Ｓｔｏｉｃ [ᴍᴀʀᴋᴇʟʟ's s/ᴍʙ] {DISCONTINUED}

🚬 Eight Cigarettes 🚬

Markell sighed soft as he looked at the elixir in his hand. Oliver promised him it would work slowly as to not cause pain but Markell wasn't sure he could do it. Hell, he didn't even know if he would be coming over again. Well, Arnold was there and who he spoke of, though unable to feel, seemed to be attached to the small micronation.

Of course, with the elixir, he would be able to feel again. Of course, Markell was promised he would get emotion back slowly, starting with the positives and by day two, he would have all of his emotions. Yes, Markell was being selfless. Besides, he was the reason his brother no longer felt emotion. And he had never forgiven himself for doing so. Until now. But even now, he still held a slight resentment towards himself.

Markell shook his head and gripped the vial that held the elixir tightly before he stood up and went to the kitchen. He poured a drink, adding in the contents of the vial into the drink. It fizzled at first before quickly becoming normal, the elixir now unknown by that who drank it or even looked at it.

"This is a good deed. I'm doing something nice," Markell reassures himself, feeling as though maybe he was doing the wrong thing.

Was he?

Markell shook his head and decided to get himself a drink. Soda in hand, he sat down at the table. An annoyed sigh left the Dane when he saw the journal on the table. Using the pen that was inside, Markell reluctantly began to write.

Journal,

Talked to Bernard. We got into a small argument but neither of us hurt the other. Probably because Arnold was there. That's pretty much it. I have a peace drink for Bernard. I think I'm doing the right thing...I hope I am.

With that, Markell signed off and went back to drinking his soda, trying to calm himself even if he looked completely fine on the outside.