kdmarcus
kdmarcus
Misfit
6 posts
Marcus Lyonnett Wetzler | Eight of Spades | Healer
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kdmarcus · 4 years ago
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The Chosen Victim
@shuliing
December 18th, 2020
Spade faction, Triage Center 
The Wild Hunt, which marked the beginning of Yeon Nen, was two days and two nights away. That was much shorter than the hours Marcus had thought was left in the time bank for him to get it done - restocking the medication storage with potions for arthritis and epilepsy. 
That explained why while most of others were busy themselves with preparations for the winter festivities, Marcus buried himself in the Triage Center, with a suspicious amount of mistletoes piled up on his working desk. The good (or not?) side of this was the Misfits squad was there to help, as they would always do whenever he was, and wasn’t, in need. Now that Marcus got a bunch of mistletoes and empty vials, with two Master Sergeants and one First Sergeant at his service, the Emitter wished that he had known how to clone himself - one for making the potions, the other to keep his young friends entertained. 
Clayton was almost always the first to pose questions, about whatever had made their way into his racing mind. For this chaotic evening, the mistletoes were the obviously the star, since no matter how far their conversation went, it ended up being put under the spotlight again. Right then, Marcus was briefing to his friends, for the third time in the night, about what he would do with all the mistletoes he’d got.  
“So basically, let them dry, get rid of the useless parts, slice and mince them, then boil them with a few more things over there,” his thumb pointed aimlessly at the enormous wood shell behind him, which was always filled with colorful vials and bottles in different sizes and shapes. Marcus couldn’t tell exactly what the trio was doing, as he needed to focus on watching closely over two boiling cauldrons in order not to ruin either of them. 
Another question about the usage of mistletoes, from Lailah or Shuling he wasn’t able to tell, and didn’t need to, since he would reply to it anyways. “Well, as you can see, it’s an ingredient for arthritis and epilepsy potions. They also help for those who have high blood pressure, and even cure infertility.” 
Marcus stopped himself there, for he really didn’t have the energy to recite everything he’d learned by hearts from the books, and none of his friends would have got enough patience for that even if he had kept explaining.
His surroundings got oddly peaceful after that. Two minutes of no noises but the quite rumbles of the potions was enough to be alarming, and when Marcus lifted his eyes off the cauldrons to check, he saw three pairs of foxy eyes staring at him.
“I solemnly swear you guys are up to no good,” the Emitter remarked, out of experience. Usually, such expressions on their face would spell bad omen, but since he was trapped with the potions now, Marcus couldn’t just run for his life. They wouldn’t kill him, Marcus was sure, but maybe plotting something close to it.   
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kdmarcus · 5 years ago
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Newcomer | Max & Marcus
A starter for @its-max-okay
The first day after his semi-voluntary enlistment was, to Marcus’ surprise, peaceful. Not that he had expected to wake up to a hotchpotch of screams and shouts - that would be his worst nightmare came true. But this indeed the first morning in several years that Marcus gout out of bed, and recognize that there was a little seed of hope and excitement had sprouted in his heart. 
He had been walked through the basic rules by which all Spade soldiers must abide, and so far none of them has made it difficult for him to follow. Today, right after breakfast, he was instructured to visit the Triage Center, where he would get on-the-job training and non-stop practice for decades to come. As a teenager, he was curious. As a just-been-blessed-yesterday healer, he was thrilled. And slightly terrified, once he came close enough to the Center to see how large it actually was. 
Smoothening out the invisible wrinkles and casting off the invisible dust on his fprestine uniform for the nth-time, Marcus squeezed the straps of his leather backpack as a form of self-encouragement, then treaded his way into the Center. It was a miracle that he didn’t stumble over his own legs as he passed the entrance. Or it wasn’t really a miracle, for he had just frozen on his feet once remembered that he hadn’t been told what to do or where to go next from here. 
There were a couple of soldiers walking back and forth the hallway, of course no one paid him any attention, if dimissive glances could be excluded. His survival instinct urged Marcus to go look for somewhere looked like the Center’s main office, or at least someone who looked like they knew what to do with newbies like him, but that could mean he could turn himself into an idiot. After a good minute of deep thinking, his brain finally remembered a name that had been introduced to him last evening. Go greet Max, she’s your superior. 
Marcus couldn’t help but hitting the back of his own head for forgetting such a precious piece of information, then took no time to ask the next first person he saw along the hallway about Max’s whereabouts. Thanks god, she seemed to be well-known, for Marcus didn’t need to explain any further to be directed to where she was. 
It wasn’t difficult at all to tell who was Max among the little crowd in the room, as she was fixing up a cut on a soldier’s hand with the silver threads coming out from her...Stomach? Marcus’s mouth agape in mild shock once he realized that. The god that blessed him had explained about the manacore, but he was too overwhelmed at that time to remember all the details, so watching the magic in live action was downright fascinating. Hynotized by the scene, Marcus temporarily forgot where he was and what he was supposed to do. It took him a few seconds of staring at his superior’s eyes to realize she was looking at him, and probably waiting for him to say something before kicking him out of the center. 
“I’m so sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to stare.” He hadn’t breath probably since the first moment he witnessed the healing process, but that should be the last thing Marcus care about for now. Bending his back in ninety degree toward Max in a formal bow, he tried to look at the other healer’s eyes again - yet failed - as he briefly introduced himself, “My name’s Marcus Weztler, a Six and a new healer. I’ve just enlisted yesterday, and I’ve been told to go meet you, ma’am.”  
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kdmarcus · 5 years ago
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The Attacked | Plot Drop 01
Thursday 12 November 2020; Evening. You are working in the Triage Center when two Spade Citizens (ones) come in. Both have been badly beaten and are being helped inside by some Spade soldiers. The soldiers drop them off, saying they haven’t been able to make sense of their slurred words and have no idea what happened to them. 
Once you heal the human male enough for him to be able to speak clearly he tells you he and his partner were attacked in Club Territory. The attackers had assumed that, since they were Spades, they had water rations on them. They didn’t, but the attackers hadn’t believed them until they’d beaten them and searched the pair themselves.
Mark is being absorbed in an anatomical book when it happens.
Years and years in the Spade army have trained him to get used to almost all sorts of disturbance, and to deal with them properly. But, the emitter guesses, it would never be enough to get him desensitized to the pain of those who have to see themselves at Triage Center. With time, Marcus has learned to estimate the damage right from the sounds of their suffering. Most of the time, the more serious the wounds, the quieter the injured are likely to be.
 The two battered citizens in front of him would have been pretty much quiet – and they should have been – if the soldiers had figured that it’s nearly useless trying to get information from those busted lips, bleeding tongues, and missing teeth.
“Thank you all so much. And please,” his eyes momentarily move from the two injured to the soldiers who have just helped them in, “it would help a lot if we are a bit more gentle to these cases, especially humans, don’t you think?” The corners of his lips tug up a polite smile, then it waited until the soldiers left the center, when it softens down to a more comforting one as he looks back and kneels down beside the two injured.
 “You two will be alright soon. It would just be uncomfortable for a few moments, ‘kay?” He assures both the males, scanning their wounds while calculating the best ways possible to get them healed. Having treating injuries on humans for decades, Marcus is confident to take care of the human citizen. However, while his anatomical knowledge about strongarms can be deemed efficient, his manacore still needs more time to achieve the full capability of treating ones. He might try, but not without great risks of burning his mana veins to ash and leaving nasty scars on the poor citizen.
 Without another second of hesitation, the Emitter gets back on his feet to fetch a higher-rank fellow, who – thanks God – just a room away and is ready to help. He then darted back to the human, and immediately gets down to business. Silver magical threads come out after a light touch on his manacore, and the facial wounds are always privileged.  
His dainty wrists and fingers dance along the rhythm they have been well-acquainted with, up and down and right and left, some rotates here, some strokes there. Dislocated joints require calculated strength, while shattered bones demand meticulous patience. Internal injuries, however, need the patient’s corporation to be identified. “Let me know when it hurts, yes?” He asks the human male for permission, before gently pressing his fingers on the once-badly-bruised torso, while his eyes observe closely for the slightest of winces on the male’s face.
 As expected, their biggest problem lies around the belly area. The bruised stomach and liver left almost none of his manacore for the damaged gallbladder, yet Marcus took the challenge, and (thankfully) finished fixing the man before getting himself totally burnt-out. Wiping the heavy beads of sweats off his forehead with his own sleeve, the emitter looks up at now-entirely-healed human to ask the question those Spade soldiers have tried to get the answer in vain. “What happened to the two of you?”
 Marcus may be able to anticipate the reply, yet it can’t stop his eyebrows from knitting tight together in a rising abhorrence for the culprits. Although he has never wished to carry any sorts of negative feelings around, this situation deserves a stronger reaction than his usual composure.  But no, he isn’t going to dart out of the Center and hunt down the guilty attackers, for that should be done not by an emitter.
 Giving the human some private space to collect himself, Marcus goes to find Max, patiently waits until she’s got a few moments for him, then reports to her what he’s heard from the man. 
“Ma’am, we’ve just healed two Ones badly attacked at the Club Territory. One of them said it was because the attackers thought they’ve got water with them. I’m not sure if it’s worthy of attention, but I guess I should inform you about the issue.”
(feature @its-max-okay)
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kdmarcus · 5 years ago
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Deity Aesthetics
EROS: • scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie • milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous •  [ 06/23]
HECATE: • prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings  • [ 13/23]
PAN: • enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot  • tends to overindulge  • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire  • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry • [ 08/23]
NEMESIS: • angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words  • [ 10/23]
HYPNOS: • very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets  • starry eyed • horrible money management  • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes  • [09 /23]
IRIS: • life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart  • vases full of wildflowers • feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always travelling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person  • [11/23]
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kdmarcus · 5 years ago
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There would not be enough words to say how much Evelyn had hated herself.
At first, her existence was deemed as a lovely ‘accident’ of her parents, then as a cruel joke of the family’s gene pool. Out of the possible options, the universe bestowed the worst of them upon her. Being a human on this cursed land, in her case, was just a notch better than death. Her parents didn’t hate her, but she would rather them stabbing her with a knife, than gluing those disappointing gazes on her back. Her elder brother, however, had done a much better job in verbalizing his abhorrence. Countless sneers and glares and curses had been fired whenever she was in the vicinity of his “territory” – which meant everywhere in the house, except her humble little room. She had to address him as Horace and not Kangdae, for that name should be used by anyone else but her, while she couldn’t remember if she had ever heard her name coming out of his mouth.
She didn’t have friends, only enemies – some looked down on her human gene, others envied her ethereal beauty. Lots of boys and men were dumfounded at first glance, some remained haunted by her smile, until the day she eloped with a bold strongarm. Just like her, Asher was an underdog, an abandoned yet fierce one, all ready to bite the fate in its ass if it dared to mess around with him. The couple did everything they could to escape from their miserable past. He stormed his way up in the Spade army, she flaunted her bewitching appearance and acting talent out there for the world to see. He dedicated his life to the battleground, she sold her soul to a demon. They were a perfect match. Also each other’s true love, she believed.
The day she knew she was going to be a mother, Evelyn almost cried. Never before in her life had she allowed herself to be overwhelmed with joy and hope. It would be a sin to say she hadn’t prayed for their son to take all her husband’s genes and none of hers, for there was nothing great about being a pitiful human, or a desperate ritualist in Kadeu. August came to put her greatest happiness into her arms, when she had already got every single step of her son’s bright future planned out in her mind. Marcus would be nothing like she or anyone in her so-called family was. He would be a warrior like his father, would be able to stare adversities in the face and shatter his enemies into pieces. His rank would be higher than the total of his parents’, he would love his spouse and be proud of his children, and would be laid down gently after a serene winter of his life.  
Three years from that magical morning, everything changed, for the worse of it. Her son was a human, and her husband was no longer a perfect match. They fought more often, to the point Evelyn stopped waiting for him at the door, and Marcus had never got a chance to play hide and seek with his father. Asher blamed it on the war, Evelyn blamed it on Marcus. But Marcus was so young and innocent, so she poured all the blames back on the world she was born into.    
Despite all the setbacks, the desire to go against her destiny still burned. When Evelyn realized she had accidentally caught the eye of a Heart highranker, suddenly, she was alive again. There was no true love from her this time, but it was better to have everything but true love, than having true love but not anything else. She had wanted to start her life all over, to once again censor the shameful past from the story of her rise to fame and power. While she may not be a good mother, Asher was very much capable of anything but taking care of a child. Marcus was still too young and innocent. Her son hadn’t done anything wrong but being himself - a helpless human Spade in a cursed magical land.
Evelyn moved on with her new life, anyways. Things turned out to be better than ever, as long as she didn’t spend too much time looking at Marcus. Asher was swallowed in the war fire, but there was still him in Marcus’ big brown eyes, in his voice, in the way he walked, how he looked at her. Oh, how her son looked at her. It was full of love and hope, maybe too much love and hope that it effortlessly suffocated her heart. Marcus didn’t deserve her purposeful neglect, but he reminded her too much of all the things she wanted to forget the most.
Fate was a cruelly ridiculous folk, it seemed. While all her wishes for Marcus’ life had been shattered, her son magically found a way to get himself out of her secret chamber. The gentle, vulnerable Marcus was now blessed to become a healer – something none of hers or Asher’s family could ever relate. He has proved that he’s really his father’s son, and the last thing Evelyn could do for him as his mother was sending him to where he truly belonged to.
And for herself, her mind could finally rest, and she is now allowed to wait for her karma to come in total peace.  
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kdmarcus · 5 years ago
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Noir Asks
Night: how are you?
Dark: what time of day is your favorite?
Mana Lamp: where do you want to be right now?
Caffeine: what’s your favourite drink?
Stars: what is a goal you have for life?
Moon: who is someone that always brings you comfort?
Quiet: who is your favorite person to talk to?
Cold: is your room typically messy or clean?
Late: would you walk alone through your territory at night?
Silhouette: do you ever travel outside kadeu?
Fox: what trait do you like about yourself?
Blue: do you sleep with the blinds/curtains open or closed?
Rain: how much of your life do you regret?
Black: a piece of life advice?
Bat: what species would you choose to be if you could?
Midnight: when was the last time you cried?
Silver: what’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?
Moonlight: what faction outside of your own do you feel most comfortable in?
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