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@captainmarcuszeng-blog
What's your nightly routine? Your morning routine?
“Morning: Wake up, get dressed, eat, get to work. Night, Work, eat, nightly rounds, finish any planning that needs to be done, wash up, and then sleep. If you were hoping for something more out of the ordinary then I afraid you’ve asked the wrong person.”
.jeremiahlocke:
Jeremiah preferred to busy himself with something tangible rather than wasting his time thinking about things, if there was something he needed to dwell on he’d rather have an activity through which he could take out some of his energy on. There were a few bruises starting to patchwork his skin but otherwise he felt rather okay despite everything. Plus, he saw no point in complaining – what use would it do anyway? So he buckled down and got on with the things that needed to be done.
Hearing the familiar sound of the Captain’s voice at his back most would have gotten up or even looked to acknowledge him but Jeremiah had never exactly been one for formalities. Instead a quiet huff and nod was given as his own way to say welcome. Though what the Captain had to say next did make him pause, long enough to sit back on his haunches and look over his shoulder to where the Captain stood “I’d think you could take the same advice. Though,” he paused eyeing Marcus from where he knelt “something gives me the feeling that’s not likely to happen” perhaps it was bold to speak in such a way but Jeremiah had never been one to mince his words not even with Marcus– he said it how it was and that’s how it had always been. If people weren’t used to it by now then they could go fuss however they wanted, not like he cared.
The response was not something that he expected, but he wasn’t opposed to it nor one he take any offense to it. Instead, Marcus merely shrugged his shoulders, shifting the sword strapped to his back every so slightly . There was even the faintest glimmer of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before it quickly vanished and his face return to its default state. "You'd be correct," Marcus said, the tiniest hint of a chuckle in his voice as he spoke. "But things are much different for me." He was sure Jeremiah understood that.
But even before he became Captain, even when he was just a teenager, he never knew how to stop. The state of his planet and the circumstance he found himself thrust into made it so Marcus was in a constant state of hyper-vigilance. If he let his guard down or stopped working for one second, he would be dead. Things were a bit more lax by comparison on The Spectre, but old habits were hard to shake. "Would you be more open to taking a break if we take break in the mess hall? There's a chance Ambrose and Dax might have something for you to enjoy while you're down there." Marcus offered.
.jeremiahlocke:
As Kidri faded into the distance and the Spectre took its own course as swiftly as possible in the opposite direction from the planet Jeremiah sought out something to occupy his time with. With the rigging secure, the vibration of the engines humming throughout the ship and stars sailing past both port and starboard sides he could currently be found on the foredeck. On his hands and knees with a bucket of sud-laden water swelling with the slight tip of the ship as solar winds buoyed the ship in its flight, he worked methodically; using a stiff-bristled brush to scour the wooden boards underfoot leaving them glimmering and reflecting the galaxies overhead.
He’d been working for the better past of most of the morning, only ever pausing to spread some more water over the deck. His expression set in a stern look of contemplation, mind occasionally going back to the naval officers he’d rather literally beaten to a pulp with his bare hands and the memories caused him to mutter something to himself and scrub a tad more violently. It was only upon hearing the sound of approaching footsteps that he spoke up lest someone accidentally slip and hurt themselves or fall overboard… “Careful, it’s wet” was the only thing he uttered as he continued to scrub, the sinewy muscles of his lean arms wound tight, coiling and relaxing with each movement he made.
Even though they had long since left Kidri behind and the Planet Telvi was slowly turning into a tiny little dot amongst a sky full of stars, Marcus was still on the move. He silently ghosted the hallways, listening to his crew to see how they were all fairing, if any had been injured, if anyone was being treated, and just overall gauging morale. And when he wasn’t walking the halls, he was in the navigation room checking the scanners constantly making sure that they were truly in the clear.
It was only a matter of time before he came across Jeremiah scrubbing the deck. “Thank you,” Marcus said, glad that the man gave him a warning. “And thank you for your good work, Mr. Locke, but you’ve been at this for quite some time. I think you can afford to stop and take a break.” A strange thing to say, especially coming from the man that never seemed to stop working or moving, but after all the time and craziness that happened on Telvi, a little break seemed to be in order.
.anna-romwell:
Anna wasn’t one to cheer. She didn’t hoot or holler or whatever other noises people like Maxine made during victory. But when the crate at the end of the crane plowed strait through the squadron of Navymen, she actually cackled in pure amusement. She couldn’t help it– the crate smacked into the first line of officers with a resounding crack, and just kept going, pushing one soldier right into the other like dominoes. Anyone not shoved back was knocked to the side, or worse, steamrolled over. Marcus had lined them up so perfectly that only a few managed to skirt its advance, balancing precariously on the edges of the docks while the wooden terror swung past.
“Heads up, Captain!” Anna called, but he probably didn’t even need the warning. Judging by the way he was batting away soldiers like flies, a runaway crate shouldn’t be a problem.
While Marcus didn’t really trust Anna, he trusted her enough in this situation to know that she wouldn’t try anything as stupid. The thought of of her attempting to take him out with the crane definitely crossed his mind even before he gave her the suggestion did cross his mind. So there was a part of him was a bit surprised when she called out to him, warning him about the incoming crane. Despite the surprise he felt, it didn’t show on his face. Not that it mattered. Everyone standing before him was busy looking at the crane coming up behind him to even notice.
After sheathing his swords and timing his jump perfectly, Marcus spun around, leapt in the air and and grabbed onto a corner rope and hoisted himself onto the wildly swinging crane. His footing slipped ever so slightly and it was enough to jostle him, but not enough to sending him clumsily falling off the platform. Instead Marcus hung on for dear life and let Anna take the reigns. He watched with a dark sort of glee as Navymen were knocked left and right by their makeshift wrecking ball. He almost chuckled when one clumsily flopped onto the platform before being unceremoniously kicked off. However, the moment amusement was short lived because within a matter of seconds, Marcus had leapt off the platform and back onto the outskirts of docks where he immediately began taking out the remaining Navymen blocking the alleyways his crew were running through.
Daniel Wu – August Man (May 2017) [x]
What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?
“Having the lot of you come up to me at random points in the day asking what I’m afraid of or which one of you lot is my ‘favorite’.”
Which is cooler: unicorns or dragons?
“Dragons. They can fly and breathe fire or other elements depending on what lore you’re pulling from.”
anna-romwell:
Anna tilted her head in confusion over the “wrecking ball action,” comment, but after following his gaze to the crane, the meaning behind his words became clear. “On it,” she replied with a devious little grin, “Keep them busy for me?” It was more of a rhetorical question than an actual request– Anna knew Marcus would provide plenty of distraction while she slipped away. Most of the authorities were focused on him, afterall, seeing his skills with a sword as much more of a threat than Anna’s blades.
After waiting a moment for the perfect opening, she swiftly turned heel and disappeared into the fray, bobbing and weaving in the direction of the crane. She climbed up its ladder, made her way to the control rods, and immediately began fiddling with the levers. It took a few tries, the crane bobbing up and down like an indecisive bird, before suddenly swinging in the right direction. With a massive crate in its clutches and the authorities lined up like bowling pins, this was sure to be a hilarious sight.
“With pleasure,” Marcus replied. While Marcus was always stoic, his expression rarely seeming to change unless someone was paying close attention, in this moment a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips and lingered there long enough for every Navy personel in front of him to take a step backwards, unsure and fearful of the man who had been knocking them down left and right would do.
Without warning, Marcus rushed forward and suddenly there were sprays of blood everywhere, the clanging of metal against metal, and suddenly bodies were dropping down to the wooden docks in a crumpled mess. Up until this point, Marcus had been playing with the lot of them. Up until this point they were lucky, even those who had their legs or arms unceremoniously cut off because even then there was some mercy in his actions. He let them live. But not anymore, everywhere he went, Marcus would cut down a body dressed in a Navy uniform one right after the other. Marcus had no qualms about killing official soldiers, he was a pirate and had killed many more people before he even stepped foot on The Spectre as teenager. However, despite all his effort and precision, Marcus was still holding back considerably. He took out an opponent and took several steps back, drawing the men further down the docks in an effort to line them up for Anna. When the time was right, he would dive out of the way.
What's something someone told you that really influenced you (positively or negatively)?
“You are a cold blooded killing machine… and you truly are the best at what you do…Can’t say they were wrong. Can’t say whether or not it’s a good or bad thing either.”
Favorite mythological story?
“I can’t remember the details very well, but there was this myth I heard of as a boy of this person that would walk the land and everywhere they went, flowers and life would bloom from their footsteps. It was a nice myth, especially on a planet that didn’t have much in the way of wildlife after what the people did to it.”
Do you believe everything happens for a reason? Why or why not?
“If by that you mean that I believe that everything we do has direct consequences that influence our future, then yes. It only makes sense.”
What are a few of your insecurities?
“Quite the forward question and while I admire your directness, this is not something I wish to speak of with anyone.”
If you had infinite pockets, what would you carry with you at all times?
“Knives, swords, smoke bombs for cover and quick escapes. Oh, and couple of snacks.”
What do you get like when you're drunk? (Or sleep-deprived?)
“I rarely get drunk. In fact I don’t remember the last time I did. But if I don’t get enough sleep, it’s hard for me to form sentences… and I get quieter… than usual. According to others, at least.”
Have you ever been given an important task you thought was too much for you?
“No. If a task is important to me then I’ll see it done to to the very end.”
Daniel Wu for Esquire Hong Kong, April 2017
