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Filipino artist, Gregory Halili, carves intricate skulls into mother of pearl shells.
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Marcy could practically feel the swirled emotions coming off of Marian: joy, pride, and love. She was coming to learn that Marian was the sort to wear her emotions on her sleeve; she didn't hide how she felt. Marcy imagined that must have been one of the things that made The Unholy God love her. She was always herself and a delicate human standing her ground to a god must have been something to experience.
"I can do that, yeah!" Marcy beamed, excited that Marian wanted more than just one piece of her art. In her head, she imagined Marian taking the sticker of the chibi Dark Lord and putting it on the back of her phone case. She could practically see her grinning over it when paperwork ran long and tedious; all-the-while imagining her husband. All who came to know the Dark Lord personally knew that, when he fussed and pouted, it was done from a place of love rather than irritation. His grumpiness, over time, became endearing.
At the question of how long she had been drawing, Marcy continued her grin, her elbows propped on the table and her head leaning against one forearm. However, she unconsciously brought her right hand up to stroke at the burn scar on the back of her neck. The mark covered the back of her neck and part of her right shoulder and it had become such a nervous habit to touch it that she wasn't always aware that she did so. As her middle finger gently stroked the raised skin, the smile on her face lingered.
"Since always, I think." She smiled wider. "My mom taught me. As far back as I can remember, I remember us drawing together. We would sit in the common room at the temple and she would show me how to make shapes and different lines. She was always really encouraging. She died when I was eight. In the temple fire. But I feel like drawing keeps her alive in some way. You declared that we are collective and I know the Great Collette interpreted that to mean we are responsible for each other but I also think collective means our souls live in houses made of each other. Sorta like Russian Nesting Dolls, ya know? I have my mom's smile and my mom's love of art so she lives in me forever that way."
Marcy stopped stroking her scar and, instead, reached for her mug of tea. Her first time tasting this particular blend her mind registered that Lord De Beaumont must have made this particular one for Marian and Marian alone. The thought warmed her in a way she couldn't exactly explain.
"Do you have any hobbies? I know you enjoy reading; I mean, obviously." she waved towards the living room and the books scattered about and giggled. "But what about sewing? Or baking? I bet you make the best cookies."
Marian struggled not to laugh just a bit when she saw Marcy scramble to take a few bites of chili and grab her notebooks. Bringing the mugs of tea over to the table she had to wonder in Cassius knew just now much Marcy seemed to admire him. From the small plushie, to her owning the same kind of leather book, to the worries she had shared earlier, all made her wonder. This was soon put to the back of her mind though as Marcy began showing her work and a gleeful smile quickly grew.
These were wonderful! As soon as she saw the skeleton in the suit Marian knew that had been inspired by Cassius. And then when Marcy explained that the next one was of Collins she gave a laugh along with Marcy.
The more she learned of that man the more it was no wonder that Chris was swept up by him.
The sketch of Marcy with the teddy and gazing out eyeless was so far one of her favorites. Marian wondered if that one would be one Marcy would be comfortable making into an art piece for her office. As well as the chibi of her husband into a sticker! The back of her phone case would be a perfect spot for that.
Then upon seeing the Grease praying mantis' Marian was unable to stop the snort of laughter. Chris would adore that one too if he were here she was sure of it. Taking a sip of her tea Marian smiled around her mug seeing the very much Asim like wolf.
The next two pictures of Cassius and her though had her placing her mug back down. Seeing Cassius drawn in his godly form reminded her of him showing it to her in the tea garden. That was how it should have been the first time around, but at least they were here with each other now. When shown herself on the next page only made her absolutely sure that this one was another that she might request for her office.
Marcy was absolutely amazing.
"Oh don't you dare apologize! These are wonderful. And if they only get better from here then i think they are terribly special indeed. I would love it if you would create something for the office! And maybe in addition the one of little Cassius demanding his tea made into a sticker if possible?"
What Marcy said about not knowing what she looked like popped back into her thoughts though. Did Marcy mean she didn't know what her godly form looked like? Or did she by chance draw that before they had met in person and that she didn't know either form? Marian wasn't quite sure.
"When did you start drawing if you don't mind my asking? Art is not really my domain, but i can draw a stick-figure with the best of them."
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Happy Halloween!
Ah, yes, Halloween. As Karen Fortunati said, When The world turns upside down--in a good way--for one black velvet night. To you as well.
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Marian thought her company was an absolute joy! Marcy hadn't any idea she could feel both like jumping for joy and melting into a puddle of contentment. This was possibly one of the greatest feelings in the whole world. It ranked right up there with the time Lord De Beaumont had hugged her after a particularly bad day at the office. He had whispered he was very proud of her. Compliments from Lord De Beaumont were very rare and so she had known at the time he meant what he said. And while she did not get the feeling compliments were rare from Marian, she did feel as if they were very heartfelt and that was equally as wonderful.
But when Marian agreed to see her work, even suggesting that, perhaps her art could go in her office, energy unlike anything she had felt all day raced through her veins. Marcy quickly shoved two spoonfuls of chili into her mouth before making a scramble for her purse. The Prada bag sat on the table beside her but was quickly pulled down into her lap and shuffled through. The bag being particularly full and unorganized, items were placed on the table as she searched.
A bottle of peach juice was placed on the table as well as her phone charger, a small work tablet, and a black stuffed animal with a white skull face. It was roughly in the shape of a very fat wendigo--obviously meant to be a child's version of The Unholy God. Once it had been moved out of the way, the black worn leather of her travelers notebook was visible and the book quickly retrieved. Everything else was unceremoniously shoved back into her bag.
"Here it is! See, I have one just like Lord De Beaumont! Well, his is brown leather and very old but the premise is the same." Opening her book, four travelers notebook were slipped into the binding. "I have a book for work stuff, ancient languages, temple work, and my personal thoughts. I sorta doodle on the pages."
Turning the book so that it faced Marian, she popped an olive in her mouth and leaned forward to flip through some pages.
Marcy's art style was like if someone had taken the art from the original 101 Dalmations and had opted to make it darker, more traditionally gothic, but just as sketchy and elongated. Her topics, however, were ranged.
On one page of notes from a particularly boring meeting was a tall man in a suit, his skeletol hands coming up to adjust his tie, his head a stag skull with broken antlers.
Another page showed a man in a chair, head leaning back over one arm while his legs draped over the other. His arms were dramatically raised and a word bubble declared him sing/yelling "Yonkers!" The character appeared both effiminent and dramatic.
"That's Mr. Collins." Marcy laughed awkwardly, having forgot she drew that one. "He's obsessed with Hello Dolly."
Still, other pages showed small doodles. One of herself, her empty eyes drawn large and mismatched in circular size with curly hair exaggerated to large proportions. She had drawn herself in long dress, barefoot, and holding a headless teddy bear in one hand.
Another page showed a chibi version of Khaugesus, body fat and black with a skeletol tail and screaming stag head declaring "where's my tea!?"
Yet another page was a complete change of direction, not done at work, as a group of praying mantis sat around a table singing "Tell me more, tell me more, did you bite off his head?"
On another page was a grinning wolf face and, although just a simple character sketch, the emotion was that of an absolute skallywag; a complete likeness of Asim.
"I drew you too though!" Flipping to her book on temple work, her doodles were more refined. Beside words declaring spiritual thought was a version of Cassius more realistic to his godly form and less cartoony. He stretched long and curled along the page, reaching his hand out towards something not drawn. The page next to it was Marian doing the same. She was human in form, hair raised and curling as if she were in water. A Victorian dress covered her form and her hand also reached out. The effect was as if the two were Ying and Yang.
"I'm sorry I don't have much. I haven't known you as long physically so I wasn't sure what you looked like....And I mostly draw at work when I have down time. They're just doodles...nothing too terribly special....I have better ones in my sketchbook at the condo. If you still want me to make something for your office, I promise it will look a lot better than these."
Marian could say for certainty that she hadn't ever heard a prayer of thanks like that said in front of her. It was both a bit sweet and surprising at first. Logically she knew now that there was a whole following that worshiped her. But it threw her off for a split second while putting the kettle on the stove to hear it right in front of her.
Listening to the story she told of the Mc Donald glass had brought a smile to her face, and made her take mental note that if she ever came across one of those glasses to snag it quick.
She had never seen any of their temples now that she thought of it. Chris had mentioned that he had visited one of their buildings while she had been away in France, but she herself hadn't visited yet. There was also the one in Cadenworth that she knew of, but that one would hold rather bittersweet memories Marian imagined.
Using the tea pot Cassius had gifted her she turned her head back as Marcy thanked her again and smiled. Instinctively she went to say that Marcy didn't have to give her anything. But then Marian reminded herself that she promised Cassius to be more receptive to gifts.
'Having you here is an absolute joy, so i should be thanking you back. But if you wanted to draw something i would be more than happy to see your work if you're comfortable sharing anything!"
A thought came to mind.
"Oh! Actually now that i think of it, i'm going to be applying for a position at Brendles here soon. Cassius is eager to have me on staff, we just need the votes from the other board members and all. I've already met them and i don't imagine it'll be hard to get them. Which means i would have an office there in the building. Perhaps you could create some art for it? I imagine i won't be taking much of anything in my current one over at the library, so i'll have plenty of wall space to fill up. Would that be something you would be interested in doing?"
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"Oh, yes, please." Marcy beamed, gently setting down her cup to be used. It was odd being physically taken care of by a deity. Usually she was the one fetching tea or ensuring time was set aside for a meal. Having someone divine see to it for her left her feeling as if she was hovering and, to combat this, she made her way to the table with her food.
After sitting, Marcy opened the brown bag that contained a takeout container of vegetarian chili and a separate container of black olives. After opening them, she closed her eyes, bowed her head, and clasped her hands in prayer.
"I receive this food in gratitude to all beings who have helped to bring it to my table, and vow to respond in turn to those in need with wisdom and compassion. May the Merciful Wife guide us and the Dark Lord protect us. In Their name and grace, so be it."
Finished with grace, Marcy set about ripping the plastic from her utensils and looking over at Marian with a smile. "When I was little, I lived in Temple housing with my mom and all the plates and cups were mismatched there as well. They were just random donations collected over time but I had this one very favorite cup that was one of those vintage McDonald's cups. You know, the ones they sold forever ago that were limited edition? Well, this one had some sort of mayor guy on it but his head was a hamburger. I was completely obsessed with how weird he looked and whenever it was meal time, I always hoped I would get that cup." Marcy took a bite of her food and, without thinking, tucked her food into her cheek and continued speaking. "Mayor McCheese."
She swallowed.
"Thank you for the tea. And dinner. And having me over. And listening to me. I know I said all that already but, I dunno, I just wish there was something more I could say than just thank you. I'm not great with words but I can draw pretty okay. I could draw you a picture as an offering or something."
Maybe some could argue that it was a bit selfish or her, but Marian was adoring it more and more when she heard Marcy giggle and smile. And felt a small sense of pride when she announced that her home was the most wonderful. She knew it wasn't the biggest or grandest.
But if anything she always wanted people to feel comfortable and at home here.
"You're very welcome, and welcomed to come over again anytime you feel like you need a bit of a break. I truly mean that. While Cassius and the others have their strengths, it can be nice to just have a little one on one girl time in my own opinion. Worst case scenario you would have to deal with a cat on your lap"
Taking a moment to stand, brush her hands together to get rid of any cat hair, Marian thought over what drink she would like herself before deciding on some of the tea blend Cass had made for her. Reaching into the cupboard she grabbed one that was a dark green clay mug with red roses on it and set to brewing. Admittedly this one was one of her favorites. She had found it by chance at a thrift store and knew in an instant if she left it behind she would regret it for a very long time. It had a nice weight to it too that felt comforting at times.
"Admittedly the mugs started out because of that one there that's designed to look like a ball of yarn. When i first moved in i had a matching set. But between a certain cat that likes to push things off table edges, and the set chipping rather easily, i was getting a bit put off by it.
Then Chris brought me that one as a souvenir and it grew from there ever since. It feels rather nice to not have to worry if i have a full matching set or not. That and it always makes me smile or laugh a bit when i get to see peoples' first reaction to seeing them. Also if one of them happens to break, then worst thing is i might miss that particular one for a bit. I also have a big soft spot for puns."
For a small moment Marian wondered if Cass would mind or be upset if she was to offer the tea he had made specifically for her. But then again if there was anyone she could think of that he would be okay with sharing, she felt he would be okay with that person being Marcy. Plus it was her tea. If she wanted to share she could very well do so.
"Would you like some tea as well? Since i'm making myself a cup."
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"Oh wow!" Were the first words out of Marcy's mouth. They were followed by "Gosh! I can't even!"
Her eyes scanning over Marian's home were as wide as her smile as she eagerly took in everything within. It wasn't that the home was particularly grand. On the contrary, the appearance was rather ordinary compared to the other homes she had been in. But that was what was wonderful about it. It wasn't stuffy, it wasn't polished and grand and it didn't scream 'look at all I possess.' No, instead it was lived in and loved and so comfortable it could have been the house equivalent of fuzzy slippers and a snuggly blanket on a rainy day.
As she took off her shoes, she noted a pair of Lord De Beaumonts sneakers. The ones he wore when gardening. It was so odd to see them set by the door as he had certainly never done that at the Country Home or the office....There was something about the sight that felt more domesticated and almost funny and caused Marcy to offer a softly amused 'hmm.'
Once her shoes were off, she followed Marian into the kitchen, eyes darting over ever available surface to take in the details. Every homey touch from the bread box to the tea pot was adored absolutely. She loved it here. It felt easier to breathe here. The very atmosphere of the home felt the way her mother's hugs had felt. It was something she couldn't explain but also knew she didn't want to.
"Oh, I'm not allergic." Marcy smiled, ignoring the way the action pulled on her stitches. "I've never been around cats much before. Lord De Beaumont didn't allow pets other than the geese and those just sorta showed up one day and never left." She began to make her way to the cupboard that contained the cups. "There was a stray cat that hung around near the temple. It was nice and the priestess would-- No way!"
Once the cupboard door was open and the mugs visible, Marcy erupted into delighted giggles. None of them matched! Not a one!
She couldn't explain why it was funny to her without going into detail about her life with Lord De Beaumont. He detested when things didn't coordinate and the thought of him selecting a novelty mug for his morning tea was like hilarious irony. Marcy took a moment to glance over the mugs: one shaped like a cookie and another with pumpkin at the dentist. When her eyes landed on one--gray and decorated with tombstones--that proclaimed 'not a mourning person,' she had no doubt The Dark Lord selected that one more than others.
"Marian," Marcy gently announced while grabbing a cup decorated like Chip from Beauty and the Beast, "your home is the most wonderful place I've ever been. Thank you for inviting me over."
Marian so very much wanted to pull over and pull this girl into a hug. She knew she was probably not the first to think how wonderful Marcy was. She had been through so much lately, and had been keeping all this inside. Poor thing deserved a break, and something sweet to nibble on. At the request Marian gave a nod and steered towards the entrance of the drive thru.
"Of course dear. Anything else with it? My treat."
Once at her home Marian made sure the bag of food was well secure in her arm before unlocking her door and letting Marcy in, following behind her and toeing off her shoes. Looking over she would see a certain black and white tail poking out from underneath the couch and slowly swaying back and forth. Of course he was still pouting. Marian knew he would get over it soon though, especially if there was someone here he could gain attention from.
"If you wouldn't mind terribly leaving your shoes at the door dear, thank you. Do you have any preference in drinks? I have teas, coffee, hot chocolate, and juices if you would like anything. Cups are in the cupboard above the sink so please help yourself." she offered as she toed off her own shoes.
In the kitchen Marian placed the food on the kitchen table and set to getting Frankie some dinner as well. Who, at the sound of the can opener going, soon came running and meowing into the kitchen. Whenever he got his claws trimmed Marian used the treat of wet food instead of his normal dry to 'make amends'. Kneeling down to place his bowl in front of him Marian gave him a few pets before turning to Marcy.
"I hope you're not allergic to cats by the way. If you are i do have allergy pills in the bathroom."
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The holy texts proclaimed the Merciful Wife would return when the world was worthy of her. In this moment, Marcy felt she understood why. How could someone be so good? How could someone know all the right things to say and say them so easily? In her time among the gods, Marcy had come to know them as divine beings, yes, but also as entitled ones. As much as she adored The Dark Lord, she still knew him as a very materialistic and short tempered man. He would proclaim he wasn't but his pen cost nine hundred dollars so there was a bit of denial there.
But Marian was...she was different. Every situation Marcy had been with her had shown she was the sort to think of others before herself. Marcy wasn't certain if it was because The Merciful Wife was both human and divine or if it was for some other reason altogether but she did know she appreciated it.
Feeling her eyes well, Marcy fanned her face with her free hand in an effort to keep from crying.
"I apologize. I just..." She cleared her throat. "Thank you."
Seeing the sign for McGregor's Deli looming on the street ahead, she decided to focus on that rather than the current conversation. "Um, if we could go through the drive through? I'm not really comfortable showing my nose in public yet." She became very aware of her facial mask and anxiously scratched an itch along it's edge. "Their vegetarian chili is really good...If you could ask for a side of black olives, I would really appreciate it."
For a moment Marian thought about mentioning how hospitals were overwhelming at times, especially with the tugging, but decided to keep that thought to herself. What followed though as Marcy answered her question though caused a different kind of tugging at her heart. As Marcy unloaded all of the worries and stress that had probably been building for a while Marian made sure to glance over whenever she could safely look away from the road.
By the time Marcy finished she had pulled to a stop at a red light. Reaching over she gave the girl's hand a soft squeeze and a gentle smile.
"Don't apologize. A lot of people seem to forget now a days just now helpful it is to simply vent to a willing ear. And besides, didn't i once say that we shouldn't be afraid to question things even to the gods?" she said before the light changed and she turned into the parking lot of the restaurant.
"If it makes you feel any better, i hate asparagus. Silly thing i know but i despise it. The taste, the texture, the smell, everything about it. Hated it as a mortal, and hate it now as a goddess. Hate is natural a part of our lives regardless of who we are or what it's caused by."
Marian also hated a few people, but the reasons why were not appropriate for Marcy right now.
"As for Cassius... i can very much tell you mean a great deal to him, much more than whatever tasks you can do for him. Even if he doesn't say it, despite how long winded he can be at times, he cares a lot for you. And while i haven't met Mr. Watson yet, but i know for a fact that that he would never replace you with Watson. You mean so much more than what you can do for others. And you have been so absolutely brave though all of this. Cassius is right when he says you need rest, and that isn't going to be easy at times. But avoiding what you need to heal is only going to cause more harm. For now though when these kind of moments come, where it feels too much, just know that you have us, Collins, and Asim in your corner. Hell i would even throw in my brother despite him only meeting you a few times. He's got a little girl of his own so he's well versed in bringing a smile about."
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A tug pulling her in the correct direction....that made sense. Marcy had--what Collins called--a gift of foresight. It wasn't all the time but a very good percentage. She would just predict what would need to be done and do it without being asked. Lord De Beaumont had simply told her she was very competent but Collins had always 'joked' of stealing her away as his own assistant. She knew that joke held a certain amount of truth but she also knew she would never be happy away from The Dark Lord.
"That makes sense." Marcy replied thoughtfully. "I imagine being like Delores would be terrible. Hearing everything....I bet even whispers would sound like screaming." She tisked her tongue. "I bet hospitals and funerals would suck..."
At the question of adjustment to leisure, Marcy sighed heavily and sunk a bit in her seat. She debated putting on a brave face and promising everything was fine but lying to a goddess seemed like bad karma waiting to happen. Especially since being truthful was held in such high esteem in her religion.
"I'm not adjusting well." She admitted. "I'm trying. I really am but I'm not. I miss the country house because it was my first home after my mom died but I also hate it because of what happened to me. And I can't forget what happened....it's just....always in my head and it plays when I'm sleeping. I thought I would just work and study and stuff and I would be too tired to dream but Lord De Beaumont won't let me. He says I need to rest but resting means I have nothing to do...I've always worked. Ever since he started fostering me he gave me things to do and so I've started associating my tasks with evidence of fondness and if he doesn't need me does that mean he doesn't want me? And so I'm dealing with that and I'm getting messages from Mr. Watson asking about things and I hate him. I know we aren't suppose to hate but I do. I don't know why but I do. He's just awful. Have you met him yet? If not, you'll know what I mean when you do. Or maybe you won't and this is all in my head because of my own jealousy."
By the end of her rant, Marcy felt out of breath and it was now she realized how much she divulged. She was never like this around Lord De Beaumont...Was this the pull Marian mentioned? That some people were more receptive? If that was the case, Marian had just pulled a trunk load of emotional baggage out of her in one question.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't doubt his plan for me..." Marcy looked down at her lap and wrung her thumb. "There is no light without some darkness, I guess."
Seeing Marcy smile so brightly and eagerly hop into the passenger side brought a warm feeling to Marian's chest. Waiting until Marcy had buckled herself in Marian looked up the restaurants' directions before driving out of the parking lot.
At the question though it did cause her to pause for a second and glance back over at the girl. Only Chris had ever asked how she seemed to know what people needed, and hearing the question again brought a smile and a small laugh.
"You're very welcome, it's my pleasure really. As for the prayers, not quite either of those actually. Although i have to say it would be interesting to see how it would be different if i did hear them like Dolores. In reality though it's more like... an instinctual pull. Like when you see a crying child your first thought is to pull them into a hug and reassure them. Or you see someone searching for something and know what it is and where to help them find it.
There's a tugging on my mind to get my attention, and once they have it i have the knack to know just what they seem to need. There have been some that are more... resistant to it. But those have been mainly among followers of other faiths and the odd one here or there."
The odd one mainly being her brother Marian noted to herself.
"How have you been adjusting though? I'm a bit of a workaholic myself so i know what it's like trying to make yourself stop and relax for a while when you're not used to it."
Marian hoped that Marcy wasn't doing too terribly. Being Cassius' assistant and foster daughter it wasn't hard to imagine how much Marcy had been involved in the mans' life. That on top of taking time to physically heal.
Marcy deserved so much good in her life.
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Marcy knew gods and goddesses were a bit more complex than people made them out. It wasn't 'the big man upstairs,' but the god who smoked like a chimney and had a teapot collection. It wasn't 'the divine guiding the sky' but the goddess with frizzy hair and an old truck that rode a little rough.
Divine beings walked among us whether or not anyone wanted to acknowledge it. And perhaps, Marcy thought, the reason why most don't like to acknowledge it was that it was easier to think of gods being distant rather than see them in the eyes of a beggar.
Or the in the green Lamborghini that cut you off.
The sight of Marian caused Marcy to smile brightly. Dressed in jeans and a baggy black Jack off Jill shirt, she shifted her pink prada bag on her shoulder and quickly walked to the truck with a spring in her step. After pulling herself into the passenger side, she adjusted her purse on her lap before reaching for her seatbelt.
"Thank you so much for picking me up. I greatly appreciate it. You haven't any idea how much this means to me." Marcy considered the statement. Misamere was the one who heard prayers. She looked at Marian quizzically. "Or maybe you do? How does hearing prayers work? Are you like Dolores from Encanto where you hear everything all the time or is it just sometimes? Or dreams? I've always wondered how that works."
Hearing that Marcy hadn't eaten yet but was willing to get food brought a smile to Marian's face. She knew that being injured or sick sometimes made it hard to have an appetite. Or have the energy to make something despite being hungry. So it was a bit of relief that Marcy was agreeing to getting something.
The question did pop into her head for a moment if Marcy was vegetarian herself or if she simply liked the chili. She couldn't remember off the top of her head if she had heard one way or the other, but it was something to keep in mind if she ever had the chance to bring over food. Marian would have to ask if she had any allergies or dietary restrictions.
Giving Marcy a "See you soon." back Marian set to slipping her jacket on, making sure Frankie had his own dinner in his bowl (the wet food this time to soothe his grumpiness), and head out to her truck. The drive over to Marcy's building wouldn't take long at all. Buuuuut Marian still took the time to go through her music and slip in an Andy Williams cd.
"Falling in love with love, is falling for make belieeeeeeve! Falling in love, with love, is playing the fooooooool!"
On the ride over Marian's fingers tapped on the steering wheel in beat with the songs as she thought about what sounded good for a late dinner. That and what she and Marcy might do while she was over. First thought was to make a pot of tea or coffee and just chat, seeing how she didn't know too much about Marcy and she would indeed like to get to know her better. Marian also did have some nail polish tucked away if she wanted her nails painted again. She would have to see how the teen was feeling when they got back to her place.
By the time she pulled up in the garage Mr. Williams was singing about how he left his heart back in San Francisco. Looking around only took her a short while to spot her and come to a stop near her and rolled down her window.
"Hello dear, hop on in. I hope you didn't wait too long in here."
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As Marian spoke, relief washed over Marcy like a wave and she could feel herself offering both a smile and a sigh of relief. She wouldn't be intruding. Marian had even offered her dinner.
To be honest, the medication she was on made it difficult to feel hungry but there was something about being offered that felt welcoming. "I haven't eaten yet, no." Briefly she considered protesting dinner but logically she knew she should eat. "Maybe we could swing through a drive through? McGregor's deli has really wonderful vegetarian chili."
Marcy ensured the cap of her peach juice was tightly sealed before setting the bottle into her purse. Grabbing the bag by the handles, she made her way back to her bedroom.
She wasn't entirely certain how long Marian would let her hang out but grabbing her medication and protective mask for her nose seemed like a safe idea.
"I can meet you in the parking garage so you don't have to come all the way up. I'll see you soon. Thank you, Marian."
Hanging up the phone, Marcy glanced around her room in search of any needed item that was best not forgotten. Her phone charger, travelers notebook, and medication was thrown into her bag. The protective mask for her injury was slipped on her face and briefly she thought of Hannibal Lector before pushing it from her mind.
She pulled her bag up onto her shoulder and paused once more, eyes going to her bed. She hesitated briefly, mentally weighing options before reaching under her pillow and grabbing her switch blade.
Marcy was deeply religious and knew The Dark Lord would protect her against evil. But she also knew that, sometimes, you had to protect yourself against people. If the man that hurt her ever came back....Well, Marcy knew she would do more than pray this time.
"Of course you may! I would love the company right now. The only one i have in the house at the moment is a rather pouty cat who's hiding under my sofa after his nail trim."
Looking around the house Marian hoped that Marcy wouldn't think too little of her home. It wasn't as grand as Cassius' home outside of the city, his one at the top of Brendles, or Marcy's own place now. Books were always scattered across just about ever surface, most appliances in her home were second hand, and in general the whole place had a well worn in feel to it. Like a stair banister that had had generations of families running their hands down it. Either way though Marcy had requested her company, and Marian was more than happy to give that.
Then there was the comment that Marcy had made about her new place, about not having anyone there at the moment and nothing to do while healing. The memory of the first time she had been brought to Cadenworth. The nerves that came with being in an unfamiliar place on her wedding night had left her shaking at times. Sunlight the next day had made it a bit easier, but the evenings still took time getting used to. The thought of having to live in a new place by yourself while injured though sounded awful lonely. And if Marian was picking up the tone of Marcy's voice correctly, it was very lonely indeed.
The poor girl. She really have ought to have given Marcy her number earlier now that she thought of it. With all the male gods surrounding her life how many female friends did she have to turn to?
Keeping the phone tucked against her shoulder the tea was placed back in the fridge and Marian instead made her way over to the table where her keys sat in a shallow dish. Shoes were by the door and would be grabbed there. It took a moment to locate her jacket though, finding it hanging on the corner of a bookshelf.
"I certainly know what it's like trying to get used to a new place. Especially if you don't have any work to keep your mind distracted. Although i do insist that you allow me to either give you a ride or walk over with you. It's a bit late in the evening to go walking by oneself. Have you had dinner yet by the way? We can grab something if your hungry at all."
Food was a good idea! Something warm to fill the belly. and maybe even some sweets. Marian already had some chocolate ice cream stored away in her freezer.
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"Nothing in particular." Marcy admitted, opting to rise from the couch. She pinned the phone between her ear and shoulder and went in search of her Bluetooth headphones. She believed they had last been in her purse. "I just woke up from a nap. I sorta fell asleep watching a movie. Time is really weird when you don't have to work."
Making her way into the kitchen, her purse sat atop the counter: a Prada leather top handle tote in the color blush. It had been a gift from Lord De Beaumont for her past birthday and she both adored the item and was intimidated by it. A coworker had once looked up the price tag: the equivalent of a used car. It was one thing for The Dark Lord to buy himself expensive items but, whenever she received them, she felt torn between gratitude and considering how much good that money could have done if given to the poor or a charity. She felt undeserving and it was always a humbling experience. Fetching her headphones from one of the pockets inside her bag, she offered Marian a 'one moment, please' as they connected. There, that was more comfortable. She slipped her actual phone inside the back pocket of her jeans and walked to the refrigerator.
"Asim isn't here and I haven't adapted to my new residence yet. Not that I'm not grateful. I'm eternally grateful that you and Lord De Beaumont would think so highly of me." Peach juice. Peach juice sounded amazing. She grabbed a bottle and uncapped it. "I suppose it just takes a bit of adjusting. Especially when healing." She took a sip of her drink as discreetly as possible so as not to be rude. "In time I will adjust."
This was said more as a personal affirmation rather than something she knew for fact. She certainly hoped she would...she was optimistic. But there was also a twinge of doubt. Perhaps she wouldn't. Perhaps she would be locked away in this condo like a princess in a tower and watch Mr. Watson take her place. Incompetent brown nosing Mr. Watson...The peach juice suddenly tasted sour on her tongue.
"Can I come over?" Marcy's voice was small, quiet. It was more hope than request as she braced herself for a rejection. "You wouldn't even have to pick me up. I could walk there. Lord De Beaumont gave me the address. I wouldn't be any trouble. You wouldn't even know I'm there...Please?"
Marian had to repeatedly remind herself that she loved her cat.
Frankie honestly meant the world to her, and she planned on him being with her for quite some time. However... if there was one thing she could live without was how loud he became when she had to trim his nails. It was the only time he ever became loud. Even during rare baths he hardly made a sound, resigning himself to glaring at her as Marian scrubbed him down and commit to hiding under the bed afterwards. Moments ago though he had been yowling his head off as though she was goddess of torture instead of mercy, and desperately trying to squirm out of her arms. One wouldn't guess it seeing him normally. But he was an absolute baby about getting this particular type of grooming done.
Currently he was sulking under the couch as she cleaned up the bits of trimmed claws.
Once the clippings were thrown away Marian checked on her arm that had been holding him. Couple scratches, but no cuts or bleeding. Marian poked at the scratches. No pain, just the tingle of nerves. It was a bit odd now remembering her past life. She knew what it should feel like, the light sting that should have been felt when she got them, and the compulsory urge to poke at cuts and bruises just to see how much they hurt. For her though it was just nerves. It was a delight when it came to Cassius and their 'romps'. But here it almost felt out of place.
Not bad. Just... different.
When her cell started ringing and she was brought out of her thoughts. Pulling it out of her pocket she noticed the unsaved number and debated on not answering for a moment before remembering she had given her number out recently, and that she was applying for a job at Brendles. Pressing the answer button she gave a quick "Hello?" and smiled when she heard Marcy's voice. Thank goodness she had answered! Marcy was one of the last people she wanted to miss a call from at the moment.
"Marcy dear, no trouble at all! I just finished something up and Cassius is currently out of the house so you called at the perfect time. What did you want to talk about?"
Placing the phone against her shoulder and pinning it there with her ear Marian went to grab a glass from the cupboard and open up the fridge to pull out a pitcher of iced tea. The thought of perhaps making a new batch and bringing it over to Marcy's crossed her mind. Maybe she could ask what kind of tea Marcy liked if she liked iced tea at all.
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Mercy and Marcy
Marcy's scream of terror caught in her throat causing her to choke and shoot upwards from where she lay along her couch. It took a coughing fit and short gag before her breath made it back into her lungs but this relief was accented by pain. Her face throbbed in agony of the previous action and, realizing everything had only been a nightmare, she pressed her fingers gently against her cheeks in an effort to soothe the ache.
A nightmare....only a nightmare. But, gods, a realistic one, at that.
On the far wall of her living room, the television was stuck on the title menu of Shrek. Donkey jumped up and down on the screen pleading 'pick me!' To the point of annoyance. Marcy had fallen asleep watching the movie and, for how long she was able to sleep through Donkey shouting the same sentence, she hadn't a clue. Sighing through her nose, she fetched the remote from the coffee table and silenced him.
Now in the quiet stillness of her condo, she lifted her wrist to check the time on her watch. Seven. Too late for dinner but too early for bed. She wasn't entirely sure how long she had napped but something within her mind told her it had been about three hours.
"Asim?" Marcy called despite knowing he wasn't there. Asim was a god fond of humans. If he was in the condo, he would have been at her side when she awoke, assuring her the nightmare was just that and nothing more. Still, part of her--a good chunk at that--wanted him to be here.
If she were very honest, Marcy didn't like the new condo. It didn't feel like home. Granted, she wasn't completely certain if The Country House felt like home either...Not after the attack; but this place really didn't feel like home. It was too...her. Collins had done such a near perfect job designing the place with her own style that it felt foreign. She had grown up bouncing among Brendles', The Country Home, and the temple. All of those places were designed with The Dark God in mind. Finally being in a space completely her own, she felt distanced from him and hated the feeling. This was only emphasized by the fact she could see Brendles' from her living room window but was told not to be there. And then there was Mr. Watson.
Ugh.
Drawing her knees into her chest, Marcy sat her chin atop them and found some strange comfort in the way her face lightly throbbed from the pressure. Her eyes focused on the blank television screen before her while her thoughts focused internally. Lord De Beaumont had forbid her from work other than light clarification Mr. Watson may need. She couldn't drive so going to the temple would need an Uber and she had donated her last check to charity. Still, she felt restless and the walls around her uncomfortable. Maybe she should pray...
Marian!
Uncurling from her position, Marcy squirmed on the couch in search of where her cell might be. She had been playing Disney Tsum Tsum before taking a nap and didn't recall putting it away. Finding it beneath a couch cushion she grinned in triumph before seeing a text on the screen.
Edgar Watson: How does Mr. De Beaumont like his morning coffee?
Marcy's eyes narrowed. There was so much about the question that aggravated her. 'Mr.' was one. It was Lord. Not mister. And morning coffee was another. LORD De Beaumont preferred morning tea unless the night before had been restless. And then there was the thought of Mr. Watson asking her that question. She imagined him and his stupid face trying to brown nose his way into favoritism. He was temporary. Temporary.
She wondered if The Great Collett ever had to-- Oh! She had almost forgotten!
Unlocking her phone, Marcy ignored Mr. Watson's text for now to search through her contacts. Marian....It would be her first time calling her. Still, The Merciful Wife spoke the truth and she had said she could call anytime...Gods, why was she so nervous? Just dial. Just hit dial. It will be fine.
Just.
Hit.
Dial.
Taking a deep breath, Marcy pressed call and brought the phone to her ear. She heard Marian's voice after the fourth ring. "Um, hi. Marian? It's Marcy...Do you maybe have a moment to talk? It's not urgent or anything but I wouldn't want to interrupt your evening."
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