Marco (thatdarnoctopus) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2017-08-14 13:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 089, cecilia, marco |
Who: Marco and Cecilia
When: around 2:30
Where: the foyer
Marco only vaguely remembered getting his dog from Oliver's room. Oliver hadn't been there, but Edwin had, and though he wondered if he could get any sympathy from "The Elf" to get just a little bit of morphine, when he attempted this he was only able to speak in gibberish. Edwin had suggested that he continue to watch Bearbear while Marco get a little more settled, but in the end, Marco took his dog and retreated to his room, where his mind began to overwhelm him once again. He never should have been given a living thing. He loved this dog already, but he was sure he would kill it. He couldn't protect her, from this place or from himself. This disruption, and this fear, had him feeling just as unsettled as, well, anything else. He knew he was getting bad again. The octopus had started making appearances, which was the only reason he knew that Bearbear wasn't actually trying to kill him, and that the lamps weren't projecting thoughts into his head.
His request for morphine the night before had failed, but he still very much believed that he needed something. He needed to calm his mind, and he had his tried and true way of doing that. Of course, that way had been heroin, and the heroin was gone now, but the morphine wasn't. He just needed a way to get it, wherever it was.
He wasn't sure where it was, though. Which meant someone had to give it to him.
He had had a plan, upon emerging from his bedroom. Fall down the stairs, get injured, receive morphine for pain. It was simple. Just trip over Bearbear, and then gravity would do the rest. A voice had even loudly encouraged him once he got to the top of the first floor staircase. Hell, he had fallen down them once before, and had miraculously avoided injury. He just needed to do that a little differently.
Marco wasn't a fan of pain, though. He liked to avoid that as much as possible, which was how he had ended up hooked on drugs. His head already hurt. He didn't want to smash his skull and make it hurt more. And what if he did worse? It would be just his luck if he ended up paralyzed.
He'd have to fake it, he decided. That should be easy enough, right?
After a moment of thought, Marco brought Bearbear down to the ground floor, leaving her there. She stayed obediently at the foot of the stairs, as Marco tried to figure out how to fake falling down the steps. First, he just lay down at the base of them, back on the floor, legs on the steps. He bent his legs akimbo. Perfect.
Except, no, not really. Someone would have to have heard him, right? He glanced at Bearbear, who was content to just lick his forehead when given attention. He probably needed her to bark or something. Frowning, he sat up, then started up a few steps, then slid down, like a bumpy slide. When he hit the bottom, he laid back on the steps, arms limp at his side. No, that looked dumb, and wasn't loud enough, either.
Finally, Marco hopped up again, and with heavy steps, he ran halfway up the staircase, then right back down. He stretched out at the bottom, his legs up on the stairs, his waist twisted to he could kind of be on his side. He kicked at the stairs a few more times for good measure, then moaned in pain, which, luckily, finally got the puppy barking. So now he just needed Cecilia to come out and help him.
Shit. He hadn't actually checked to see if Cecilia was even in her room. Or, hell, was anyone around? This plan really counted on being found.
"Oww," he called out. "Owwww!" God, this was stupid.