#marcus~para

[simplysybill-blog1]

Just Say the Words // Marcus & Sybill

Sybill had woken that morning with an extreme hangover, brief memories of the night before swirling in her head.  Merlin, she had actually tried to insinuate that she wanted to... with Fenrir... Sybill was nauseous and she had already had a few potions that should prevent that sensation.  It wasn’t that Fenrir wasn’t appealing, he was, his muscular frame moving fluidly under tanned skin... but in her drunken haze she had practically thrown herself at him.  And she didn’t want him, not really.  She knew that.

Her mind had turned back to Marcus, his crippled state as he entered her apartment in the midst of her distress.  His calm patience as she yelled at him, accused him of sufferings he had not committed.  His compassionate eyes, her angel.  She had told him she needed time.  She needed to find herself again and she couldn’t do that with him, which had been true.  But each day made Sybill feel stronger, and each passing moment she felt she could face him again. 

That was how she found herself walking toward Marcus’s flat.  She hoped he would allow her to enter -- she hadn’t even owled ahead -- and that she would be able to talk to him.  If she got there and he slammed the door in her face, she wouldn’t hold it against him.  She deserved it, she deserved his hatred or at least his dismissal.  But she hadn’t wanted to face him until she was ready, until she felt confident she could look at him without wanting to hex him or shrink away. 

 And now, after a night of regret she realized she wanted him by her side to help her heal, if he would have her.  

She stood, her eyes looking at the door, hand nervously twisting the bracelet that remained around her wrist at all times.  She didn’t know how he would react, if she would be able to stay.  She didn’t even know if he would let her in.  She didn’t have anyone else to support her, and didn’t know if he would still want to.  But Sybill had hope, she had the stars, the card that was now in the pocket of her skirt.  And that hope refused to allow her to turn and leave without trying.  

She raised her hand and knocked.  The sound seemed to echo out, hollow and empty in the flat.  The seconds stretched into minutes, hours, finally feeling as if time itself stood still.  Nothing but the sound of her own breathing to convince herself she was not stuck in some sort of magical time warp.  Finally, the door opened.

He was lovely, just as she remembered.  Light seemed to spill out of his flat as the door opened, his silhouette bringing joy and peace with it like nothing else could.  He was safety, not fear.  And though her heart beat quickened, it was not out of terror, at least not in fear that he would hurt her.  No, it was anxiety at the thought that he might not have her.  Wide, nervous eyes found the compassionate eyes of her angel.  

“Um... hello.  I hope that I haven’t... bothered you, showing up in such an unannounced fashion.”  

[simplysybill-blog1]

Chance Intervention // Marcus & Sybill

Christmas Day, Late Evening

Muggle Street

@marcus-mck-innon

The evening was drawing to a close, the effects of reverie resting heavily upon Sybill’s shoulders.  She knew she already had too much to drink the moment the curses had begun flying.  They seemed to travel at double-speed, her own reactions not as good as they should have been for a duel.  Thankfully Aversio had far out-numbered their foes, so they had won without much worry.  

There was a certain rapture about the night.  The winter solstice was closing in, and even the conventionality of Christmas Cheer seemed to affect the young seer in ways she hadn’t predicted.  And she had so much to be excited about.  The figurehead of the corrupt government had perished at the hands of one of their own.  And now three of the soldiers that seemed the more urgent threat to Aversio’s goals were taken, probably being tortured this moment to get more information.  Sybill had taken their celebration of the group’s demise to a nearby muggle pub, from which she had now been uncerimoniously cast out.  

“I curse will befall you all!  In two months your pub will be in ruin!  I know, I see the future!  Destruction and death to you all!”  

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, you drunk loon.  You don’t have to go home, but you have to leave here or we’re calling the police”  Sybill grumbled under her breath about the inconsiderate and frustrating owners, not understanding the intricacies of time and divination.  She had merely had a few or six more drinks and had attempted to warn the barkeep about the dangers of their building number.  Honestly, they should petition to change the address, the number 1306 having such bad associations and luck in all of it’s parts.  

Sybill stumbled along the sidewalk, her head turned upward to gaze at the stars.  It was so upsetting, the way that light in a city blocked out the stars.  How could people stand living in a place with no stars?  How could you divine the future from the alignment of the planets when you couldn’t even see them.  

“Saturn is completely observable.  HOW CAN YOU TELL IF SATURN WILL GRANT YOU MONEY IF YOU CANNOT SEE IT?” Sybill yelled to the heavens, her voice echoing off the stone pathway.  She didn’t realize that there was anyone else around, she was so absorbed in her own world.  It wasn’t until she fell, stumbling around as she stared suspiciously at the sky, that she saw another come running toward her. 

“Oh my dear, thank you for- Oh! Mr. McKinnon!” Sybill hurriedly brushed herself off, attempting to maintain some composure in the middle of her drunken hiccups.  “What brings you to this -hic- muggle street on this fine Christmas evening?”