haunted by mars.

[marspirited]

marvoile·:

‘‘ that frédéric and you both left europe makes me wonder if the end of time is upon us, ’’ elena quipped, mischief lighting up her eyes. she was very fond of her friends and she could not deny that there was a sense of safety in the knowledge that aside from her good friends, there were those dearest to her in the city as well. ‘‘ i never thought i would see the day. ’’

of course — the presence of two made the absence of the third all the more tangible, but she had taught herself not to worry. it was how it was and she would not pressure anyone into anything. that she had placed so many expectations on gaius, no, rufus was part of why their relationship was so … strained.

placing her spoon on the saucer, she rolled her shoulders. empathy had long become a strength of hers and the mention of the unpleasant tension marcus must have felt for centuries caused an echo to take hold of her own neck for a second. ‘‘ i will not drag you through the entire tourist program of the city within a single day, ’’ she said with a grin. ‘‘ that would be torture, i think. but i thought that you might want to stroll through the university’s garden? it’s open for visitors this month and i didn’t get to go there yet. plus — universities. ’’

she could try to downplay her fascination with the hallowed halls of learning, but considering her present company, she did not see much of a point in it. when she had lived in london, she had made a game for herself out of it, had visited various university libraries to see if she could find a paper written by someone she knew personally — either because she had crossed paths with someone who would later go down in history or because she was friends with people who sometimes picked a topic and wrote a paper on it for no other reason than their own interest in it.

“Don’t you mean,” Marcus paused, making sure to drawl the consonants out as obnoxiously long as he was able. A clear mimicry of the American drawl “Colleges.” 

ALRIGHT, so maybe he was a bit of a snob. america was hardly the undefined new world everyone tore themselves bloody over anymore, but Marcus wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to like it. Europe was no utopia, but at least it had culture. 

BUT there had been a time, however distant it was, where he’d been convinced he would never feel at home anywhere that wasn’t Rome. Marcus always fought changes in the beginning, so perhaps he would find himself growing fond of this city as well. 

THEN he recalled coffee (& how the Americans always drew it own, caw-fee, echoing in his mind) shops && how not a single place in the airport had sold the tea he preferred - &&& thought maybe not. “It’s certainly the end of my world,” he quipped, a dramatic air to his complaint. “I’ll be struggling to face myself in the mirror for months, after this. But I’d like to go with you, I promise I won’t compare it to any universities.” 

HAD he been left to his own devices, alone in the America’s hiding out from his recent...situations, Marcus has no doubt he’d have holed himself up in an apartment for the better part of the year. He had a rather troubling habit of forgetting the time when he was alone, letting years pass him by like they were days. It was good he had someone with him, even better that two of his dearest friends were around. If nothing else, New Haven had great company. 

 “At least, not aloud.” 

[marspirited]

"marcus!" she might be a little confused as to why he was not in europe, but she was also glad (so very glad) to see him. she did not walk, no, she flew towards him, her arms wrapping themselves tightly around him. "i'm so happy to see you! why are you here? did you get a teaching job? at the university?"

IN all of a few seconds, marcus went from is that perhaps— to having his arms full of brigid. centuries of reunions lent themselves to his reflexes & he caught her easily, barely even stumbling back. brigid was pleasantly affectionate, but the sudden rush of her had just about knocked both him && frédéric to the ground a handful of times. 

STILL he was more than happy to see her, or at least, see the blur of brunette that had rushed him. laughing, he hefted her up off her feet. it hadn’t been so very long since he’d seen her, not in the way that time passed for those like them, but that hadn’t dulled how much he had missed her. “brigid!” he exclaimed in turn.

FRIENDS were hard enough for him to come by, as he always conducted himself with the knowledge that a decade was the longest he could reasonably hover around in person — but even among the other immortals he had encountered, only two others made as good a friend as brigid. 

“No, I’m not teaching at this university, though I am considering applying if my schedule allows it.” he answered, another reflex to address his professional life before his personal one. “there was… an small incident in estonia. So I came out to visit elena &&& figured I’d stick around for a while. you know I haven’t had time to bother with the states. does elena know you’re here? does frédéric? Did they mean to surprise us both, do you think? 

NEW HAVEN, it seemed, was becoming a better & better choice by the day. he’d have to congratulate elena on a spot well scouted. 

[marspirited]

from ➟ elena

she might have wished for different circumstances to lead to this  ( her, switching on the coffeemaker, him, sitting down at the kitchen table ),  but if there was anything elena had learnt by now, it was that fate had a weird way of spinning things. especially in new haven. she had not expected to reconnect with isaac in a café she had randomly chosen, just like she would not have thought that she would ever encounter  her brother in dion’s apartment of all places. suffice to say — it had thrown her for a loop, and she was not entirely sure if she was trusting the ground beneath her feet again already.

‘‘ here, ’’ she said as she handed one of the coffee cups to marcus, a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. they knew each other, knew each other well and there was something very comforting in this knowledge. ‘‘ i’m glad that whoever built this house had taller people in mind — i’d hate for you to have to keep your head down all the time. it’s hellish for the neck, or so i hear. ’’

her calm, collected  ( professional )  smile peeled away like a layer of old paint as a more playful, perhaps even mischievous expression dashed across her face before it settled in her eyes as she poured milk into her coffee and stirred it slowly. elena was not as obnoxiously well-behaved as the common opinion might claim, but then: she had not been quite what people thought her to be since she had been a young woman. the same, she supposed, went for marcus as well.

‘‘ —i took tomorrow off so we can explore the city a bit, maybe grab a bite to eat in one of the cafés i told you about. ’’

@marspirited·

DESPITE his ever worn curiosity, marcus had never spent much time in the new world. he hadn’t even set foot on the continent until passenger planes had been common place. he preferred the familiarity of Europe, a roman he may be - but he’d never needed to conquer. 

HIS latest incident ( & the oh-so-convenient placement of two of his close friends ) incited him to consider now a good time to familiarize himself with at least one american city. their accents were a tad grating, but he was sure it wouldn’t take him long to pick up on it. 

“No need to worry,” marcus reassured playfully, taking the coffee cup. “My neck and I have plenty of room to exist comfortably. besides, it’s recovered from centuries of poor posture - I’m sure no inconsiderate architecture could do any permanent damage.” 

PLANS were arbitrary, marcus had come to realize. when he was on his own, even if he didn’t lay out every little detail of what the future should entail — things mostly turned out alright. so he wasn’t sure yet, how long he’d be buckling down in the city. but for now, “that sounds like a great idea. After-all, I never get tired of playing tourist.” 

[greensarrow]

#internally screaming

[bergaramadejs]

insp.

[marspirited]

✤ headcanons

The key differences in who Marcus grows into as an adult are, to be honest, fairly simple given the deep contrast between his two paths. 

No matter what, when Drusilla is around, he is raised with his mother perched over his shoulder, a vulture ready to exploit any weakness exposed. She’ll tear any wound open wider just so she can close it with her own thread. This is a weight Marcus is doomed to bear no matter what, as he is Drusilla’s eldest and perhaps the only one she holds a flicker of genuine affection for. 

However, it’s essential that Drusilla truly hammers in that he is constantly competing with his younger brother, Dimitri. When that seed is planted and nurtured from a young age, it’s a driving force for Marcus. It allows him not only to bear resentment & envy, even hatred, for his brother but feeling as though he has to fight for his mother’s “love” is enough to keep him from ever questioning if he wants it at all. 

On top of that, if she wants to build Marcus into a man that she can manipulate into doing horrendous things ( or leave a door open for other treacherous women to do so ) she also has to crumble any self-esteem he might have. gently. with little, but never-ending, remarks. Until the only way he can achieve her praise, her approval is when he does as she tells him to. Destroying any independent confidence he might have. 

If she slips on one of the two things above, provides enough room for Marcus to be able to think for himself before he’s fully under her thumb, things can go differently. Marcus can learn to channel his tenacity and willingness to do whatever it takes into brighter pursuits, he can develop an urge to protect his brother rather than crush him, he can form his own moral values, and he can realize the truth of who his mother is, see the whole picture. 

alternatively - other connections with people help. if marcus is able to experience a healthy relationship, with dynamics that aren’t so toxic && keep that relationship from being poisoned by his mother. Marcus can grow to be a genuinely good person, as is in his heart. 

[marsblooded]

no raindrop touched oriane as she walked through the streets. she was, after all, a water mage. finding marcus irvine was a favour, nothing personal. still, she smiled gently as she found him. "marcus," she said. "déodat sends me." he was constantly watched, being a rosen son, but oriane bernards slipped away from view and was forgotten immediately. "he is worried, i think," she added quietly.

MARCUS had never been one to be bothered by the weather. When he was young, when the days were hot & dry, he would stay out until his skin was pink and sore. When it snowed, he’d throw on his winter coat & trudge outside until his limbs were numb with the cold. Rain, particularly, was little more than a minor inconvenience.

NOW, however, Marcus had no need for practicing. He’d long since given up on fantasies that he’d develop enough talent to rival his siblings, if he just worked hard enough. He hadn’t so much as attempted more than a simple spell here && there since Drusilla had tossed him out. The shamed Irvine child, who couldn’t light a candle much less survive a war.

( Not that there was a war, a teenage Marcus had wanted to scream. The Irvine’s might have been warriors once, but what did that matter when there was no battle to be won? )

ALL things considered, Marcus likes to think he’s adjusted very well to a normal life of paying his own bills, and turning up the thermostat when his apartment got too chilly. Marcus liked his job, accounting was a bit dull at times, but numbers made sense in a way magic never had &&& he knew enough about them to know he was being well paid.

MARCUS was friendly with his neighbors, with his co-workers, & even though he was still working on the whole making friends thing - sometimes the guys in sales would invite him out with them && that was going well. All in all, Marcus was still settling into this new way of living, but he was content enough.

HE had no reason to practice, but habits that ran so deep were hard to break. So he’d swapped spell practice for exercise, &&& he had to say, training his body was much more rewarding than magic ever had been. The hours he poured in showed & his effort mattered.

WHEN he’d woke up this morning, saw the rain dripping from the sky, he’d still laced up his sneakers && carried on with his morning jog as he did every other day. Marcus had never been one to worry about getting sick, either.

HE was stopped at a crosswalk, using the time to stretch out his calf, when he spotted Oriane. For a moment, he wondered if it was a coincidence she was here & wasn’t sure if he was meant to pretend he hadn’t seen her. But when she smiled at him, he beamed back. He hadn’t been particularly close with the Bernards girl, but they’d always been pleasant as far as he could remember.

HIS grin dimmed, just a bit, at the mention of his cousin’s concern. He didn’t want to be a cause of worry for any of his family, with everything else they had hanging over their heads. “Well, it’s still nice to see you Oriane.” he greeted, taking a look at her dry hair. “I’m glad the rain hasn’t deterred you.”

MARCUS tried not to be embarrassed of his own wet clothes, a fabric math pun laying flat against his chest. “Even though my running in the rain may suggest otherwise, I’d appreciate you tell Déodat that while his concern is nice, it’s also unnecessary. I’m doing alright.” he paused, offering a wry smile. He wasn’t sure if she’d understand, but he hoped he didn’t seem too sad a story. “How are things going over there? I haven’t heard much since I’ve been gone. Everyone is doing well though, yeah?”

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