God Knows

Marcus Keane The Exorcist (tv) Highly Selective.Read the Rules. Written by TK

[oldgreylion-blog]

islandecologist:

“Apologize?” Peter offered a smile in return and mocked wonder. Marcus had been sending mixed messages but Peter wasn’t one to draw assumptions. If the ex-priest wanted a simple drink and company Peter was glad to be of service; More than that? Peter wouldn’t come to conclusions on a single night.  “You could help me if you like but really I’m glad to take a break from reading more numbers and spreadsheets.” He smiled properly then and stepped aside for Marcus to enter.  “Here-” Peter motioned to the coat hook for Marcus to put his jacket and carefully stepped past him after closing the door. “Move the papers from the couch if you’d like.” He moved predictably by default and gestured for Marcus to go as he pleased while he went into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee started. 

   "For." The word lingered there like a hot coal on the tip of his tongue, realization smacking him hard. He had more to apologize for than just randomly showing up at the other man's home with a weary look and not much more than that. "A lot of things, I have come to realize." Marcus' lips curved upward faintly, immediately turning the weariness of his features into happy weariness.

   "Mm, numbers and spreadsheets." How very normal. Shaking his head slightly, Marcus only stepped in once invited, and he toed off his shoes at the entryway before hanging up that coat he'd been wearing. "I'm not very helpful with spreadsheets." Mostly because he'd never had the inclination to learn how to read or create them.

  The excommunicated priest stood awkwardly for a moment, watching the gesture and the easy way that Peter moved toward the kitchen. With little more invitation, however, he strode toward that sofa and looked over the paperwork cluttering the cushions. "Are these in any particular order?" Calling to the man as he crouched and careful began pushing the paperwork into a neat pile.

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

“None of them.” He cracked a smile at the rather forward grab and hold of his hand but figured he didn’t need to tell the man he could vaguely make out shapes and blurs of buildings. “I’ve been asked to visit a family around town. It should be an apartment building around here on the corner of seven and eight.”  Jose paused briefly, contemplating whether or not it was smart to ask Marcus to accompany him to a house most likely plagued by a demon. “I’ll just need to find the building. Once I’m there I’ll find my way up.”

    Jose looked pleased with himself, or with something, by that cracked smile as he chirped that none of those apartments were his. "Last Rites?" Although Marcus quiet obviously believed in possession and the possessed, Marcus was not swift to speak about that occupation, especially not with people he hardly knew. Even if the other man was a priest.

    "I can help you to the door, Jose." A hand came down over the two twined together in a comforting, gentle gesture. "It's the very least I can do after nearly lying you out." He added with a soft hint of humor in his tone. "I believe it's this way."

[oldgreylion-blog]

islandecologist:

There was a certain sense of peace that came with the quiet. Nothing but the sound of the earth and soft scribbling on paper. Peter enjoyed taking notice of the strange changes happening around him. How bugs would gather against their nature and birds would end up lost in woods they shouldn’t be. Even with the world turning strange he found peace in simple observation and excitement in curious oddities. A set of knocks to his door were a break in the pattern, something unexpected which pulled Peter’s eyes from the papers he had been editing manually. “Hold on-” He called up from the living ‘room’ which had slowly turned into a display of papers, books and photographs. The minimal space given to him was used almost fully and as he got up from the couch Peter stepped over one of his equipment cases to get into the hallway.  The tentative pattern of a knock was unfamiliar yet when he opened the door Peter found there could have been no-one else to make a call quite like that.  He tried not to split into a smile upon seeing Marcus and instead gave him a quick once over to see if he was alright. He looked lost, even for someone who had come here on the only road which lead to Peter’s home the ecologist recognized someone who was looking for something; Most of all Marcus looked in no hurry to run off. “Coffee or bourbon?”

    Considering the look upon the ecologist's visage as he drew the door open, Marcus felt a sense of relief wash through him. Peter was a curious man, otherwise he wouldn't have devoted himself to the sciences and research, but he was considerably more tactful about his questions than Marcus could claim to be. A barely there flash of memory clustered within his mind, reminding him of how harshly he'd questioned Andy when at last he'd rooted out that the man was indeed possessed.    "Perhaps a bit of coffee, if it isn't too late." Bourbon too, maybe. Either would be warming. Marcus felt like part of himself was hanging on the edge of a cliff waiting to jump. "I feel as though I should apologize-" He began, curling the palms tucked away into his pockets, into loose fists within his pockets.

   This was an interruption, an invasion of Peter's privacy, but the man only seemed content to invite him in. Gracious, sweet, intelligent Peter. "If it isn't too much trouble, you're probably rather busy." What with all of the ecology related anomalies in the area now. They could be explained, but Marcus suspected that would only promote more questions, and deeper, wilder answers.

[oldgreylion-blog]

   An explanation for his sudden appearance on the familiar old deck, before that familiar door, but for the life of him Marcus could not think of a reasonable excuse. He only hoped that Peter would not ask him for an explanation either. His long legs had carried in through the forest and along the rocky shore where they'd first met, his mind absent and tangled up in the possession, his protege and the dangerous games he were playing with the demons, and where they would be when this was all over. Part of him ached at the thought of leaving behind this peaceful--eerie--beauty.

    Turning his cerulean gaze around the yard after a couple of short knocks and sliding his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, Marcus felt nerves and uncertainty flutter up into his chest. He shouldn't be bothering Peter, he should look for comfort and peace some place else. But he could not help the desire he had, to see the man. And that desire to be at peace in his presence if only briefly.

[museplural-deactivated20180523]

[oldgreylion-blog]

                                   “Just a simple fish and wildlife agent.”

                                          Ask           About        Rules

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

Ben considered the man, genuinely considered him. He held his eyes trained on Marcus to not just look at his face as he answered but every little sliver of ‘something’ that whirled around his head. ‘It looks like a crown’ Ben thought to himself, pondering the answer for a second. It was genuine but incomplete. “…Why’d y’tie her up?” he loosely gestured his own wrists as he asked. Ben gave his colleague a careful touch to the shoulder to signal a ‘I’ll take this’ and switched spots with him on the stool in front of the bars.  “…Girl looked t’much a lightweight to be a danger t’anyone.” There was something wrong here, something Ben could hardly get a read on through the blurry filter of his meds.  He looked back at his colleague and gave him a quick nod “Y’got some water on you? Head’s-” Another vague gesture and it seemed his colleague understood as he walked off to get something to drink.  In his absence Ben turned to Marcus. “I believe y’r not lying t’me…But I’m not really putting things t’gether by looking at you..” He shifted in his seat and brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “What did she do?”

   His last brief stay in prison had not resulted in much questioning, more that they held him with intent to question in the morning when fresh faces were prepared to deal with some potential psychopath that enjoyed tying up little girls and shouting Bible verses at them until they were blue in the face. Marcus Keane was not a psychopath, and he was not some religious zealot nut job either, but too few people believed in the powers of God and those opposing Him. Too few people believed in demons and devils as anything more than minute, unrealistic, problems personified with horns and a whip-like, spade-pointed tail. They weren't, Marcus knew. But how could a man convey such truths without sounding deranged?    Slowly he inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, sealing his pale eyes. One ringed nearly black with fresh bruising. When his eyes opened again, the brief exchange between officers encouraged one out of the room on an errand to fetch water for the one now seated before him.     "It doesn't matter how large or small a person in--she was..." Sucking in a sharp breath, Marcus' brows pinched faintly. "Possessed... By a demon." Immediately he tensed, expecting a bark of laughter or worse, but this man was asking. What was the worst that could happen? "It isn't so much what she did, but what is being done to her. By arresting me, you and yours have practically damned her eternal soul. I was trying to save her." Marcus frowned and lowered his gaze.

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

Brandy paused for a split second, reading the compliment as somewhat of a non-verbal green light. He hadn’t set off any alarms and if he had they were minor enough to be ignored by common sense and due to a smile. “Perhaps it was fate.” He smiled, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck before deciding to return the other his personal space again.  Brandy stilled and furrowed his brows as if to think of something to say before speaking. “…If there is no one else in here I should have a look at..would you have a drink with me?” A cautious hope crossed his eyes that his target would accept, if not he’d have to double down and back off to wait for a better time. Luckily, this case didn’t seem to have any deadlines involved.

     "Perhaps." Dipping his head, the priest folded his hands between his knees and studied Brandy, although the look he offered was something of an affectionate father regarding a son he hadn't seen in many years. This Taavi was... Good. Kind. Charming. He did not reek of the damning things that ruin souls and devoured eternities for humans, but he did not also seem entirely right either.     Shifting and slowly stretching out his legs as space was granted to him again, Marcus did not betray the slumbering figure within that abandoned building by casting a glance over his shoulder. "You've fallen so deeply for my priestly charms that you wish to have a drink with me?"

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

“Death offers no damn or salvation” His tone was plain, matter-of-fact. Bael observed the light before him and watched strife cross with confusion. It was intriguing to behold but not quite the color he had been drawn to before. “It is merely a realm you enter.” It was curious to see how gods demanded their charges to live according to rules they were not made to follow. “I offer safety and the free choice to terminate our contract at any given point.” He was confident; Confident that in his care no soul would choose to leave the East. ”No harm shall come to you..” A brief pause as he lowered himself to crouch before the smaller form. “You entirely.” He wanted to have this soul exactly as it were yet free from its choking contract with a god who had left him to die in the snow.

    "That is a most definite answer." Marcus answered in that same plain tone, his tongue no longer feeling nearly as heavy as it had only minutes before with the cool embrace and promise of freezing to death very near and present. "Purgatory, then?" How could anyone know what death was without knowing their infinite and inevitable end? How could this creature know?     Puzzling over those thoughts, he listened still and cocked his head in such a way to suggest he was hearing each word that escaped Bael. His attention only actually snapped upward when the tall being moved to crouch just before him. Swallowing back the startled sense, he thought again to begin a litany of some sort--although it hadn't seemed to effect his guest. "Show me." Marcus started and slowly he shifted nearer, eyes narrowing. That he was even considering making some damning deal with an entity not of his own religious beliefs, Marcus could hardly believe. But this... This being had shown more than just his face and signs, Bael had saved him.

[oldgreylion-blog]

“I did something terrible.”

@thenewcastleincident​

source

    "Isn't that quite what you're known for?"    Without looking up from the smears of charcoal across the scriptures of Lamentations 3, Marcus mouthed the words even as they disappeared beneath venous stretches of black, barren tree limbs. When at last he did lift his gaze from the intricate sketch, his cerulean eyes fixed upon the magic user. "Care to elaborate, or are here to get help to fix whatever it is?"

[oldgreylion-blog]

“I did something terrible.”

@saintofchicago

source

   If it weren't for the weight of those words braced upon the younger man's shoulders, Marcus might have made a glib jest about coming to an ex-communicated priest for confession. Planting a hand upon the back of the pew in front of him, Marcus drew himself to his feet and slowly approached Tomas, brows knitting faintly.    "Tomas." He started before reaching out to lay a gentle hand upon the younger man's shoulder. "What is it?"

[benmckeearchive]

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

The demon ignored the ‘spell’ attempted cast his way and simply took the added cracks to his porcelain. Instead he put his eyes back on the light before him and gladly watched as warmth cradled life back towards it. At the request for a name Bael simply stated his answer, voice warm holding no ill intent nor particular charm. “..I am Bael,king of the East.” With his name given he waited, snow now oddly turning to rain as it hit the spherical spell Bael had cast, sizzling whenever it hit his skin. “What name have you given yourself?”

Bael. King of the East. Once more Marcus squinted, his brows pulling together as he puzzled over the name. Over the designation and title. Breath hitched in his throat and for a moment Marcus' eyes rounded. He had played the long game with any number of demon--each refusing to offer their name without some semblance of force... There was power in a name. Any other might have found delight in his weakened state. This one, however. This... Demon, was patient. "You would have me damn myself." Marcus began softly, forcing himself to sit up and cringing at the way his body protested. "To make myself an abomination in the eyes of God. For your collection."

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

“I would not cheat you out of your life.” Bael pulled his hand from the layers of smoke-like silk wrapped around his form and cracks formed bright like embers on his skin as the earth beneath Marcus bent to his will. “I ask for the contract to your soul, I have no interest in trapping you where you wish not to be.”  Sigils in foreign languages scribed themselves into the dirt beneath Marcus’s body and lit up in a similar warm glow as a magic circle pulled warmth directly to the center.  Made sure that the life before him wouldn’t wane and be ripped out of reach Bael returned his hand to the silks. “I am patient.” He would give the other a full life, one unhindered by disease and guarded by a soul stronger than the vermin this one seemed to fight for purpose. “I simply wish for no other to have you when you leave here.”

   With as many years as he'd had on Earth, Marcus was surprised to hear that this... Thing thought him capable of living for much longer. His lifestyle was fast paced and dangerous--dodging and putting down demons, or dodging knives, it seemed not to matter either way. As that hand slid from the screen of smoke-like silk, Marcus shifted and flinched hard. "Though I walk through the valley... Of the shadow of death..." The words were difficult to form without the chattering of his teeth and the painful labor of breathing, but he spoke them like a lullaby of protection. And he would have continued, except for that warmth that seemed to slowly draw him back, that slowly reeled him back to near-clarity.    Squinting, and watching the glow of carved sigils encircling him within the melting snow and dirt, his gaze returned upward. "You've given me no name." Marcus started again, drawing in breath more easily, and a lively rosy hue started back into his pallid skin.     "How am I to know whom you are--"

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

“Your light…” Bael started yet stayed exactly where he stood. He would not encroach the man’s claimed space. “I am a collector of that which I find beautiful. I would like to have your light live in my kingdom after your time in this world ends…” Pausing he glanced down at the snow thawing in a radius around him. “In return you shall have your full time on this earth and my aid in any life after.” He had dealt with humans before, where his impatience prior would have pushed him to get closer and take what he wanted to have he now patiently observed as snowflakes chipped and chewed at a flickering light. 

   "M-my light."   A soft bit of laughter escaped him, accompanied by a wheeze and whimper. Shocks of pain reminded him that he was alone in the frigid storm, left to weather the worst of it or die where he lay. But this being, this thing that had come to him now in these final hours... Not human, not like any of the demons he'd encountered either... Desired his light in exchange for aid. "Do you mean my soul?" There was soft conviction in those words and a finality.    "My... You speak such sweet words--my time is nearly-" A heat and immediate chill caught along his cheeks when he felt the swell of tears fall from their corners. "-Nearly over." Slowly he shifted once more, forcing his eyes open to focus upon the creature making that offer. "I get the short end of the stick." Marcus added softly but without guile.

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

Brandy chuckled “God, I wish-” He wasn’t a doctor and the ones he knew would never label him as a nurse either. He had soaked up the basics and luckily for him these injuries didn’t look too bad. “It would certainly pay better.” He finally stuck the end of the bandage and gently covered his handiwork with both hands to carefully test the pressure. The bite had looked nasty and from what he knew Marcus would probably need some sort of medication not to get infected with whatever diseases people carried.  “You should still get to a doctor who can get you some sweets. I carry no drugs on my person.” Hands held up in a gesture of ‘full disclosure’ Brandy stayed crouched in front of his target. “How did you get bit in here? You’re not biting yourself to lure in unsuspecting nurses are you? I think that is a tragic business. There is no way there are enough of us to make it a business.” 

"You wish?" Once more the man mused, watching the way that Brandy worked and the way that he carried himself whilst he worked. Professional, but compassionate. He was not yet jaded by the existence of humanity in all forms of injured or ailing. So perhaps, beyond the fact that he certainly still looked young, he was new to the medical practices. Or optimistic. "You've already got so much knowledge, would it be so difficult to return to school and work toward becoming a physician or--whatever sort of doctor?" Wincing again when the pressure was pressed around those bandages, he cleared his throat and offered a quiet chuckle. "I'll keep an eye on it, I don't suppose my insurance plan covers bitten-by-a-random-person." Lean shoulders rolled an easy shrug before he finally dropped his arm and rolled his sleeve back down. "Alas, if only it were me biting myself to encourage a bit of company from lovely nurses like yourself." Folding his palms together between his bent knees, Marcus cocked his head and let a small grin ebb across his features. "Not much of a business at all, Taavi. I must be lucky you came stumbling across my path."

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

@oldgreylion

Thick snow had started to fall and with the cold season came a noise through the quiet humans couldn’t quite pick up on. Pointed ears and fire red eyes however, had peered into the world a few times and this time the sound of alert came from a soul flickering against the cold, its body put there by creatures which called themselves demons.  Bael moved from his spot, languidly pulled himself to stand as thick smoke whirled and clung to him like threads of pitch black silk. As he stepped away from his throne his surroundings shifted from stone floors to mushy snow that sizzled beneath his steps. “You seem to be in pain.” Standing right before the slowly dying body the demon glanced around to glance the vermin which had put this bright light into such a state.  “Are you cold?” With a tilt of his head Bael fixed his eyes on the human body again wondering if it was still conscious in such conditions. The possessed within range took a step closer ready to open its mouth when it suddenly froze as if time itself had stopped right around it. “..I would like to offer you a deal.” 

    Pain. Yes. Yes, there was pain.    He felt the bitter bite of chill, and the even more bitter feeling of that chill long since having gone numb--it still hurt, Marcus thought. His body still hurt. Each labored, staggering breath rippled aching sensations through his stinging skin and bruised muscles, deep down into his bones even. Half frozen, his body should be numb, his mind shut off to the world, and yet he remained... Far too stubborn to just let go. And because of that stubbornness, he was hearing voices. Not God, the voice was not that of his maker's, but it was tender too.    A demon then, threatening to steal his last moments of humanity--just as the integrated that'd dragged him out into this snowstorm had intended.     Forcing his eyes to flutter open, Marcus gasped and choked on the rush of frigid air as it blazed down his throat and into his lungs. "Yes." That single word escaped on a fit of body-rattling coughs, that slate blue-gray gaze narrowing upon the creature... The being? That spoke to him. "It is cold." The ex-communicated priest whispered hoarsely. "A deal-" Marcus whispered and tried to shift his frozen form in that blanket of frost, to no avail. "What... What sort of deal?" Demons dealt in deals and bartering, but he would listen. He had to do at least that.

[oldgreylion-blog]

versatilevarious:

Brandy looked back up at the other and genuinely considered him. He was charming, oddly inviting for a stranger looking worse for wear. Taking the package from his teeth he pursed his lips in thought before deciding a name for his case “Hermoso.” He shifted with a grin and copied the care he had been observing for about a month in close precision; Gently dab the open cuts with some of the stinging disinfectant, clean carefully without lingering and hold a patient softly so they could retract their hand when necessary.  “I wouldn’t know if that would make you uncomfortable” He arched his brows briefly and figured a compliment wouldn’t hurt to get a little closer even if just as a joke. “My mother tells me I speak to much, ‘run my mouth’.” He mimicked the tone of someone he fabricated entirely and managed to make it sound genuine. While it wasn’t necessarily his mom who told him to zip it his boss often came close to it. “Maybe Bond for the accent but I’ve never quite liked his way of leaving girls.” Now he was chattering, getting familiar with the man on an easier level. Brandy took the bandages from the packaging again and took a second to position the other’s hand the right way before he started wrapping him up. Halfway through he took a glance back up at his target and nodded “Tell me when to stop.”

    "You flatter me." Marcus crooned sweetly, Spanish one of the few languages he was nearly fluent in. As he spoke, the priest cringed and offered another soft hiss of pain when the disinfectant was dabbed against that wound. This lovely, sunshine-gilded stranger was efficient. Careful and precise, practiced, but Marcus intended still to keep his eyes on the man.    "Well is that the goal, Taavi?" Blue-gray eyes scaled the form of the man from toe tip to the top of his head before settling upon his eyes. "To make me uncomfortable?" It would take far more than a compliment to do as much, even if he weren't exactly accustomed to receiving them. "He does seem to have a certain way with women, doesn't he?" Clicking his tongue and dismissing the thought with a faint shake of his head, Marcus chuckled at the chattering. Whomever this odd stranger was, he was sweet. "You have a nice voice, and your accent is lovely, there isn't anything wrong with a bit of talking."

   With the bandages removed from the packaging, he held his arm still again despite the painful throb from the disinfectant, and allowed himself to be manipulated the way that Brandy needed. "You're the doctor." Marcus' brows arched when the man looked up at him, surprised and intrigued.