 Saddle

Daniel Ricciardo X Reader (W.C. 318)

19/10 Plump Wet

Ollie Bearman X Reader (W.C. 365)

20/10 Frost

Paul Aron X Reader (W.C. 389)

21/10 Chains Bouquet

Charles Leclerc X Reader (W.C. 369)

22/10 Scratchy Flight

Joe Burrow X Reader (W.C. 390)

23/10 Celestial Redeemer

Corpse Husband X Reader (W.C. 400)

24/10 Shallow Chosen

P! SBI X Reader (W.C. 358)

25/10 Dangerous

Callum Ilott X Reader (W.C. 310)

26/10 Remove Shots

Dennis Hauger X Reader (W.C. 348)

27/10 Beast

Christian Lundgaard X Reader (W.C. 339)

28/10 Sparkle

Dino Beganovic X Reader (W.C. 406)

29/10 Massive Approval

Felipe Drugovich X Reader (W.C. 358)

30/10 Rush

Clement Novalak X Reader (W.C. 386)

31/10 Fire

Pato O’Ward X Reader (W.C. 343)

Bonus: Break

Tadashi Hamada X Reader (W.C. 363)

Average W.C. 369

Want to read other years’ Inktober stories, check these out:

2021 // 2022 // 2024 (Coming Soon)

On a side note, I looked back at last year’s entries, and I definitely thought Bouquet was Banquet, so instead of admitting I was wrong, I did it as a sub this year. If you noticed, no you didn’t :)

Also funny story about Shallow, I kept reading it as Swallow, so I couldn't do it

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

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jeannepompadour · 5 months

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Portrait of Mary Rogers, Lady Harington by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger, 1592

#Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger #1592 #1590s #elizabethan era #16th century #mdp16th c.#britain #16th c. britain

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salome-c · 2 years

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Oscar Isaac and Marcus Mumford at the Beacon Theatre NY (November 7, 2022) (x x)

Taglist: @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @mypedrom @prettylilhalforc @princessxkenobi @mariesackler @dailyreverie @nowritingonthewall @mandelirious @zinzinina @nadja-antipaxos @einno-arko @mario-pratt

#i miss doing gifs about him like everyday #good old times #oscar isaac #oisaac #oscarisaac #oscarisaacedit #oscar isaac edit #oisaac gifset #marcus mumford #salome-c gifset #salome c gifset #userika

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elisedonut · 2 months

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thinking about that royalty Flintley au

Where Marcus is like a troll prince and kidnaps Percy because he just sees him and is smitten

ive thought about this on and off for like a year but here are some random thoughts

I think the first time Marcus sees him he is no where near where he's supposed to be like their marching for battle or something and get turned around or something like that and just coming to a river and there he is the most beautiful man he's ever seen (his second in command thinks he's insane btw). On their way back he intentionally finds the stream again and follows it until he sees Percy again.

And once he makes it home immediately talks to his parents about beginning the courting processes

in my head its a similar thing of mistaken courting like a shell for a mate but this time it's Marcus misunderstanding things and thinking hes doing such a good job courting this pretty common boy who may or may not be an elf(it switches back and forth between being a legit elf and just compared to one in my head)

Marcus is leaving him gifts for months before attempting to take him away which in this case is custom in his kingdom

leaving enough food for his family every week or so for months and leaving pretty but practical things where Percy can find them (weapons clothes stuff of that nature) To show that he can provide for him but staying hidden because part of it is showing your a good enough warrior not to get caught. Getting caught leaving gifts means your not good enough.

And Percy keeps accepting these things or at least seeming too from Marcus' perspective because obviously if you can't find the owner of something in the woods well that means it's yours now right?

The first time Marcus leaves food for him though it fails big time though because he starts with already prepared things that make the Weasleys skeptical about it for obvious reasons(of the is that even safe to eat kind of variety) which Marcus then interprets as Percy taking offense to the notion that he cant like hunt for himself and such and so leads to Marcus instead leaving like living animals instead like a full fist net still set up in the water right where Percy typically fishes

anyway

so then after a few months of this Marcus actually nabs him and is a little pissed that his family didn't put up much of a fight because they should have known this was about to happen and just letting Percy go off on his own still is pretty disrespectful to him in his opinion because from Marcus' pov that comes across like they don't care who he marries and like yeah he's the Prince but in theory they don't know that

but they don't know that but they also don't realize that all the weird luck happening recently had been a courting ritual (or maybe they do but guessed wrong on the person being courted??)

So yeah Percy is pissed at being kidnapped but cant just leave because the King and Queen would rather him be dead then let him from there perspective back out of their marriage so he's kinda stuck

and that's all i got

it works out in the end because they just like get to know one another and stuff idk but its a fun concept imo!

#percy weasley #marcus flint #flintley #coming up with weird like societies is very fun imo but courting is especially fun to think about #maybe also omegaverse just for drama sake but specifically Alpha!Percy/Omega!Marcus because its the most fun in this scenario imo #if so though then Marcus being an Omega is a secret and another part why the king and queen refuse to let Percy leave #The Weasleys live in a cabin in the woods near a stream in this c:

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myteaplace · 1 year

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Ophelia, Marcus C. Stone (1840-1921)

#ophelia #marcus c stone #british artist

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peasantexchangeprogram · 6 days

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🎁!

send me a present emoji 🎁 and i’ll respond with a random out of context image i have on my computer

#asks #pinknoisemp3 #i am literally obsessed w this painting i think its so so ugly im sorry #like bar said it looks like a modern day political caricature #< its an 'authors painting' of st marcus in a 9th c. illuminated manuscript

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marcusrobertobaq · 10 days

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Who the fuck is CONNER? Y'all punks drunk?

#this is giving me markus with a c vibes. i'm marcus with a c #dbh #detroit become human

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void-botanist · 19 days

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let’s start with 1-5 for all the polycules! -@vacantgodling

This is gonna be a long one lol. But first, a little note on these polycules for those who don't know: they're legally mandated for the royal family (Kiatcarmen, Marcus, and Minaya) and have at least one of each sapient species in them. That's why Jimmy was replaced in Kiatcarmen's polycule when he died, whereas in an organic polycule, that likely would not happen.

1 - How many members are in the polycule? How are they related to each other? Feel free to draw a flow chart.

Kiatcarmen: there have only ever been five at one time. But those members have shifted twice, when existing members died. Kiatcarmen and Ashmalo are Marcus and Minaya's parents.

First set of members:

Second set of members:

Third (current) set of members:

Marcus: seven, technically. It remains to be seen whether Heith will stick around. With the exception of Heith, it's safe to assume they're all friends. Gren only knows OF Heith, since Marcus met her on another planet. Yera and Hossan recently had a baby. Also they don't actually have non-cow ears I just couldn't rally myself to make updated picrews for this post.

Minaya: six, all pretty much friends. Dawn is currently pregnant with Arbores's baby. Lanya is permanently annoyed with Arbores because his state of being is sort of to just disappear into the woods and not engage that much with the administrative/royalty things he, Minaya, and Dawn manage.

This isn't all the existent relationships in these polycules but it is all the most notable ones.

2 - Did the relationship start polyamorous, or was it a monogamous relationship that eventually opened?

All three of these started as technically polyamorous relationships, though they grew little by little. But if you look past the legal requirement it's a little more complicated. Kiatcarmen's polycule has always been a mess, and to be honest she would have been just fine having just Jimmy.

Yera and Hossan in Marcus's polycule started out as a functionally closed couple within the whole (they don't actually restrict each other to this but that was how it was anyway) but a couple years in, Marcus married Gren and Gren became besties with Yera. Over time this morphed into Gren being their third partner, but Gren is still very mobile between the different members and divisions of the polycule.

Minaya's polycule, once completed, was functionally three parallel couples (Minaya and Lanya, Dawn and Arbores, and Lucy and Ramona) until Ramona fessed up about her crush on Lanya and those two couples merged into something like a quad.

3 - If it started monogamous, how did the process of opening the relationship go?

Marcus: for a while it wasn't clear whether Yera and Hossan's relationship was going to open - maybe Yera just had a new fuckbuddy. But Gren and Hossan spent a lot of time together incidentally, and Gren also wanted to be friends with him too, and over time Gren just sort of got absorbed into their dynamic. There was a little jealousy they had to work out (Hossan was very used to being Yera's singular obsession), and there was a conversation at some point, though, when Hossan realized that he no longer thought of Gren as a separate external addition. He still doesn't think of himself as polyam but considers Gren in the same breath as Yera.

Minaya: opening her and Lanya's relationship felt easy. For a while, though, it was pretty much just sexual. That was easiest for everybody, especially with Lucy and Ramona being away for training and competition a lot. But over time it's developed into a more romantic dynamic, which has been fairly smooth, despite Lucy's defensiveness and Lanya's counter-defensiveness. There is some uncertainty about how things will change once Minaya ascends the throne, though.

4 - Are there any mono-poly relationships in the polycule?

Kiatcarmen: sort of. Despite having a sexual and quasi-romantic relationship with Pirianus the only person she's ever considered her partner is Jimmy, so in essence she has always been the monogamous person connected to her own polycule through her very popular spouse.

Marcus: no, but only because Heith isn't monogamous.

Minaya: Lucy teeters on the edge here. She's never outright decided she's monogamous, but she also doesn't have a lot of patience for maintaining multiple romantic partnerships.

5 - What “shape” is the polycule? A triad, a “V”, a straight line of metamours, or incomprehensible?

Kiatcarmen: currently, a cul-de-sac. Kiatcarmen only considers Pirianus anything close to a partner, Pirianus has complicated relationships with her and Thade, and Thade, Caladea, and Orvi are all just vibing with each other. In other words: almost entirely metamours and meta-metamours from Kiatcarmen's perspective, and something resembling a cohesive whole from Thade's.

Marcus: in Marcus's absence, it became kind of a bow tie, with Gren in the middle between Yera & Hossan and Umedes & Pali, and Marcus and Heith as a separate island. Upon his return, it expands into more of an anglerfish - Gren is still the point of connection between Yera & Hossan and Umedes & Pali, but Marcus has joined Umedes and Pali, and also has a connection to Heith.

Minaya: it's more or less a quad (Minaya, Lanya, Ramona, Lucy) with an orbiting couple (Dawn and Arbores).

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