MOVED TO LIVEDTOUGH

indie marcos díaz from the gifted est. 2.27.19 #ecliipsed

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PINNED POST!

Hi! This is an independent, non-exclusive roleplay blog for Marcos Díaz from Marvel’s The Gifted, written and adored by Jamie (25+, est, they/them). Discord is available on request for whoever wants it.

I am now using the beta editor!

RULES / ABOUT

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its time. im gonna work on moving marcos to my multi. more information will come when he's ready. 💞

[setitallaflame]

Months passed, and Reagan couldn’t look back at them. She couldn’t think about them, or what happened during them, she had to push forward. To recover. And she wanted to find Marcos. Her mind was eventually able to regain all of the memories that Dreamer had taken, but it was too late. The Atlanta station - along with a lot of the other stations - had been destroyed. He, along with everyone else she remembered, had been declared dead. But there had been signs, stories, and they had given her hope when she needed it the most that he was still out there. Now she just had to find him. And while her powers had grown in ways that she didn’t even understand yet, her brain had not. So it took what felt like forever to put all of the pieces together while not drawing any attention to her or them, to finally figure out where he - along with what she was praying were the other members of the Atlanta station - were hiding out.

Reagan lifted her hand in an attempt to telekinetically open the door to the junkyard but then thought better of it. She’d been gone for a long time, and if John was there he’d probably heard her by now, putting the others on high alert. She didn’t want what was supposed to be a reunion with her brother and her friends to turn into a superpower throw down. So she called out, “Glo Worm, it’s me.” Then she instantly felt someone attempt to enter her mind - no, not just enter it. Break through it. That had her telekinetically opening the door, putting her face to face with the last person she thought she’d see with the Underground. She telepathically pushed back at Esme (maybe?) as hard as she could before telekinetically slamming her backwards into the wall, “Child of the Corn, was it? I wouldn’t try that again.” She held her there while looking around, happy tears filling her eyes at the sight of all of the people in front of her until she realized... “...Marcos? Where’s Clarice? Where’s Reed? What happened?”

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She was right to think that they were on alert. Of course, these days they were rarely anything else, but they were well hidden here, and most alarms were false ones. This time, though, he wasn't sure. There was someone here, and everyone was on edge. Marcos was on edge, hands flexed, preparing to attack. He would do whatever he had to to keep his family safe, the same way he had countless times before. Whatever, whoever, walked through the door, he'd meet them, and he would win. He was tired of loss, of stepping away from people he cared about. He wouldn't lose anyone again, not now.

But then came the voice, the voice he'd missed, the voice he would never forget, and his hands dropped, his guard dropped, and his heart soared. After everything bad that had happened, every amount of loss and pain, her voice was a balm, a gift. He hadn't allowed himself to dwell on how much he'd missed her, how worried he was about her, but now that she was here, every ounce of that worry turned into relief. He went to her, pushing past the rest of them. There was no aggression in his actions, but only that of a man who had lost so much getting back one of the things he loved most. He barely noticed Esme against the wall--he'd have to apologize to her for all of this later--as he went to her. "It's okay, Esme," he said to her as he approached, though he forgot about her quickly. He moved, quickly stepping to Reagan and taking her into his arms. He held her close, and perhaps a little too tightly, but he didn't care. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, but he hoped desperately that she was okay, that this could be one thing that went right. "Reagan," he muttered. "I'll explain everything. Don't worry. Are you okay?"

[holyblcd]

benjamín nodded even though he never would truly understand what it felt like having so many people depending on you. hell, he could barely trust himself. " yeah. it can't be easy being a leader all the time. i don't know how you do it. how you are able to keep fighting, keep protecting, keep trying. you, lorna and john amaze me all the damn time. no wonder you guys are the leaders. " the corners of his mouth were raised, but only a little, forming an almost invisible smile on lips lips. " but i guess this makes you a bit more relatable, knowing that you also feel like giving up all the time. it makes you vulnerable. complex. a living being. it's also what makes you a great leader. "

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He wasn't trying to make him feel in any way like he couldn't understand, like his position as leader put him in some higher place that was more than literal. He may have been part of the circle that made the decisions for the station, but he thought everyone here could relate to the core struggle of the fight to not quit. He nodded, arms crossing before his chest. "It's hard, but knowing that all of you rely on us makes it easier." Or, if nothing else, it took away the choice. "We know you need us, and we can't let you down." The compliment warmed him, and he smiled lightly. "Besides, we can't let you down when you think of us so highly, can we?" Another beat, and his smile softened. "Good. I don't want to be unreachable, you know?"

[holyblcd]

MUTATION: it is the key to our evolution. it has enabled us to evolve from a single-celled organism into the dominant species on the planet. this process is slow, and normally taking thousands and thousands of years. but every few hundred millennia, evolution leaps forward. INDEPENDENT and PRIVATE multimuse featuring benjamín minguez haden and michelle courtet (x-men original characters). fandoms includes fallout, jurassic park, one piece, god of war, sandman, dragon age and more! written by kristina.

[setitallaflame]

“Which is exactly what I just said,” Lucan replied. “And I respect it. Whether you have moments where you lose that hope or not, I see how hard you work to appear consistent in how you feel around the people staying here. I see how they look to you, and how you respond to that. It comes with your job, and you do it. But it doesn’t come with mine. People don’t look at me like that. If anything, they avoid me unless they need something from me, and that’s worked out just fine for everyone involved. Different jobs require different things. Which brings me back to my original point: I don’t want to be a leader, and I don’t want to be a station head. I just want to keep doing what I’m already doing.” He then nodded when Marcos said he was a soldier, and that he understood because he’d been a soldier himself, and that he would just let him be that moving forward. “...I told Evangeline I would come in and do what I was told, go where I was told, healing people and picking up the slack at whatever stations I was at. That’s all I want to do.” That was all he was capable of doing. As for his resume, he commented, “I can fight, I can heal people, and I’m a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to station work. I think my ‘resume’ is just fine.”

Lucan nodded again, “I know you do. Which is why - despite how he’s currently acting - we have to treat him like any other kid. Because this place is fine for them to get out of dodge, to recover from whatever’s happened to them, but ultimately they have to keep moving. They have to get across borders, they have to go somewhere they’ll be able to put down roots. Which means if they don’t come in with a family, they have to leave with one - especially when they’re this young. There are no other options.” Marcos then mentioned that he thought they had a few spare cots, and he responded, “Let me grab my jacket for him to lay on and we can try putting him down.”

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Despite the fact that they'd spent the day at most yelling at each other, and at least on the verge of doing so, the way that Lucan complimented him made something inside of him warm. He didn't do his job for the glory, for compliments or affection, but he was only human, and sometimes it was nice to be told that he was doing a good job, that everything he did wasn't in vain. It was just part of his job, though, and he thought he did a good job. Maybe he should have thanked him for the words, but he didn't. He could have continued to press the issue, but it was clear enough at this point that Lucan didn't have any interest in developing a bedside manner, and he wasn't going to. Nothing Marcos said was going to change his mind, and nothing Lucan said was going to change his mind, either. Let him dig his own grave, Marcos thought. Or, if not his grave, at the very least a hole to hide in. "I guess that's fair enough," he said, finally allowing him the point. The back and forth was clearly useless, and it wasn't really all that pressing. It was his life. He could live it how he wanted. "I get it. I've been there. I guess I just don't want you to close yourself off." A pause, and a shrug, "But it's your life. I guess I've just gotta let you live it."

Marcos nodded in response to what he said about the kid. It felt cold, but he knew he was right. They couldn't give this one special treatment, as much as they--or, rather, Marcos--might want to. They just didn't have the resources to do so. It was better for everyone if he went somewhere that did. "I'm not arguing with you. I know the way things work here, you don't have to convince me. I just want to get him to stop crying." He had no illusions of keeping him, so to speak. He just wanted to take care of him while he was in their care, as much as he wanted to get him to the next stop on his journey. He nodded in response to Lucan, exhaling a soft breath. He just hoped they could figure this out.

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the internet’s out and i don’t know when it will be back :( will return when I can! in the meantime, you can find me on d.iscord @ lokit5083

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internet's back!!! yay!!!

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the internet’s out and i don’t know when it will be back :( will return when I can! in the meantime, you can find me on d.iscord @ lokit5083

[setitallaflame]

“No, they don’t,” Tristan replied with a shake of his head, “But they keep happening. And it makes you wonder - what will we look like in 50 years? In 100 years? How will we have evolved? Normally, evolution... It’s to adapt to the environment, right? To survive. But dragons, and dreamwalkers, and flamethrowers... Like you said, it doesn’t make sense. Still, maybe we’re adapting for things we don’t even realize are already in motion. That we can’t even comprehend yet.” He then nodded, “I know it is. We have every kind of mutant come through our doors - men and women, young and old, rich and poor, visible and non-visible, all walks of life. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter; we’re the enemy. But it’s hard to look at her...” He gestured to his sister, a child soundly asleep, curling into herself as she had since the day their parents brought her home. “...and understand that. Not saying that it’s the first time I’ve ever thought that but, as I’m sure you know, it’s harder when it’s someone you love. And I do have to worry about it. Because at the end of the day, Sam is part of a larger unit. One that won’t be separated, and I don’t know what that will mean for us.”

Tristan shrugged, “I would’ve taken a job at another firm. Kept doing what I could to blend in, to come off as human so that I could protect my family, but... It wouldn’t have been enough. It wouldn’t have felt like enough. Because I feel connected to our people, because I’ve wanted to help for a long time... Evangeline gave me that. It might not be in the way that I expected, and it’s messy - everything about this war is - but... We’ve worked to save lives. To get people to you, to make sure they’re protected. And I need to do that. What about you? What do you think you would’ve done if the Underground hadn’t approached you?” He then listened as Marcos explained, while different, there were others that could make light. Others that had some powers that compared to John or Clarice or Lorna, but again, were unique in their own way. As for his comment about Lorna, he only met the man’s gaze briefly, not saying a word, but he did, indeed, know enough. “...Once the baby arrives, I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Trust me, they all have different needs...”

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He wasn't necessarily looking for an answer, but he was glad enough that the other man seemed to agree with him. He knew he was right, of course, that one day it was possible that every ability they had might evolve into something needed, but they were at the stages in the evolution now where the purpose, for some, hadn't quite been made clear. "I never really had time to learn the science of it all. I mean, I know what everyone does, but...like you say, it makes you think. Maybe our bodies know something that's coming that we don't." Which wasn't necessarily a reassuring thought, but he supposed he could be comforted in the idea that his body would protect him, that he had been given the abilities to protect himself. He understood what he said, about it being difficult to understand that his sister was the enemy. He may not have had it happen to him at a personal level, but, like him, he'd seen people from all walks of life come into the Underground, and none of them had been monsters. They were all just people. "I know." He reached out to give Tristan a pat on the shoulder, something reassuring, almost brotherly. "I get it, man. It just doesn't get any easier." Which he knew the other man knew, of course, but it was worth saying either way. "Alright, but try not to worry about it now, okay? We've got enough on our plates."

He nodded, listening to Tristan as he spoke. He was a good man, he thought, with a good heart. "I think this fight would be easier if we had more people like you," he said. "People on the inside. I mean, we've got our lawyers, but we could always use more. But most of us are just people, and I don't blame them for just trying to survive." As for what he would be doing, he sighed softly. He didn't like to talk about it, but he was willing to, because Tristan had offered so much. "I don't know. I was in the Cartel, you know? I was starting to think about getting out when John found me, but if he hadn't...I don't know. I might still be in there, or maybe they'd have killed me when I tried to go. Honestly, I'm not sure how I got out as it is." It wasn't egotistical to say that he'd been important. He knew a lot of things that could get a lot of people in trouble. He wasn't going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, though. He smiled lightly as it was insisted that he would think of something, and he didn't really doubt him. "Then I'll let you know."