"This feels too much like a fever dream to be real"
MARLEY ROXANNE was wrongfully convicted of a crime. A crime that a twisted alter, the worse part of herself, committed in self defense, an act Marley never participated in. She was used to taking t...
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MARLEY WAS EASILY SHOWING THE GROUP ONE OF THE SHIT FACTORS OF THE ASYLUM. They don't feed patients enough, and she showed it by scoffing down meals of food like she hadn't eaten in weeks. Additionally, she had chugged three glasses of water and was currently in the middle of emptying a glass of soda.
"How can your body even keep all of that down?" John asked with furrowed eyebrows, his half finished meal left to rot. The sight of Marley eating food like a starving pig caused him to loose his appetite.
"I think a better question is how are you guys going to pay for it," Marley shot back, giving her empty plate to a passing waitress. "I am singlehandedly keeping this store in business judging by the lack of customers." She threw an arm out to gesture to the empty booths and tables surrounding them.
The group had arrived at the diner about an hour ago, waiting quite impatiently for Christopher Smith to make his grand entrance. Murn was getting frustrated with the anti-hero's lateness whereas the others were just enjoying the food.
Marley had changed before her and Harcourt left the motel, now dressed in a stripped flannel and jeans. Her hair was thrown back into a low ponytail and sauce stained her lips.
A large grin faded onto her face as the waitress placed a bowl of pasta in front of her. Marley clapped her hands together excitedly. This would be her third meal, and despite feeling like she was full, she continued.
From beside her, Harcourt suddenly spoke in harsh and irritated tone. "Are you kidding me?"
Marley glanced over to her with furrowed eyebrows. "I haven't had a proper meal in two years-"
"Yeah, I heard you the last four times," Harcourt brushed her aside and gestured with her fork to the parking lot outside. "No, this guy."
Outside was a small car covered in an American flag wrapping job. Marley's eyes widened as she saw an eagle's head pop up in the back seat and Chris exist dressed in his full costume. Weapons and all.
John could barely hold back his laughter at the sight. "Did this dipshit really show up in full cosplay mode?"
"This is the guy Waller's giving us?" Harcourt blurted with gritted teeth. "Along with the schizophrenic here."
"Hey! We're insane, and we'll own that." Marley stabbed her own fork into the pasta bowl, spinning in between her fingers. "But at least I don't show up in public with a suit that gives away our identity!" As she shoved a strand of the long pasta into her mouth, she pointed an accusing finger at Harcourt. "Also, calling me a schizophrenic is offensive to me and the many people who actually have schizophrenia."
