"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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THE MARKER SQUEAKED LOUDLY AS MARLEY DRAGGED THE INK OVER THE METAL INTERIOR OF THE VAN. Her brows were knitted together in concentration, bottom lip locked between her teeth as she tried to narrow her focus beyond the loud beat of metal music. Marley had a certain level of appreciation for music. She didn't mind it, but heavy metal/rock music was etching closer and closer to her limits. She could handle it to a certain extent.
"Game time, bitches!" Chris spun around in his chair at the passenger side with a large grin, slapping his thighs in time with the harsh beat of the song.
Marley had her head leant against the side of the truck with a frown as she drew a combination of swirls, flowers, leaves and clouds across the metal interior, smiling softly. She knew Adrian had been watching silently since they left home base, but considering he was quiet and non disruptive apart from his tapping along with the song, she didn't care. The belt of knives sat uncomfortably around her waist, the material digging into her skin painfully no matter how she adjusted it. How there were people with weapons dangling from every part of their body, she did not know.
Suddenly, the music shut off. "All right. That's enough. I can't take it," Harcourt explained from the driver's seat, sounded exasperated despite the few minutes they had spent within the confines of the truck. It hadn't even been an hour yet, and she was already sick of Peacemaker's idiocy.
"Not a fan of the Swedish metal there, eh, Harcourt?" Chris shot back with a sly smirk, that only continued to disgust the agent.
Harcourt rolled her eyes and glanced at him with an angered glint to her cold gaze. "Not especially, no."
"It's pathetic," Marley spat, hoping she was quiet enough to be unheard as she typically was.
But Chris seemed offended by a remark. "Well, you clearly have no taste, so," he spat back childishly, sounding very much like a smartass kid who liked to think he was right in every aspect of life. "We could always do a Whitesnake power ballad," he continued, pulling out a collection of CDs from the glove compartment.
Everything he said went right over Marley's head. Her one wish was that it was hard rock metal type of music.
"How about some jazz?" Leota suggested calmly, but Marley could already tell she'd hate the sound of that music too.
"Jazz?" Chris scoffed, seemingly appalled by the suggestion. "I'd rather listen to Vigilante's quiet farts back there than jazz."
The masked anti-hero let out the faintest gasp, hidden beneath the red visor wrapped securely over his wide eyes. "No I didn't!" he exclaimed in an instant panicked, flustered with embarrassment. Marley bit back a smile, before pushing Adrian shoulder to catch his attention. He quickly glanced at her, eyes softening beneath the red visor as his dull gaze flickered to the metal pole Marley had been hard at work decorating.
