the-archive-stray

[the-archive-stray]

as marcus let's go of it's hand, he cocks his head to the side and for a moment it's almost like he's trying to pick amelie apart. like one would trying to mentally pick out flavour notes in a seasoning

he starts to ask something but stops himself, instead almost matching its smile saying,

"thanks, ill keep it in mind! i'll probably still be 'round so if you spot me i'm always open for a chat,"

somewhere in the depths of the archive at the magnus institute, marcus sits on a desk slouched with his legs crossed under him, an old black weathered leather jacket and patched purple scarf draped over the chair in front of him, manuella folder in one hand, and a old beaten up zippo in the other.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting clip.*

he flicks the lighter open and closed as his eyes scan the page. he was never a fast reader, and having to stop to jot down notes wasn't helping.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting.*

he stops for a moment, something shifting in the room. he finishes the sentence before looking up and clipping the lighter shut.

"hello? . . . i know someone's there... can i help you?"

[the-archive-stray]

marcus scoots himself to the edge of the table

"nice to meet you, amelie,"

he takes amelie's hand to shake, and almost immediately you could see the gears turning behind his eyes

"always fun to meet a new face"

somewhere in the depths of the archive at the magnus institute, marcus sits on a desk slouched with his legs crossed under him, an old black weathered leather jacket and patched purple scarf draped over the chair in front of him, manuella folder in one hand, and a old beaten up zippo in the other.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting clip.*

he flicks the lighter open and closed as his eyes scan the page. he was never a fast reader, and having to stop to jot down notes wasn't helping.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting.*

he stops for a moment, something shifting in the room. he finishes the sentence before looking up and clipping the lighter shut.

"hello? . . . i know someone's there... can i help you?"

[the-archive-stray]

"can't have it, but i do go by marcus"

there's a bit of a playful tone to his words as he returns the smile while giving a small nod of thanks

"i haven't seen you around either, what do you go by?"

somewhere in the depths of the archive at the magnus institute, marcus sits on a desk slouched with his legs crossed under him, an old black weathered leather jacket and patched purple scarf draped over the chair in front of him, manuella folder in one hand, and a old beaten up zippo in the other.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting clip.*

he flicks the lighter open and closed as his eyes scan the page. he was never a fast reader, and having to stop to jot down notes wasn't helping.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting.*

he stops for a moment, something shifting in the room. he finishes the sentence before looking up and clipping the lighter shut.

"hello? . . . i know someone's there... can i help you?"

[the-archive-stray]

marcus tilts his head curiously at the person, staring almost like he's trying to piece something together.

he sits there staring for a beat longer before finally snapping out of it,

"yea that was me askin . . . sorry, you can set em here,"

he pats the desk next to him, placing the folder to the side

somewhere in the depths of the archive at the magnus institute, marcus sits on a desk slouched with his legs crossed under him, an old black weathered leather jacket and patched purple scarf draped over the chair in front of him, manuella folder in one hand, and a old beaten up zippo in the other.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting clip.*

he flicks the lighter open and closed as his eyes scan the page. he was never a fast reader, and having to stop to jot down notes wasn't helping.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting.*

he stops for a moment, something shifting in the room. he finishes the sentence before looking up and clipping the lighter shut.

"hello? . . . i know someone's there... can i help you?"

[the-archive-stray]

somewhere in the depths of the archive at the magnus institute, marcus sits on a desk slouched with his legs crossed under him, an old black weathered leather jacket and patched purple scarf draped over the chair in front of him, manuella folder in one hand, and a old beaten up zippo in the other.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting clip.*

he flicks the lighter open and closed as his eyes scan the page. he was never a fast reader, and having to stop to jot down notes wasn't helping.

*ting clip. ting clip. ting.*

he stops for a moment, something shifting in the room. he finishes the sentence before looking up and clipping the lighter shut.

"hello? . . . i know someone's there... can i help you?"

[the-archive-stray]

• ~~~ • ~~~ • ~~~ •

- info -

((ooc: hello! i'm attic/neon/marcus, i'm 23, and i'm a non-cannon tma kinnie who's just wanting to throw myself into source stuff!

while yes, i was gerard's brother in my cannon, i will not push that onto anyone who interacts as gerard, same goes for any of the archive crew. unless specified that you are ok with it, i will not push anything like that.

general rule of thumb for me is just keep it generally sfw.

that's all! have fun!))

• ~~~ • ~~~ • ~~~ •

- Character sheet -

Name: Marcus Keay

Nickname: Dasher (given to him by Tim but it might as well be his name now)

Pronouns: He/They

Fear alignment: Desolation (with ties to The Eye via being around The Magnus Institute and The End via Marry Keay)

• ~~~ • ~~~ • ~~~ •

- Tags -

#blindspot rp (for general rp)

#blindspot speaks (for answering asks)

#blindspot tapes (reblogging from the original account followed by #blindspot [year] )

#marcus and [character] (just to better organise who i interact with in character)