NAME: Marley “Mars” Rowan
AGE: 25
SPECIES: Human
OCCUPATION: Waitress at Patty’s Diner
YEAR OF DEPARTURE: N/A (born within the space)
RESIDENT FOR… their entire life
FACECLAIM: Zoe Kravitz
t i m e i s a n i l l u s i o n, b u t n o t o u r s t o r i e s…
Maggie Rowan’s pregnancy was an accident. This was something she was never shy about telling her daughter, but that didn’t mean she was unwanted. She never knew who the father was, never the type to settle down, rarely without more than one guy on the go at a time. So when she was late, she took a test: two little lines indicated that she was, in fact, pregnant. Frightened by the possibility and in utter denial, she took another and another, certain that it had to have been a mistake. Eventually, she went to the doctor to be certain, and of course, all of the tests had been right. She’d been living in Boston for school, but with only a handful of friends there and a family that all lived in Brooklyn, she packed up and caught a train back home. It was then that she slipped.
When Marley was born into a world that was still strange and unfamiliar to her mother, Maggie did her best to set up a normal life for her daughter. She found a babysitter that took care of her for half the price of daycare, so she could work. If they were stuck here, which it appeared that they were, she was going to set up the best life possible for them. It was difficult, and Marley’s childhood was by no means an easy one, but they both did their best. Marley, as someone who was born into this space, never thought anything of it and her mother did her best to make it all appear normal. She was sheltered and poorly socialized for her mother’s paranoia, but there came an age when Maggie couldn’t keep up with her daughter’s naturally curious and spirited nature any longer.
It was in her adolescence that Marley learned the truth about the world she lived in. Marley had convinced her mother to let her go to a public middle school and skip the home tutoring, and quickly got involved in as many extracurriculars as her mother would allow. It turned out, her limit was one, but Marley took it and ran with it. She had just finished volleyball practice as the sun went down behind the skyscrapers, and her mother was working late. She couldn’t pick her up, but told her to catch a ride with one of the other girls’ parents or call a cab. Instead, she chose to walk. She knew the route well, having taken it by bus or by cab countless times before, but as evening turned to night, she grew anxious. She took a shortcut home, and it changed everything. As she walked through an alley between a townhouse and an old dive bar, she ran into a man with what looked like fangs, bared at a young woman who snarled at him in return. She gasped, they both saw her, and then she blinked. They were gone, just that fast, and she ran the rest of the way home.
She quit volleyball after that. Her mother, rarely present now that Marley was in middle school and could watch herself at home, was none the wiser. While she was supposed to be at volleyball practice, she went to the city library. Not only did she consult the books there, but she spoke with anyone who was willing to give her the time of day. As she grew bolder, she took different routes home at night and continued to happen upon strange people and stranger goings-on. When high school came, she started skipping class in favour of hanging out with her friends —one of whom was a werewolf, or at least his parents were. His gene was dormant, he told her, and he told her a lot more than that. Anything she wanted to know, he was well-versed in. If he didn’t know the answer, his parents were happy to tell her. She had an in, and she made as much use of it as she could. Soon enough, it all felt entirely normal.
Marley’s mother died in the girl’s first year of university. Following in her footsteps, she dropped out. Their apartment went to her, the small amount of savings leftover after helping pay for tuition were transferred to her name, and she got the only job she was qualified for. She’s been a waitress at Patty’s Diner ever since, and she’s grown comfortable in her role there. She likes the regulars, makes a decent amount off tips, and has a pretty flexible schedule. She’s got a jar at home with a blank label on it, saving up for some unforeseen future expense. When people ask, she says it’s her tattoo fund, but the truth is far more complicated. She doesn’t know if she wants to go back to school, but that’s her ‘safe’ option. Option B, the not-so-safe one, is to pay someone to send her back to her mother’s reality, if it’s even possible, or to help her find her dad.
t e l l m e, a r e w e a p r o d u c t o f w h o w e u s e d t o b e?
Generous: Both with time and material things, Mars loves sharing. She remembers very well what it was like to grow up with next to nothing, but it doesn’t matter who you are or how well off you might be. If she’s going to grab takeout, she’ll pick up an extra eggroll and an order of noodles for you. If you’re redoing your kitchen, she’ll be there in overalls with a paint roller in hand. You just can’t tell her no.
Unique: Marley is her own distinct person. She decided at 13 that she was no longer going to answer to Marley, but that she was exclusively ‘Mars’. Her hair hasn’t been a natural colour since about the same time, either, she has a new tattoo every few weeks, and she swears she’s psychic.
Curious: Regarding the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat’, Mars much prefers the adendum, ‘satisfaction brought it back’. Once she gets a whiff of something, she’ll hunt it down until she’s got her answers.
Independent: She’d rather die than have to depend on anyone else for her livelihood, and often refuses help even for the smallest of things. She gets mad when people (men, especially) hold the door for her, she redoes tasks at work that someone else did thinking they were being helpful, and she hustles hard for her money.
Spacey: Many a teacher, friend, and colleague have used this word to describe Marley Rowan. She can rarely be found where her physical body is, often daydreaming or lost in thought. She prefers the ambiguous, theoretical, and mystical to the real world, and even when she seems to be present, she’s likely to spew out something unrelated to the current conversation.
Disorganized: The girl’s apartment is a mess at all times, but she’d call it an artful mess, if you asked her. She has ‘the chair’ for clothes that are either dirty, or she just didn’t want to hang back up; a mess of potted plants adorn her space, some of them a little worse for wear; and there’s always something she’s forgotten about, whether it’s a half-empty takeout container in the kitchen, the aftermath of joint rolling at the coffee table, or her art supplies left strewn about.
Impulsive: Thinking things through isn’t Mars’ style. She’d rather jump on the first idea she has, and see it through until she finds a better one. Better to ask foregiveness than permission; shoot first, ask questions later —these are phrases she seems to live by. It gets her into frequent sticky situations.
Evasive: Marley is hard-pressed to talk about her own problems. She’ll complain about a rude customer at work, or how she got caught in the rain on her way home, but when things get personal she shuts down. She doesn’t mind talking about other people’s problems, and actually gives great advice, but she keeps her own struggles under lock and key.
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