Marco (thatdarnoctopus) wrote in mountzenithrp, @ 2020-07-28 12:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 050, edwin, marco, oliver |
Who: Oliver & Marco
Where: Kitchen in the lodge
When: Around 9am
Marco was aware that he was probably being inconsiderate to anyone who was still sleeping, or anyone else who was passing through the kitchen. He'd thrown down the boxes for Uno and Candy Land on a counter that probably would have been convenient for food prep, and he either didn't notice or didn't care that the colorful cards for Candy Land had jumped out of the box when he'd slammed it down, taking up more of the limited space. Trying to figure out what to eat took more grumbling and banging stuff around, and more thing being spread out over countertops. He knew he should wait for Oliver to get there, because the plan had been to get breakfast together, but Marco couldn't quite sit still, so pots and pans and utensils and ingredients would have to pay the price.
Lucy going missing felt bad. Marco had hardly seen her over the past two days, what with the trip out to the nature center and all, but he'd chatted with her the night before. He'd told her about the taxidermy and the play area, and the platform that lowered them down into the canyon. He'd introduced her to the little owl taxidermy that he'd smuggled back, and how Felix had done the same with an otter and maybe a second owl, he wasn't sure. He'd listened to her thoughts on the adventure, and the lantern, and then he'd passed out, and then she was gone.
Her disappearing hit differently than when Juno had been taken out. Losing Erran had felt different, too. He'd felt such despair losing them. With Lucy, there was for sure a sadness, but when he thought about it, the word inevitable came to mind. He couldn't decide if that was because of all the things that she'd been trying to figure out, or if it was just her proximity to him. He wondered if Lennon was in danger of being taken out too, now that they were getting friendly again. He wondered if Oliver would have been on the chopping block if he wasn't one of the most competent people here.
His sadness was covered by very clear irritation, displayed in full as he took a pan and threw it onto the stove with a loud clang. He hated not knowing where people went. He hated not knowing if he'd ever see them again. He hated this fucking place.
He didn't look up when he heard the door. He just continued what he was doing, this time grabbing a handful of silverware and dropping them on a counter, not really focusing enough to recognize if it was silverware that he even needed. His real goal just seemed to be to work out his aggression through sound until someone yelled at him to stop, and then maybe he'd take out the rest of his aggression through yelling at some poor innocent bystander. Or he'd at least keep going until Oliver came and did his dad shit that usually got him to take a few breaths and calm down.