Rules of Attraction⇋ [full ~ PropheticallyLost]

[xCIZINEC]

xx◄ ◄ ◄ ► ℳỿ ṨȶɵℜỾ ɠʘҿᴤ . . .xxxx

Marcus smiled, wider and wider. Oh, God, the delicious fear he could practically taste from the air over her skin! He felt his chest swell again, but it was different this time; almost hollow, and in need of filling. If only he could devour the girl, consume her, let her flesh meld into his own and make him whole again! But he shouldn't. Dead, he couldn't revel in her pain, in her fright, in her whimpers and screams. The Voice suppressing Marcus wanted her so alive that every nerve he pressed would spread like fire through her body. He wanted her to suffer something not even her tears could quench. It had been too long since he'd seen the curse of fear in another human.

Marcus pressed closer to the girl, pinning her hips to the brick with his and lining his torso up along hers to arrest her movements. He braced his left hand to the wall next to her, closing her in with virtually no chance of escape. Strength and darkness allied themselves with him, working against Marcus's victim any way he needed. It was glorious. So perfect. "So perfect, indeed..." His voice slithered through his teeth, barely lifting itself above a whisper that snaked to her ears only. Then he sighed. The sheer beauty of the moment astounded him. The glistening tears that struck her rose-colored cheeks like beads of crystalline glass, the opacity of her breath as she heaved against him swirls of reserved warmth, the silence that shrouded them into an impermeable privacy. The night was rather cool and humid, but the large brick was still warm from the weather of the day and the consistency of the sun's gentle rays across the red plane, and it created a temperature gradient that sent shivers down his spine, begging him to come closer and closer to the warmth, and the only thing in his way was the girl.

Then she did something rather stupid. She moved. She raised her arm, and the movement infuriated the White Voice. Marcus's eyes glowered, but she couldn't see that. He forced the knife a little more against the skin, threatening to break it, but not yet crossing that threshold. With a feral growl, he grabbed the raised arm by the wrist and slammed it back against the wall above her head and pinned it there, not even giving it the satisfaction of a second glance as his eyes shot back to match the girl's. She whimpered a name and a plea, but he just smirked. "We take it you're not very familiar with his...blessing," He murmured, tilting his head a little too far right to look natural. But still, he smiled, his fingers playing with her wrist until he noticed...a bandage.

His expression fell, and his eyes turned to a gentle blankness as they stared at the girl. He pulled the knife off of her throat, but the blade still lay across her chest, threatening, but not imposing. Then his eyebrows creased and he slowly pulled her arm back down, all the while maintaining the fixation of his gaze until he held her wrist before him. Sure enough, the pale skin lay clad in gauze. Her sleeve was slightly raised, and from under the fabric peeked the remnants of injuries old. But he wanted to see more, so he tugged the fabric upward, revealing more and more scarred skin that dropped what he assumed was his heart. Marcus couldn't even look back to her eyes after that. His victim had been a victim many times before him. She was nothing new to it. The mere fact drove all sadistic craving from the White Voice, and he calmly stepped down and walked away from Marcus's mind to spend some time in his own solitude. Marcus blinked and the knife fell from his hand. He blushed badly at how he was pressed against a girl, so he pushed himself off of her and kept his eyes on her wrist, as he still held her arm. He let go, but didn't remove his hand; her arm simply hovered above his fingers.

"Go, Dottie."

xxxx. . . ȡӧℰƨɳ'Ϯ ℐт? ◄ ► ► ►xx

〖 ooc: sha sha ba da sha ba da... 〗

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[Lillith Rose 23]

█████████████████████████████xx☁☀xx████
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALL.xxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL

❝ Dottie Faye Lauren ▊▍
_________________________________________________________________

☁xx Time had seemed to stop. Everything moving in slow motion. As if she saw everything in perfect clarity, Dottie saw the expressions on Marcus's face change. They were unnatural and creepy. The look on his face as he smiled made her stomach churn. But oddly enough, she was strangely at peace. Dottie had been beaten, bruised and battered all her life by strangers she had hardly known. But this time it was someone she knew. Someone she wasn't close to but someone she knew. Personally. He pressed his body close to hers and the closeness made her breath come short and someone in the back of her mind, she knew her face was turning red. Not that that mattered anyway. She felt the knife against her throat, the sharp coldness of steel digging into her flesh. She felt the wetness running down her cheeks. Tears. Somewhere, in her mind, she really didn't care if he killed her. In a way, it would be a relief.
☀xxMoving had been a stupid idea, because as soon as Dottie raised her arm and spoke, her arm was taken and pushed against the brick wall behind them, the warmth sending shivers down her spin. He had been murmuring about something, but nothing registered. He looked in her eyes, his head moving at an unnatural angel. Her breathing was still irregular, coming in short gasps. When suddenly, he just stopped. Her eyes went to where he was looking, and she saw the bandage that covered her burnt hand. His face fell and his eyes went to a gentler blankness. The knife was moved from her throat and rested against her chest. Slowly, he pulled her arm down staring at her wrist before the held it before him. He raised her sleeve and and his face dropped more, He stared at the old scares that lined and disrupted the smoothness of her skin. And then, the knife fell from his hand and his face reddened and he couldn't meet her eyes. He pushed himself off her and Dottie almost wanted to pull him back, the reassuring feeling of closeness leaving. But he kept her arm, staring at her wrist. He let go, until her arm was hovering above his arm. He whispered for her to leave.
☁xx Dottie didn't run right away. She stood there for what seemed like hours, staring at him. She couldn't look away. Her senses were still in a mess and nothing seemed right. Things were still in slow motion. The world seeming to turn on its axis too slow for it to be natural. Slowly she wrapped her hand around his, gripping it tightly. And then she was running. Out of the alley and down the street as the lights came on. Her feet carried her all the way home, where she hurried inside and shut the door, locking it. Dottie leaned against the door, breathing hard, her hand against her chest to stop her heart from beating out of her chest. But she didn't run because she was afraid. She was quiet the opposite of afraid now. She was curious and her thoughts were running wild. All of them centered around Marcus.

[[OOC: ]]

 

[xCIZINEC]

xx◄ ◄ ◄ ► ℳỿ ṨȶɵℜỾ ɠʘҿᴤ . . .xxxx

She just...stood there. It drove Marcus crazy to see her before him still, even if he dared not look at her, he could see her. It drove him crazy, infuriated him, even! He felt himself shake with fear and anger, but it wasn't all too apparent as he kept his collective manner about him. He wanted to explode on her for not leaving the moment he told her to. It was dangerous. He was dangerous. Still. The Voice could always come back, and in his state, any of them could take over. The Blue, the Purple, the Red. Sometimes, Marcus wasn't all too lucky.

It finally occurred to him to reiterate his command. The words gathered in his mind, then in the back of his throat, and he was only just about to utter them or speak them or scream them when the most blissful feeling seized his entire being. He didn't even have to lift his gaze; he could see her fingers wrap around his hand by his side, comforting him, reassuring him, forgiving him. Forgiveness. Understanding. Maybe that was what it was. Maybe that was what he felt from her. Marcus turned to look at Dottie; he tried to steal one last glimpse of her eyes, but she escaped him at that very moment, fleeing the scene and leaving nothing but the echo of her footfalls as a memory of her presence. When silence fell across the alleyway, Marcus finally breathed.

He hadn't realized he was holding his breath, but he had been doing so for so long that the rush of air dizzied him, and his inhalation came in short, rapid, and almost pained gasps. One hand braced him against the wall for support; the other clutched at his chest, and then his hair, and then his stomach as the pain fluttered through him. His body shook noticeably now, but there was no one to notice. He was alone. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dampening his brow and the hair that fell over it, but there was no one to notice that, either. Marcus could have very well suffered a heart attack right then and there, but still there would be no one to notice. He was so incredibly alone that no one could notice anything about him. He leaned there, against the wall, breathing, coughing, sweating, and he waited for the pains to pass unnoticed.

It felt like hours, but Marcus eventually recovered. He pushed off of the wall and steadied himself, but his balance wasn't perfect and he wavered ever so slightly in favor of the constant draft pervading the alleyway. As his wits came about him, Marcus tidied himself up, brushing his matted hair out of his face, straightening his jacket, brushing the dirt off his hands; but still, the nastiness lingered on him, in him, about him. He felt like a monster. He dared not look around, lest the glimmer of a broken mirror or the smooth surface of a little puddle coax him in for an image and prove him to even look like a monster. So Marcus just threw his hood up over his head, and he pulled it down as far as it would go over his eyes and just gripped it there, refusing to let it recede in near moments. His grip tightened and his muscles tensed more and more as his sanity regained its hold of his conscience. From under his hood, from his unseen eyes, streamed tears, glistening in the street-lamp lights as he broke down and cried. Multiple streaks carved through the dust on his cheeks, but he didn't bother wiping them away. He just cried. He just let himself cry. Then he lashed out, striking the wall with his bare fists, over and over. Then he cried some more.

Ten minutes later, he was approaching home. His hood still covered his face, but no trace of the tears remained underneath. His sleeves, however, were quite wet. But those were well tucked away in the recess of his pockets, which hid his bloodied knuckles. Granted, the salt of his tears against the raw flesh wasn't pleasant, but even less so would be the interaction with Darren should he see his Schizophrenic older brother who just walked his best friend home come in stained with blood and tears and the refusal to talk about his recent journey into the night. But Darren had a prior engagement. With any luck, his priority wouldn't be Marcus. Hell, he might not even be home. Here's hoping...Marcus prayed, reaching the front door to his house and twisting the knob and pushing it open and stepping inside and shutting it quietly behind him. He didn't see Darren in the immediate area, so Marcus took advantage of that and stole up the stairs, into his room, which he promptly locked himself in before he stripped of his jacket and his shirt. He then threw himself onto his bed and relaxed his entire body, preparing to spend the whole night staring at the ceiling and making friends with shadows on his wall. "Is being normal just...too much to ask?"

xxxx. . . ȡӧℰƨɳ'Ϯ ℐт? ◄ ► ► ►xx

〖 ooc: POST~! I'm in love with Marcus. 〗

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[Lillith Rose 23]

█████████████████████████████xx☁☀xx████
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALL.xxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL

❝ Dottie Faye Lauren ▊▍
_________________________________________________________________

☁xx The night and darkness had crept its way into the house, Dottie still leaning against the wall, he heart racing and her mind as well. There would be no chance for sleep tonight. Nothing could quiet her mind after the recent events. She laid her head in her arms, he face covered and that's where she stayed. She didn't move, despite the protests from her legs and her injured hand which was now bleeding. Dottie could really care less about all of it. She needed to think, to put together her thoughts and her emotions. She lifted her head, determination in her eyes. She looked more determine than ever before, and a new kinda of something coursed through her. It was courage.
☀xxDottie stoold far too quickly, her wobbly legs almost making her fall. She regained her balance and dashed to her room. She tore out of her shorts and put jeans on instead, switching her sweater for an over size sweat shirt of Darren's. She slipped on her shoes again and pulled up her hood to hide her hair. She left her house, feeling the tingle of adrenaline, confidence and determination. She locked the door and made her way back to Darren's house. She knew that Darren wouldn't be home anytime soon. She knew where he was going. And she knew his house would be empty, besides Marcus. She couldn't speak earlier. She couldn't tell him it was okay, that she understood. Maybe when she took his hand, he understood, but she couldn't take the chance. She had to tell him. Had to make sure everything was okay. That he was okay. That was the only thought that was going through her head. She didn't feel fear, for once in her life. And she liked the feeling. She had to get to Marcus before the feeling wore off.
☁xx Dottie knew what window was Marcus's, the only issue was that it was on the second floor. There was a tall oak tree that grew beside the house and its branches reached to Marcus's window. Dottie and Darren used to time the tree and sit and talk for hours. Now, Dottie hooked her foot into the old foot holds and climbed up the tree. She hadn't climbed this thing in years. She hadn't climbed anything in years. She got to the limb that reached all the way to Marcus's bedroom window. She hoped he wasn't asleep, or that would be a bit awkward. The branch was thinner than she remembered, and it creaked with every move she made. But for once she didn't care about the dangers. The careful Dottie she had always been was slowly leaving her, even if it is just for a little while. When Dottie reached his window, her hood had fallen back and her hair was blowing around her in red tendrils. She lifted her hand and knocked loudly on the window. She gulped down the nerves that were bundling up inside of her and called, "Marcus! Open your window!"

[[OOC: ERMAHGAWD me too~]]

 

[xCIZINEC]

xx◄ ◄ ◄ ► ℳỿ ṨȶɵℜỾ ɠʘҿᴤ . . .xxxx

Time was slow in passing, and Marcus felt trapped by it. It wasn't horrible, but with nothing more to reflect upon than the recent events of the night, it was rather agonizing. Thoughts of what he was going to do to her and visions displaying the ideas in horrific detail flashed through his mind and behind closed eyes. It came to a point where he simply didn't want to blink. Unfortunately, it would take something stronger to kill the thoughts; he could only endure them as of yet. But his demeanor didn't betray the inner turmoil. On the outside, he appeared still, calm and collected, contemplative and undisturbed. Inside he was a series of screams and blood and cold.

A rapping against the window above his bed startled him, and Marcus flew upright in response. His breath hitched and his eyes shot to the left to catch the cause of it, and the blast of red beyond the glass made his heart sink. He saw her lips bend around speech, but her voice didn't reach him. Maybe he didn't want it to. Regardless, he leaned over and pulled the latch from the middle of the pane to let Dottie in. He couldn't very well leave her grasping onto old oak branches two storeys above cold earth in this wind. The glass panels folded outward to grant her entry, and Marcus leaned out to take her by the forearms and pull her to the frame. As soon as he felt she could climb the rest of the way herself, he backed off, sliding back against his headboard and into the corner. The sudden chill sent through him by the coolness of the wood and wall alerted him to the fact that he was still half-naked.

Marcus blushed horribly at the state he was in, especially in the presence of a girl. The fact that it was his bedroom only made the matter worse. She came back for you. That's cute. What are you waiting for, Marcus? Say something! If you don't, I will. Leave him alone, can't you see he's in enough pain? Why don't we all just shut up? If we leave, You-Know-Who will come back. Then let's just stick around and shut up. Marcus shook his head to dispel the Voices as best he could, and they got the message. A shroud of Blue encompassed his mind, and Marcus inwardly thanked her for the protection. He hoped he wouldn't need it.

Lifting his gaze again, he spotted Dottie and held her in his sight, unwilling to let her go. All the damage he did and all the damage he wanted to do still lingered in him. He didn't want to commit it--well, a part of him still did, but it was so small that he didn't even count on it--but he was undeniably faced with opportunity to do so. But that, too, never showed through. Instead, he maintained the countenance of fright, of fear, of regret, all in the quickness of his breath with the rising of his chest and the rapid beat of his heart in the quiver of his body. He was otherwise still; he dared not move, and he hesitated to speak. For once, he was afraid, and he knew it didn't have to do with the Voices. He didn't trust himself. It was strange. He flexed his knuckles, but didn't wince at the pain, and prayed to God if He would listen that Dottie not look at his hands. After a silence that lasted forever, Marcus cleared his throat. "Why are you here?"

xxxx. . . ȡӧℰƨɳ'Ϯ ℐт? ◄ ► ► ►xx

〖 ooc: ... 〗

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[Lillith Rose 23]

█████████████████████████████xx☁☀xx████
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALL.xxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL

❝ Dottie Faye Lauren ▊▍
_________________________________________________________________

☁xx And like that the courage was gone. In those simple words, it zapped out of Dottie. She stood in front of a shirtless Marcus, her face bright red. Almost as red as her hair. She pulled her hair over her shoulders, messing with it, a nervous habit Dottie developed a long time ago. She twisted a few strands around her fingers and looked at the floor. She swallowed hard. "I.. Uh... What happened back their... in the alley way. I'm not mad. Or afraid. I'm not afraid of you Marcus." Somehow, that summed everything up. And yet it still didn't feel like enough. Something was urging her to do something, to prove it to him the way words can't.
☀xxMoving slowly, Dottie sat on Marcus's bed in front of him. He was in the corner, almost like her was hiding. Trying to melt into the wall. Carefully, Dottie reached out to him, taking his hand in hers. She looked down and saw it was crusted with dried blood, wounds fresh, and knuckles cut open. She stood again and went to the bathroom coming back with a clean cloth and some wrapping bandages. She sat in front of him again, taking his hand in hers once more. "This may sting a bit, but it needs to be cleaned." Dottie began cleaning the injured hand, not looking back up. She was gentle, but made sure that every part was clean of grim, dirt and blood. She wrapped it gently, making sure it wasn't too tight or loose. When she was finished she kept Marcus's hand in her's, not asking what happened. She knew better than to ask unwanted questions.
☁xx Dottie sat in silence, trying to come up with words that would work. Words that wouldn't scare him away. It was ironic in a way. How Dottie was so scared of frightening him away when he was the one who should scare her. Not because he was a scary guy, but because he was so unstable. But really, Dottie didn't care. She didn't care about much right now. Just getting through to Marcus. "Marcus... I really don't know what to say to let you know its okay."

[[OOC: ERMAHGAWD me too~]]

 

[xCIZINEC]

xx◄ ◄ ◄ ► ℳỿ ṨȶɵℜỾ ɠʘҿᴤ . . .xxxx

Color crept to her cheeks and nervous motions busied her fingers as the words stumbled from her lips. Marcus watched the girl warily, regarding her as a threat almost, but a threat in such a way that her very being prompted him to make a threat of himself. He barely understood what she said over the intensity by which he attempted to control his manner. But the only important statement Dottie uttered reached him just fine. Not afraid? Not afraid...of me? His thoughts buzzed, confusion permeating his mind and betraying itself through his eyes. But he refused to move. Even as she fidgeted, Marcus remained still. Until she advanced.

His heart skipped, and his eyes widened a fraction of a centimeter, and his pupils dilated so fully that they concealed the vibrant gold-green of the irises. His breath quickened, slipping through his lips every once in a while, and he thought that maybe the room grew unbearably hot. Marcus followed her movement as she sat across from him on the bed. His gaze flickered to her hand as it invaded his space and seized his own, bloodied as it was. And sure enough, Dottie noticed the blood. He blinked in a short wince as she turned his wrist and stressed the skin, and in that blink she disappeared from sight and touch, only to return moments later with first-aid. Marcus said nothing as she cured the skin; he only occupied his eyes with observing how her fingers danced about his rough hand with dresses of white that hid the red.

"It's not OK." Dottie's words never consciously reached Marcus, but something still processed her vocation and built a proper response. "You want to accept it, because then there's nothing to fear. Then I don't scare you. That's what you want. We see it in you. We see it in your eyes," Marcus explained, his voice still broken by tears and confusion. He neglected to lift his gaze to hers as he spoke. He felt it especially inappropriate to assault her eyes with the black he knew to have consumed his own after the comment. For her sake, though, he left his hand in hers, though made no effort to hold her hand in the manner she held his. She needed to know he wouldn't reciprocate the comfort. She couldn't afford to get comfortable around him. "You don't know...what I wanted to do. What I was going to do to you. You don't know," He finished, his volume diminishing to a whisper as he spoke. The last words barely escaped his throat loudly enough for her to hear, even if she was only two feet in front of him. But she needed to hear it. Because she didn't know.

xxxx. . . ȡӧℰƨɳ'Ϯ ℐт? ◄ ► ► ►xx

〖 ooc: GAH! Sorry for my absence! I was grounded...but now I'm back! And I'm out of school (: 〗

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[Lillith Rose 23]

█████████████████████████████xx☁☀xx████
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALL.xxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL

❝ Dottie Faye Lauren ▊▍
_________________________________________________________________

☁xx His hands were cold. That was something Dottie noticed first, as Marcus finally spoke. She listened, absorbing the words slowly. His voice was broken and a bit hard to hear. But she heard him loud and clear. Her blush had gone away, and Dottie felt a bit numb. She wasn't used to not feeling afraid or nervous, so this whole absence of these two almost always there things seemed to leave her, a little lost. She looked up at Marcus, from where she held his hand, but his stayed limp in her. "I bet I can almost guess. But you, not even Darren knows everything that happened. How I got these," She lifted her pulled off her sweatshirt, showing a tank top underneath. On almost every inch of her arms, shoulders, back, chest, every bit of skin showing, there were white lined scares, decorating her skin. "So there is no way you could know that I couldn't guess. That I couldn't see it coming and maybe. . .Even accepted it." Dottie didn't sound like her normal self, instead she sounded almost angry.
☀xxDottie stood, going over to the window and looking out. Maybe it was a mistake coming after. Maybe courage was just as useless as fear. She didn't look back at Marcus as she spoke again, "I know I shouldn't ever want to see you again. I shouldn't want you to ever be close to me again. I guess I'm just stupid." Dottie leaned against the window and sighed. She really didn't know how to put this all into words. Her head was spinning, and her hand was beginning to hurt from the burn. She had probably scraped it on the tree when she climbed up. She stared outside, thinking how to put all this crap going on in her head into words.
☁xx Dottie looked back at Marcus. He refused to look at her what so ever. She crossed her arms, and opened and closed her mouth. Finally, she spoke. "You're right though. I want to believe it's okay. In a way it is, and then again it's not. It is okay because I didn't actually believe you would do anything. It's not okay, because you believe you would have. I know it makes no sense. Maybe in a way it does. The whole reason I came here is to maybe convince you that I'm not going to treat you different because of what happened. If anything, I want... I guess I want to be someone you can trust. Someone you know won't treat you different or freak out on you because of your problem. Someone who might actually like you...?" Dottie explained everything to the best of her ability, and in a way, telling him she liked him. The fear was creeping up inside her again. And in a way, it was welcoming.

[[OOC: It's fine! I pretty much disappeared for a while too. I had a whole lot of junk going on. And as am I smile And im sorry this post sounds dumb.]]

 

[xCIZINEC]

xx◄ ◄ ◄ ► ℳỿ ṨȶɵℜỾ ɠʘҿᴤ . . .xxxx

Marcus squeezed his eyes shut, determined to keep his eyes away no matter how she tempted him to look back at her. Every word eased his tension, but boiled his blood. He knew she was right. In some twisted way, she had it down to the letter. She understood, and it is that for which Marcus fell. But there was something he couldn't at all let her believe or even act upon, and for that he lashed himself toward her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her harshly back onto the bed to stare him in the eyes. "Don't," He mustered, pausing to swallow hard, "Don't you ever accept that behavior from me. We only stopped because..." And Marcus had to pause again, looking down from the shame that darkened his skin, "...because we realized. When we saw the scars, we realized. And there was no point." The tears didn't shake his voice, but they did spill over his cheeks. But Marcus looked at Dottie before him and didn't care that she saw. He didn't wipe them away. He simply looked down and let go of her wrists.

Marcus curled up, pulling his knees to his bare chest and clasping his arms about them. He rocked back and forth ever so slight, but he knew Dottie would notice. She noticed a lot, and he admired that. But it was a curse on her. After all, she noticed the one thing she should have avoided, and that was him. A cold sadness washed over him and his shoulders sank into the relief as a Voice raised itself to his ears. Marcus...The Blue Voice whispered in hushed encouragement. She relayed some approval, but he could tell from the mere sound of his name in her Voice what had been decided. Before she even finished, Marcus had relaxed to sit with his legs crossed and his elbows braced to his knees, fingers laced and still. His gaze capture Dottie once more, but the blackness had vanished from the irises. He looked remarkably normal, which was incredibly ironic for what he was preparing himself to do.

"You make perfect sense, Dottie," Marcus stalled. The Voices stirred, but they didn't protest. He replayed in his mind every thought she had phrased for him and a smile touched the corners of his mouth subtly. The thought of being treated no differently swelled his chest with warmth. The thought of trusting her made him dizzy with something like appreciation. The thought of being liked made him blush with what must have been happiness. Marcus suddenly wanted to welcome her into his life. It was a strange sentiment since he had never actually done it before; not even with his own family. His family was forced into his life, but Dottie...Dottie was a choice. In an instant, all fear of being close to her vanished and all desire to drive her away was squelched by his decision. By their decision. With the most deliberate of movements, Marcus stood from his bed and approached his closet, from the back of which he supplied a large various-media artist pad, worn by years of additions and gazing through its contents. He gave the cover a longing look, then walked back toward Dottie and slipped the pad into her hands. His name was scribbled into the cover and decorated by wisps of seven colors. Marcus Din Mercer. It even looked insane.

Sitting back down on the bed, Marcus smiled faintly, almost sadly, for a few seconds. "I want you to look through that. I want you to see what I see. I want you to see what I suffer before you decide to like and accept me, Dottie," He explained, his voice slow and tainted by a tinge of uncertainty. He prayed with every fiber of his being that what she would see and learn would not sway her. And he prayed that she could accept what he had to say. "I have Schizophrenia, Dottie. It developed fully when I turned ten years old. I've spent the last ten years of my life learning to control it, but I'm not perfect. It causes me to be restless, incoherent, and unpredictably violent. I do things for no reason, and I say things that mean nothing. I hear Voices. They tell me to do things that I sometimes don't want to do, but I listen to them more than I should. Almost a year ago, I developed a new symptom, called audio-visual hallucinations. It's when I see the Voices. They make me do bad things by taking over my mind, because I'm not yet strong enough to defend against it. I attacked a woman because of it...that's why I am afraid of what I can do to people. To you," Marcus trailed off, causing a short pause in his explanation. Then he cleared his throat and continued, "Not all of the Voices are bad. Some of them are beautiful. There are seven main Voices that I can distinguish because they make me see colors; the minor Voices that don't affect me are all gray, and they just sound like whispers in the background of a fancy restaurant. I started to put that together after I saw the Voices for the first time. I drew all the major Voices; you can see some are female, some are male; some are adults, some are teenagers, some are kids. The scarier they look, the more dangerous they are."

He took a deep breath. Marcus kept his eyes on Dottie, hoping he made the right choice. It would help her understand a lot, and he knew it would be the only way to let her into his life. He had one final comment, but he hated to have to say it. Forever must have passed in the time it took for him to build up the courage to tell her, but his clock begged to differ; it was only a few seconds short of a minute. "I saw the Voices tonight..." He whispered. He immediately began to hate himself and had to look away from the girl. The hatred shook the frame of his shoulders for a little before he was able to calm down and return his shameful gaze. He wanted to cry, but he had wasted all of his tears by that time. Marcus could only think about the horror he felt in that moment, but then the Blue Voice stepped in and eased him a little. He imagined the picture he had drawn of her in that canvas pad. She occupied the first page in different hues of blue, her every feature recreated in striking detail so as to do her beauty some justice. The page was titled The Blue Voice, and every stroke of pencil and brush relayed every ounce of gentleness and determination featured in the sound of her Voice. She represented twenty years of age, same as Marcus, but reflected more wisdom than such years could betray.

xxxx. . . ȡӧℰƨɳ'Ϯ ℐт? ◄ ► ► ►xx

〖 ooc: So, now I have a job...but I'll try to keep up (: 〗

x◎xx◎x

 

[Lillith Rose 23]

█████████████████████████████xx☁☀xx████
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALL.xxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL

❝ Dottie Faye Lauren ▊▍
_________________________________________________________________

☁xx Dottie did not scream when Marcus suddenly pulled her by her wrists to sit in front of him. She stared him dead in the eyes, unwavering as she listened. The pain and heart-break in his voice, the tears running down his face, it all made her want to be near him more. To comfort him. He spoke as if there were more than one person living inside of him. And in all honesty that was true. Dottie had known of his illness, but she said nothing. Instead, she watched silently taking in every detail of the older boy infront of her. The quick rise and fall of his chest, the shake to his shoulders, the ever so slight rocking as he sat with his knees to his chest. And then, he changed. Marcus visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagged and he changed sitting positions, a light red gracing his cheeks.. All black left his eyes, leaving only sparkling color, glowing in the light from the moon. He looked normal.
☀xxThen, another remarkable thing happened. He agreed with her. Told her she made perfect sense. Dottie's face was red with heat and she tucked a strand of vibrantly red hair behind her ear. Her hair wasn't sticking up as usual tonight, for what reason unknown to her. Marcus stood and walked over to his closet. Dottie took this chance to pull her sweatshirt over her head again. She maybe more courageous than normal, but she was still shy about her scars. She turned and watched him as he came back her way, placing a drawing time worn by time and use into her hands. Marcus's name was draw on the cover in different colors and scrawling script that was hard to read. He sat beside her, on his bed and smiled, almost sad. Still quiet, Dottie watched and listened to him speak. He explained his illness, what happens to him, what he sees and what it all means. And then he told her what was in the book. The Voices, In a way, Dottie felt like she was being privileged to something no one else in this world was. The thought and the feeling of being special to someone, made her cheeks warm more, and a small smile spread her lips. But with Marcus's last words, her smile dropped. She looked at him, her eyes a bit wide and her lips parted, ready to speak. But instead she turned back to the drawing pad and opened it.
☁xx The first drawing was blue. A women of intense beauty drawn in all manners and shades of blues. She showed wisdom and compassion and reminded Dottie a lot of a motherly figure. Dottie blinked, running her hand gently over the drawing. She flipped the page. With every turn of the page a new color and a new person came to life in vibrant hues of greens, oranges, purples, golds, yellows, and blacks. The final page was the most disturbing. It was colored completely black, and drawn in white was the most fearsome thing Dottie had ever seen. It wasn't even a person and yet it was. In a way it was beast and in another man. The figure had no ending and no beginning, but somehow she recognized it. It was the thing that took over Marcus tonight in the alley way. She could see it in the eyes. Slowly, as to not damage the paper, Dottie closed the book, gently setting it aside as she did with her precious items. She looked to Marcus once more and took in how the boy looked again. He was shaking, scared from what it seemed. Scared of her reaction to the things he had told her. Slowly, she found her voice and spoke; "Marcus.. I"m not going to treat you different. You're still Marcus to me. And yes tonight was scary, but what's even scarier to me is the thought of never getting to see, or talk, or listen to you speak again. I'd hate myself if I had let things end there, in that alley after I ran. To me, you're my best friend's older brother, a mystery to me for all these years, and you just so happen to be the boy I like. But one thing you aren't is the crazy guy. I will never see you as that. Just like I hope you see me as more than the poor, battered, abused, shy girl I've always been considered. And possibly, maybe you see me as someone... You might like." Dottie, with a swell of the same insane courage that had brought her here, placed her hand over Marcus's. She stayed looked, looking in his eyes, her cheeks getting ever redder. And she prayed she was making sense. "If you saw the Voices tonight, maybe I should thank them. Without them appearing, I would have never come here tonight. And I understand. I understand what this all means. I understand." She repeated those last two words, hoping if nothing else she had said made sense, those two words would. Because she did. She understood.

[[OOC: oh my <3.]]

 

[xCIZINEC]

xx◄ ◄ ◄ ► ℳỿ ṨȶɵℜỾ ɠʘҿᴤ . . .xxxx

It took the majority of his strength to avert his eyes as Dottie began to flip through the pages of his mind. While he didn't often see the Voices, he knew all too well what they looked like, and the sight of them wasn't the most welcome of sights. Marcus adored those such as the beautiful and maternal woman of Blue, the crazy and outgoing teenaged boy of Orange, the envious and tempered but good-natured male child of Green, the calm and peaceful man of Yellow...but Purple was an eerie, creepy little girl. The kind of girl who just looked like something was off about her, even when she looked perfectly sweet and innocent. You'd likely find voodoo dolls in her closet or severed heads from her old play dolls, but she'd do the world a favor and attempt to hide her sadism behind a mask of cunning, rude, and clever behavior. And Red was just cruel and vicious and angry and you could see it all in his eyes. That is, if you could focus on his eyes, for those eyes lay in an older, disfigured and misshapen face, so far from beautiful you could hardly call it ugly. He may have been what people commonly referred to as a monster, but Marcus had seen far worse than Red and could only comprehend him as little more than a bad dream. The nightmare was in the Black/White Voice. Something of a child that perhaps could be nothing human and nothing beast, but caught betwixt the two shapes to create something beyond understanding, half grace and half mayhem, and overall terrifying. Marcus heard the book close shortly after the flip of the last page that granted Dottie insight of that nightmare, and he sighed in relief. She didn't linger on that Voice. Good. She didn't need to suffer that one for too long.

Marcus stood and took from his dresser a plain gray shirt, with which he then clothed his bare torso. It was a matter of being appropriate; had Marcus decided to reject Dottie and set her back on her way home, he wouldn't have at all cared. In all honesty, he didn't care in general. But it was courteous to be decent in front of a lady, especially since she was to stay a little longer. Upon returning to seat himself on his bed, he caught Dottie's gaze and Dottie gave her voice. He listened intently for a few sentences, until of course his mind stuck to a particular statement and the rest of her words sort of lost themselves on his selectively deaf ears, for he couldn't make it past that fixation. The words would eventually catch up, but the outlook of herself she had portrayed to him stole his attention and shut down all other thoughts."Poor? Battered, and abused?" Marcus frowned, realizing for the first time that the world really did see her like that. But he was beyond the world where that was concerned. He leaned forward, looking more closely at the girl, and lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear and trace his fingers down the edge of her jaw, as though to silently tell her to keep her chin up. "Not even. Shy, yes, but in a reserved manner. You may not invite people to you, but that isn't bad. It means that when you are open to someone, you're as open as can be, and that's a blessing. Shyness is how you make friends that are meant to last forever," He challenged, effortlessly making something beautiful out of what she felt was an unfortunate circumstance. It was then that Marcus realized her hand covering his, and he smiled faintly.

"As far as being poor goes, you may not be the most fortuned in every aspect of life. But when things come easily to people, they don't appreciate those things. You always will, because you understand life without them. You've become strong enough to live without, whether you believe that or not," He continued, his brows creased as truth turned itself over and over from his unbarred lips. Marcus slipped his hand under Dottie's and gently twisted her wrist over, and his fingers invaded the hem of her sleeve and pulled at the fabric until the first few scars touched into the light. His expression hardened as he looked, but he didn't steal his gaze away. Instead he sighed and graced his thumb over the traces of healed skin. "Battered, and abused, but not broken. Your skin tells the story that you have faced more evils than most people. You've faced the evils that would break normal people, but you heal. Every time, you have healed. They can take the perfection of your skin, and they can take the nature of your trust, but they can't break you. All you've ever done is turn around and heal. Your scars make you beautiful, because I understand having to heal. My scars are in my mind. I can't wear them like you do, but sometimes, I wish I, too, could show the world that I healed. You shouldn't deny yourself that," He finished, and he pulled her sleeve back down. Marcus kept her hand in his and he let her words catch up.

Marcus cocked his head, giving her a curious smile and raised brow that followed with the words, "I do like you, Dottie." It was strange that she should have her doubts, but maybe that's how it was with a lot of people. After all, Marcus didn't exactly have many friends to count among his blessings. He couldn't determine what was human and what was Dottie sometimes, but she could tell him the difference when he needed. He looked down at their hands and something seemed so right about it that his smile widened to bare his teeth, and that smile persevered even through the Voices as they ran and jumped and yelled and laughed in his head, and Marcus suddenly started laughing lightly, too. He glanced back up to Dottie, wearing that smile and gentle laugh, and he brushed his hair back with his free hand. "The Voices," He started, still clearly amused, "They...they want to meet you, Dottie."

xxxx. . . ȡӧℰƨɳ'Ϯ ℐт? ◄ ► ► ►xx

〖 ooc: ... 〗

x◎xx◎x

 

[Lillith Rose 23]

█████████████████████████████xx☁☀xx████
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALL.xxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL
AND MAYBE YOU'LL BE THE ONE TO SAVE MExxxxxBECAUSE AFTER ALLxxxxxYOU'RE MY WONDERWALL

❝ Dottie Faye Lauren ▊▍
_________________________________________________________________

☁xx Dottie couldn't help but stare at Marcus. His words hit her right at her core. No one ever spoke to her like that. No one really ever spoke to her anyway. The way he looked at her while he spoke made her head dizzy. He touched her face and she gasped a small bit, before letting out the breath and leaning into his touch. He pushed a strand of hair from her face and ran a finger down her down her jaw line, like he was telling her to keep her chin up. He challenged her words of what other people, and she herself, thought about her. And when he spoke of her being able to appreciate things better than others, she smiled. Then, his eyebrows creased. He gently turned over her hand, so her palm faced up, and pulled up her sleeve till the first few scars showed. Dottie tensed, feeling his fingers gently trace the lines that barred her skin. His face went hard, but he didn't look away. The words that poured from his mouth then made her feel like her scars weren't all that bad anymore. And when he was finished, he pulled her sleeve back down, but kept his hand in hers.
☀xx The next words out of his mouth made Dottie's mouth open a fraction of a bit. Her stomach got a weird feeling and she felt her face burn brighter red than ever before. Her grip tightened a fraction in his hand, where he held it still. He smiled at her, brighter than ever before, that she had seen. She had never seen him smile like that and it made the warm spot in her stomach spread to her fingers and toes. And he began to laugh, a lighter sound than what he had done in the alley way. All her nerves simply vanished then. The nerves she had felt when she first came here were gone. She moved a bit closer to him, but not too much as to scare him away, but enough to be closer to him.
☁xx Marcus continued to laugh, and Dottie looked up at him, he was smiling and it was almost like she could help smiling either. He brushed his hair back, showing more of his face, more of his eyes. "They want to meet me? The Voices want to meet me? I thought they already knew me... I wouldn't mind properly meeting them. If its alright with you and them of course." Dottie was a bit confused. And then the image of the white/black voice came to her mind, and she had to admit she was nervous. But no where near as nervous as she would have been if this wasn't Marcus she was sitting so close to.

[[OOC: oh my <3.]]

 

[Lillith Rose 23]

xCIZINEC

Are we forgotten?