weird fishes

marcus "MARS" moran. forty-one. seabrook quarter resident. owner of pinball wizard arcade.

[marsmoran]

MARS MORAN

full name: marcus "mars" john moran

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

birthday & birthplace: december 21, 1982 (41); boston, ma

location: seabrook quarter

time in aurora bay: 20 years

sexuality: bisexual

occupation: owner of pinball wizard arcade

@aurorabayaesthetic

about.

drugs, alcoholism, substance abuse tws

mars is the youngest of five boys — no joke — all named marcus, after their dad marcus. it was a bizarre decision on the part of his parents, but it certainly reflected their parenting style, which could generously be called "hands-off" but could less generously be described as not giving a fuck. they were catholic enough to not believe in contraception until they had their fifth marcus and decided enough was enough.

both of his parents struggled with alcoholism and substance abuse issues, and his brothers were no help; it was every man for himself in their house, with the five of them often getting into fights over the best places to hide whenever one or both of their parents were in a rage.

by the time mars was seven, he was already fed up with his parents referring to him and his brothers by a number, so he started going exclusively by "mars" (MAR5, get it?).

he and his brothers were active shoplifters, and they were pulling mars into their schemes around the same time he'd given himself a new name. he learned how to lie and charm very quickly (the two are basically synonymous to him now), and his strategies for stealing went back and forth between distracting people because he was a cute kid and slipping in and out without getting caught. he was the runt of the litter, but he learned how to use it to advantage

he finished middle school but just didn't show up for his first day of freshman year, then never went back to school again. his parents didn't give a fuck about truancy calls, and the school he was supposed to be going to wasn't great anyway, so they never followed up. instead, he spent his days loafing around boston and, at sixteen, dealing — which he was fantastic at

he was so good that he actually managed to make a good amount of money for himself, and at eighteen he bought the cheapest thing he could find in a used car lot, packed a single backpack, and drove away

he spent three years just driving around the country, spending money pretty much only on gas, food to sustain himself, and motel rooms when he desperately needed a real bed to sleep in and a shower. sometimes he'd spend extended periods in one place, picking up odd jobs to recoup some more cash before he hit the road again. (he'd also stolen a pound of coke from his supplier before he left boston, so he also sold that for as long as he could).

at the end of year three, when he was twenty-one, he finally made it to the other side of the country in that same terrible car, which was already held together by duct tape and fell apart almost as soon as he rolled into town. he didn't want to buy a new car, so he figured he would stay a while. he used the rest of his money to put down a few months rent at a trailer park outside of town and took random jobs while also figuring out some way to find a supplier in LA so he could start dealing in AB (mostly to the rich people in AB drive, tbh)

and he just ended up...never leaving. he found he liked california, which was so unlike where he'd grown up. he went from job to job while dealing on the side, never getting caught

until he did get caught. he was meeting a buyer in the arcade, but it was intercepted by the owner, an old, take-no-shit lesbian named angie, who told him she wouldn't call the police as long as he never stepped foot in the place again

he stayed away for weeks, before he was finally compelled to go back in and actually thank her for not ratting him out. and she did almost call the cops on him as soon as she saw his face, but then his old charm kicked in, and he was able to talk her down and offer to buy her a drink

angie basically adopted him after that. she was mean, never put up with his shit, and didn't mince her words about him needing to get his life together, but that's sort of what he needed. at least he knew she cared. eventually, he stopped dealing and sort of nepo babied his way into an assistant manager job at the arcade. after a while, he was able to move out of the trailer park to ocean crest.

angie died when he was thirty-five, and for reasons he still doesn't understand, he left most of her money and the arcade to him, with a note that just told him not to fuck it up. that's failing UP, baby

he's been trying not to fuck it up ever since. he moved out of ocean crest to a little house in seabrook. he can barely comprehend how straight he's gone, but he'd be lying if he said that little, long-dormant kernel of chaos didn't tempt him to puncture his nice blanket of peace sometimes

family.

mother: catherine moran (nee mcdonald)

father: marcus moran

brothers: marcus moran, marcus moran, marcus moran, marcus moran

tidbits.

a gremlin!! a liar and an idiot and a gremlin!!

he still steals shit, but has actually grown a conscience about it and stays away from small businesses. big box stores he'll swipe from all the live long day

definitely bought crypto (dogecoin, specifically). still thinks it'll bounce back. also was big into the entire gamestop sitch

BIG gamer. spends lots of saturday nights yelling at randos over discord while playing helldivers

subscribes heavily to the 'don't get high on your own supply' motto. he actually doesn't really indulge in drugs aside from weed (anymore. he definitely used to)

he hasn't seen or heard from most of his family since he left boston, but marcus 2 (who'd also broken away from their family after mars did) actually managed to track him down a few years ago. they talk occasionally

still doesn't own a car. instead he has a dumb little moped that he thinks he looks awesome on

angie's note is framed and hanging on the wall behind the counter at the arcade

connections.

pseudo uncle to @ulyflynn

spiritual cousins w/ @santiagodeleons

rat dad/rat son @aiden-stevens

former friends/was indirectly the cause of @samucl-kane's relapse

frenemies w/ benefits of @joey-madani

disgruntled employer of @maura-cortes, less disgruntled employer of @macaulaymontgomery

next door neighbor/frequent botherer of @delilahcarreno, also a last last last resort babysitter for her son

@xaviermattthews' former dealer 😬

former coworker (they shared the same supplier aslkjdfl) of @silascody

whatever this is w/ @bazhowletts

[delilahcarreno]

Delilah: However will I cope. 🙄 Delilah: What's the definition of "lightly rob"? Delilah: Tempting... Delilah: But still no. Delilah: And sorry but that's all you're getting from me tonight. I've already said too much.

[marsmoran]

Mars: Oh, you know. Just a couple of necessities. Toilet paper, detergent, cigarettes. Had to be slippery about that last one though. Mars: Oh my god, Delilah. Mars: You're ruining my fun. Mars: You're not really about to make me come out there to see this myself. @delilahcarreno

[ulyflynn]

"Not Sonny," Uly informs, though it was a good guess, "That slippery fucker will see a 100."

Unless he ended up back on meth, then forty-three would most likely be a stretch -- it was a hard one to call, which was most likely what made him a hard one to kill.

He picks up one half of his sandwich carefully, the contents already trying to slip out but he salvages a piece of tomato by gripping the bread tighter. It's tempting to let Mars keep guessing, but given the revolving door of death-suited folks who had been through the trailer park they had both once called home, they could be there for the next week.

"Jason, you know the one with the fucked up eye who got me that part for my bike when it was fucked. Said he came off his and click," He throws his head back and imitates the motion of a skull hitting something solid, stopping short of his own hitting the living room wall, "Brains all over the highway, cracked that shit like a melon. I don't buy it though. He was too good on those wheels to go out like that."

@marsmoran

[marsmoran]

"Hmmm." Mars frowned, irked that he'd gotten it wrong. It wasn't that he wanted Sonny dead, necessarily, but the guy used to beg him to spot a few eighths ("I'm good for it, man, I swear") every other week, therefore getting him in trouble with his dealer just as often, and a rare Mars grudge ran deep.

He watched Uly reenact Jason's alleged end attentively, but his hand still slipped in to steal the other half of his sandwich when his head was as far back as it could go.

Mars was talking around white bread, ham, and cheese when he said, "Yeah, no, that doesn't sound right. Only a bullet or alcohol poisoning would take that lucky asshole out. Who'd you get this info from?"

@ulyflynn

[xoimani]

who? @aurorabaystarter

Where? Choose your own adventure

Imani had spent the day filling her suitcase. And her backpack. And her purse. Old shoes, old clothing, old jewelry, anything she could fit in on her person. It was one thing to pack them all.. it was another to walk herself to the thrift store carrying it all. The suitcase wheels continued to get caught on every uneven part of the sidewalk, flipping over ever few feet, making her stop to correct it. She was at wits end when it finally flipped over again, causing her to start kicking the bag. "What are you looking at!" She said snapping at the person who had stopped to look at her.

[marsmoran]

Mars was posted up outside the arcade for a smoke break, his back against the brick wall as he watched a woman struggle her way toward the thrift shop down the street with way too many bags. A better person probably would've offered to help, but Mars was content just to watch and wonder if she was actually going to make it there without losing anything in the process.

He shrugged, blowing smoke up. "You, I guess. Placing mental bets on how long it'll take you to give up and drag all of this shit back home. You've actually lasted longer than I expected so far."

@xoimani

[delilahcarreno]

Delilah: What about my house being completed decorated made you think that I was above all that bullshit? Delilah: Just one of the many, many Glinda's that showed up tonight. Is this how it felt being the 5th Marcus? Delilah: It's a miracle that most of the time you're dressed period. Delilah: And sorry, but I don't think you can afford my going rate. Delilah: I am feeling generous tonight though so I guess I'll tell you that he actually got 2nd place in the couples category.

[marsmoran]

Mars: I don't know! I thought maybe you were just doing all that shit for Theo's sake. Mars: Apologies for thinking highly of you, it won't happen again. Mars: Are the Glindas all going to lightly rob a convenience store together? That'd have to happen for you to even scratch the surface of what it means to be a Marcus. Mars: I'd be willing to offer a bribe. Free lawn mowing services, even. Mars: No fucking way. Mars: With who?? @delilahcarreno

[delilahcarreno]

Delilah: Do you want the truth or would you like me to lie? Delilah: It's probably not too late for you to change your mind. I've seen your wardrobe, I'm sure there's a costume to be pieced together in there somewhere. Delilah: Fair warning that if you do come to maybe keep the Santiago comments to yourself. His costume includes a Mothman sized net but could easily be multipurpose.

[marsmoran]

Mars: Fuuuuck. I thought you were above all that bullshit. Mars: What'd you go as? Mars: I don't like what you're suggesting right now. I'm impeccably dressed. Mars: God. Will you PLEASE get a picture for me. I'll literally pay you. @delilahcarreno

[cvrdelia]

"All I'm hearing is that you want to kiss me, and I mean, I wouldn't blame you. I have an effect on people." Cordelia replied, humorously. Although, judging by the other patreons that had attended the primarily Groupon funded event, she'd hold herself in a higher regard looks-wise than most.

"A challenge is a challenge, and life's too short to wait around and wonder about the consequences." Despite wishing that the consequence hadn't been smelling like the inside of a poorly cleaned stable. "You've got to make life exciting, right?"

For a moment, she did wonder whether he would insist she take the twenty. However, she was pleasantly surprised to see that he accepted her first refusal - although, it became evident very quickly that his money would be spent on her in some way tonight as he agreed to her proposal.

"Must be nice for you to have money to flush away, hot shot." She said, as if she hadn't had the same thought. Twenty, fifty, a hundred, she'd wouldn't have minded casting it to the wind if he meant she could have something her tastebuds actually enjoyed. "But okay, you lead the way, sir." She gestured towards the exit. Perhaps, this would be fun.

"I'm Cordelia. Some people call me Cordy, or Delia. You can pick your poison." However, she took a moment to lean in close with a devilish smirk. "Or you can wait and see whatever comes out of your mouth when I'm on top."

@marsmoran

[marsmoran]

"Oh, have I not made that totally clear yet? Because, yeah, kissing you sounds...agreeable. Dare I say, dope. I mean, look at ya. That's a nice face you got there." It came out as close to nonchalant as Mars could've hoped for, even when he was physically restraining himself from jumping up and down with glee at the vibes he was getting here.

"I've always said that," he agreed, holding up his now empty glass in a toast to her. He hadn't, but it was a pretty decent summation of his general life philosophy.

"Well, you're lookin' at the proud owner of the Pinball Wizard Arcade, southern California's premiere destination for the oldest, stickiest arcade games this side of the Mississippi. I've got cash to burn," he said as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed toward the exit, giving a two-fingered salute to one of the servers who turned to look at them, confused.

He paused as she leaned in and moved half an inch closer, and his eyes widened comically as his brain took a second to process what she'd just said. He turned his head to look at her, maintaining a somewhat inappropriate distance, and cleared his throat, the nonchalant mask he was wearing suddenly splintering a bit. Holy fuck. All he could muster at that was a weak, "I'll call us a car."

@cvrdelia

[delilahcarreno]

"I don't even want to know."

Though knowing all of what she did about him, which she would argue was too much, Delilah was confident that whatever had lead Marcus to the middle of a "girl fight" had at least been well deserved. She couldn't say that a small part of her didn't wish that she'd been there to witness it.

She's sure Joey would share a similar sentiment.

"Gary." She supplies their neighbor's name easily, though it's unclear whether he hears her or not as he barrels through the rest of his sentence. "I'm afraid to ask what it is if that I've done to be bestowed such an honor."

Whatever it was, it couldn't bode well for her--unless she somewhere in the future found herself in the need of eggs, apparently.

"I thought you've been trying to tell me for years that one day I'm going to wake up and realize you're the man of my dreams?" Her eyes rolled, but the joint is handed back to him at his request.

It was probably for the best, anyways. She really did have things to do today before Theo came home from Raf's, though what those things were exactly had already become difficult to recall.

"I take it your parents are still together?" It wasn't lost on her how rare it'd felt that hers had still been. Had her father not passed last year, next month would've been their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Delilah hadn’t even made it to five.

For a second, she considers her answer to Marcus's question, chin balanced atop her folded hands.

"Not balding." She says, definitively. "I guess it could be divorce, but it'd take a few generations to find out, since I'm the first to get one." Though what exactly she'd have done to bring that curse on her family before said divorce was a mystery to Delilah. All of her biggest mistakes had come only after she and Rafael had called it quits. "If it's what we have the most of? Then it's probably secrets."

The Wells were certainly plagued with them. Babies and cancer diagnoses and God only knows what else.

"Some kept better than others. I’d stick with the skinny calves, personally."

@marsmoran

[marsmoran]

"Are you sure? It's a good story." At least, the one Mars was ready to make up on the spot would be; he'd make sure of it. The real one probably would've gotten a laugh out of her, but it wasn't one of his finer moments. He might've been little too comfortable humiliating himself sometimes, but if he was going to do it, it had to have a better punchline than him walking around with an eye patch for a week.

Gary, okay. That one definitely wouldn't stick in his brain. He shrugged and gestured vaguely at Delilah. "Well, you're, you know. Hot."

She was also a good neighbor and good company, though god knew that she didn't have to be. He'd never really had many friends, and although he wasn't sure if Delilah would necessarily use that word to describe their relationship, he appreciated good conversation, which she brought in spades.

"I've been trying to tell you a lot of things for years. It's not my fault that you never listen to me."

The joint was pretty much gone at this point, so he stubbed it out against the bottom of his shoe and pocketed what was left, only to retrieve a pen from the same pocket.

"Last I heard," he confirmed, twirling the pen between his fingers. "I haven't talked to them in, what, twenty years? But if they were gonna split up, they should've done it after Marcus 2. But they're Catholics. They made a very sacred pact in front of God."

It was funny that divorce and, for a long time, contraception had been beyond the pale for his parents when their entire lives revolved around other behaviors any deity or church would condemn. It was still confusing, but it'd been years since he bothered to dwell on it.

"Secrets," he repeated, intrigued. Though awful and destructive in their own way, his family had never really bothered with secrets. They wore every awful and destructive thing about them on their sleeves. "Interesting. Sounds like a couple of 'em have come back to bite you in the ass."

@delilahcarreno

[marsmoran]

the high priestess

02.  the high priestess  :  how does your muse make decisions ? do they trust their instinct or would they rather trust their heart / their logic ?

"God, instinct. Easy. My gut's a lot more reliable than my brain. There's way too much dust and Fornite up there for me to listen to anything it's got to say."

[marsmoran]

16. the tower : what event drastically changed your muse’s life ? do they resent that event or are they glad of it ?

"Leaving Boston was the big daddy of 'em all, I think. No regrets about that, though, never. If I hadn't gotten outta there, I'd'a been dead in a ditch in Back Bay a long time ago."

[marsmoran]

04. the emperor : how much respect does your muse have for authority ? why is this ?

"Is that a real question you're actually asking me? Me?"

[marsmoran]

mars 📲 delilah

Mars: Please don't tell me you're at this Monster Mash shit. Mars: I sat it out because I figured I'd be the oldest guy in the room but then I found out Santiago had that covered. Mars: And now I'm getting FOMO. @delilahcarreno

[aiden-stevens]

Aiden figures rain isn't of concern in the state of sunny California, even though that would be his first argument. Then the bugs. Ah, well, not his problem.

“Like what?” Aiden challenges without missing a beat. “My car is immaculate. Doesn’t look it, but I take care of it.” 

As best as he can. If Mars was to get behind the wheel of his car, the most offending thing would be the smell of stale cigarettes and the Monster can in the middle console filled with butts. The scattered burn marks in the seats aren’t the biggest issue.

Aiden opens his mouth to start some sort of verbal protest, but the yank of the collar of his shirt reduces it to a yell of sorts. It is accompanied by the pointless flail of Aiden’s arms until he’s sprung back to his feet, and he glare down his nose at Mars.

“Who ya calling a ‘little shit’, because if it’s me, that makes you a dingleberry on account of you being smaller than me.”

It’s not his greatest, but Aiden’s satisfied with it. He flees the scene to head out the way he’d come in.

@marsmoran

[marsmoran]

"Dingleberry?" Mars asked incredulously, before Aiden wrenched himself from Mars' grasp and bolted for the exit. "You little—"

With a roll of his eyes, he did a last, quick survey of the arcade before following Aiden through the storage room, picking up his backpack on the way. He fumbled with his keys to secure the back door as he watched Aiden's form retreat further down the alleyway.

"Hey, motherfucker!" he called, giving the handle a few shakes to make sure that it was locked. "If you want me to drive, where the fuck do you think you're going? You're real funny if you think I'm gonna chase after you then give you a ride home. Get back here and give me the keys or you're shit outta luck."

To put a finer point on it, he crossed his arms and stayed put by the door, tapping his foot on the concrete like a disapproving parent.

"Also, dingleberry? Are you fuckin' serious, man?"

@aiden-stevens

[samucl-kane]

CLOSED STARTER for @marsmoran at Driftwood

Sam has been there, sitting at a corner table closer to the entrance, for what feels like eternity. He showed up early of his own volition, wanting to ease himself into the thought of meeting with Mars.

Here, and not the All Nighter, as per his request, as the All Nighter is his and Will's spot to meet. He doesn't need to taint it with any feelings of uneasiness.

The nerves that tangle beneath his skin now aren't for any ill feelings toward Mars, though. Sam is embarrassed. It's as simple as that. It would be irrational to hold anything against him, even if at the very beginning, his blame started there. As he'd been told, or rather, the answer he had been guided toward revealed it was a projection of his own lapses in judgment, but it didn't make him any less comfortable.

He draws in one deep breath, his eyes drawn to the spots of coffee in the lid of his to-go cup, the inside contents too cold to enjoy now. It's for the umpteenth time the bell at the front door commands his attention, and this time, the person he'd been waiting for passes through the threshold.

"I just got here early so you haven't kept me waiting." The smile that crosses his face doesn't reach his eyes. "You can order, I won't sneak out on you."

[marsmoran]

Mars had, unquestionably, made a lot of bad decisions in his life. An argument could be made that his entire life was just a string of bad decisions, and a little bit of luck and white guy privilege were the only things that had led to the comfortable position he was in now.

It wasn't that he was incapable of regret — god knew that he had a lot of things to be regretful about — but it was certainly an easy enough emotion to dismiss at this point.

But Sam was a different story. Mars had considered chickening out of this meeting multiple times, even though he'd been the one to propose it in the first place, because it'd been different with Sam. Mars had actually been pretty meticulous when he was dealing, keeping all of his pennies counted, making sure that everything was accounted for and then locked away. But the one time he slipped up...

He approached the table Sam had taken a spot at not knowing what to do with himself. Uncertainty — that was rare for Mars too. He raised a hand and shot a smile that probably looked more like a grimace as he neared, before shrugging off his jacket as he got the table.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, sure," he said quickly, leaving his jacket on the back of his chair before going over to the register and placing an order for a cup of black coffee, his fingers tapping at the top of his thigh impatiently as he waited.

Cup in tow, he returned to the table and sat down, looking at Sam hesitantly as his leg started to bounce anxiously. "Thanks for agreeing to this. It's, uh. Good to see you. How are you?"

@samucl-kane

[cricketcampbell]

As soon as the neighboring table's attention turned away from their improvised brother-sister act (an inspired performance, if she did say so herself), Cricket was snatching her hand out from under Mars's patronizing pats in favor of reaching towards their shared cheese plate.

"You don't get it." She scoffed around a fig cracker. "It's not just about the wine--it's the whole experience. The music and the scenery and the--the ambiance! You're already just, like, so determined to make fun of it that you won't even give yourself the chance to possibly enjoy it."

It not referring specifically, of course, to the glass of wine she couldn't even bring herself to swallow. Cricket would be a little more concerned about how perfectly he'd nailed the horse shit descriptor had she not been preoccupied with the disgusted looks suddenly turned her way.

"It's part of the process." She offered to the same table from before, batting Mars's finger away without sparing him a glance. "The sixth S, it's like...a super advanced technique." See, swirl, sniff, sip, savor, and now spit, apparently. "Really develops the palette...wouldn't you say, Mars?"

And in case he needed extra prompting, her foot found his shin beneath the table in a swift kick.

@marsmoran

[marsmoran]

"Oh, yeah? Is that what they teach you in culinary school?" Mars asked, his voice becoming pinched and mocking at the end of his sentence. "Of course I'm determined to make fun of it, because it deserves to be made fun of. This whole thing is an elaborate psy op."

He looked around disdainfully at what was actually a pretty pleasant scene. The windows opened to a view of the ocean, a violin cover of some Ariana Grande song was playing lightly over the speakers, and the light, polite chatter of the other patrons was just loud enough that he didn't have to listen to the music.

God, he didn't belong here.

He was reaching for a piece of parmesan — that, he could get behind — when a sharp pain went up his leg and he yelped loudly, drawing even more eyes that before. He ignored her question and prompting entirely in order to level a glare at her, but not before tossing the cheese into his mouth. "The fuck was that for, you psycho?"

@cricketcampbell

[marsmoran]

What would be your muse's last words be if they died right now?

"Well, if there's foul play involved, probably, 'good for you, motherfucker.' If there's not, then... 'see you in hell.'"

[cvrdelia]

Cordelia rolled her eyes at his remarks, but she wouldn't deny he was funny - and it wouldn't be the first time she'd have been laughed into bed before. "Ha ha." She said in response, as her fingers tapped against the stem of the wine glass. "Well, I definitely wouldn't be kissing you after you've just tasted that horse shit wine."

However, she wasn't really one to talk, when her mouth was about to be filled with the same vile liquid. Once she'd finished her 'challenge' and the taste slowly had started to leave her tongue, she was suddenly able to genuninely give him a smile. A proud one. "Told you. I'm not a wuss." She teased.

When he brought out the twenty, she could only laugh. "Oh no, you don't really have to give me anything. I mean, the satisfication of besting you is enough." She tilted her head. "But... you could use it to get me a drink in an actual wine bar, when we're done tasting hell in liquid form."

@marsmoran

[marsmoran]

Ah, so no drink to the face. That was a nice surprise, and Mars was momentarily glad that he'd tried that line on someone with a good sense of humor. "But you're about to drink it too, aren't you? If both of our mouths taste like horse shit, it kind of cancels itself, no?"

He turned his glass over into the spit bucket, shaking his head. "Nope, you're definitely not a wuss. I respect anyone with that kind of 'no one calls me chicken' mentality. You're a woman after my own heart."

A better person might've insisted that she take the money — a bet was a bet — but Mars took his bill back without hesitation. As he was stuffing it back in his wallet and the proposition was put forward, his eyes shot back up to her, his hands freezing in place. Alright, dude, be cool.

"Oh, yeah? Well, why wait until we're done? I only paid twenty bucks for this Groupon, and believe me, that's money I'm willing to flush right down the toilet. Just like this wine."

"I'm Mars, by the way."

@cvrdelia