marcus murray. tbd.

OCCUPATION.

FIREFIGHTER // Yeah, okay. Maybe it was a childhood dream, and maybe he only started hanging around stations as a junior volunteer because he needed community service hours for university applications, but there was something about the rush of a siren sounding that made him feel alive. After That Night, that sound was the only thing that made him continue to feel alive. Adrenaline replaced true excitement, gave him something worth chasing, and he went against his mother’s wishes. Instead of escaping Sierra Island, he withdrew his university acceptance and undertook recruitment amongst Sierra Island’s finest. He’s never regretted that choice, either. His career is the only thing capable of making him feel like he’s still a good man despite it all.

EIGHT YEARS AGO.

Marcus was, in every sense of the word, average. He made good (not great) grades, played for the rugby team (but never started a game), and had his fair share of school pranks (that never would go quite right). The only thing remarkable about him was his ability to build bonds with people, even those that batted at affection with a broomstick. It drew him into several different friend groups, and many would flit to his side to ask about the latest drama. He kept his lips sealed, vouched for discretion at every turn, and became the school confidante. He carried  the weight of lost loves, jealous friends, bitter failures, and he bore it well. So yeah, he didn’t have a knack for school, or sports, or mischief -- but he had a knack for people, and he felt at home within a crowd.

Less poetically, Marcus was also a bit of a nerd. He enjoyed reading (though it was difficult for him to make it more than a few pages at a time without wanting to discuss it with his neighbor), and his advice always felt a bit more like sage wisdom than it should coming from the mouth of a teenager. Matched with his deep belief in valor and honor, Marcus made quite the odd picture. His parents swore he’d grow out of it, and eventually he would -- though for disastrous reasons.

NOW.

There’s always been something ancient nestled deep inside his chest, and it has placed him at odds with the world. He’s tried to carve it out, replace the old with new ideologies and manifestations, yet it refused to be fully overwritten. When he was younger, it made him dream of being a knight. Now — or really, since That Night on Sierra — the bygone artifact within him has started to rot. Dead weight, he’d once thought to himself with the cruel stab of humor that only comes with the simultaneous acceptance and deflection of a deep truth.

He thought the rot would make it easier to bury, but instead of disappearing it began to carve itself a hole. No one called him an old soul anymore, and people were coming to him for advice less and less frequently.  He thought maybe it was because he was  young and still had a license to be very, very dumb, but it felt deeper than that. It felt like an ache deep within him, something carving into his chest the idea who he could have been, if only he’d lived a life of honor.

The ache didn’t present itself until several months after the murder. The first few weeks, Marcus felt nothing other than pride. He helped cover up the case to protect his friends, to ensure that they could still chase their dreams. He even felt noble in those initial weeks, certain that he’d done everything right. He was bouncing across couches night after night, there to offer support and distraction in the immediate post-trauma. He thrived in his role of caretaker, viewed every hour as a sign of trust and as proof that he was just looking out for those that needed him most. Later, he’d realize that he simply thrives on being needed, prospers when someone  asks for the shirt off his back.

So he did okay. He did okay until The Fifteen no longer needed him sleeping over every night. He did okay until suddenly the only person he needed to show up for was himself, and then he realized the implications of covering up a murder. And it wasn’t as easy to forgive himself as it was for him to forgive his friends.

He carried that weight for a while, and it took a year for him to crawl out of the hole he’d buried himself within. He didn’t feel quite like himself, and started looking for pieces of himself in others. Eventually, he constructed a newer version of himself that still sought validation from others but only when the voices in his head became too much. Now, he’s the picture of confidence. He looks like he has everything together. He has a good job, a fiance, and friends that he’s managed to hold onto throughout the years. He’s popular in the community, and he knows how to flash a smile so bright no one can see the vacancy deep in his eyes.

Marcus Murray is a model citizen now. He’s grown out of his childhood awkwardness and become quite charming, vivacious, talented, kind, and loyal. He plans dates religiously, makes sure to catch up with friends and family on weekends, leads new training initiatives at work. All in all, it appears that life has gone on for Marcus, evolved into a bright future becoming more and more realized with each passing day. People see that he has the world at his fingertips, and no one knows that he finds it difficult to see a land beyond blood-tinged beaches.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

THE FIRST LOVE. Although it would make a striking love story, THE BRIDE was not the first person to hold Marcus’ heart. THE FIRST LOVE is the one that made him realize what love was, made him recognize that the highs and lows of infatuation are not always enough to keep a candle burning. For whatever reason, they didn’t work out, and he’s accepted that but he hasn’t truly moved on from it. He dreads their appearance at his wedding, largely because they remind him of the love he could have been capable of if only he hadn’t lost himself in the pursuit of other people’s happiness. // Of note, I am very open to this even being an unrequited love -- a friendship that never quite became a relationship, an acquaintance that could have been more if the timing were right.

THE CONFIDANTE. Marcus is accustomed to being the secret keeper for everyone else, but he needs someone willing to accept his confessionals. Try as he might, he certainly isn’t a saint, and this person is willing to see him for who he is right now. He doesn’t have to play at being the picture perfect hero around them, which both makes him feel unsettled and at home. Marcus knows this is the role he holds for many, and his deep appreciation for this character’s ability to listen, to push him, to expect nothing from him but him -- that’s something he makes others feel. Thus this relationship is a cathartic release for him as well as another cog in a vicious cycle. Every time he uses THE CONFIDANTE, he reinforces his belief that he must continue to bear that torch for everyone else.

THE PARTNER IN CRIME. He knows he shouldn’t call them this, that it’s far too on the nose, yet this person is the one that makes feeling criminal absolutely worth it. They don’t indulge in murder (the joke was made once, and it left such a sour taste in both their mouths that it was never mentioned again), but they find their fair share of mischief. Marcus owes his young twenties to this person. Without them, he would have felt damned all the time. Instead, he was able to get drunk, to throw caution to the wind, to jump off a cliff without fear of the rocks beneath the ocean surface. This person represents freedom to Marcus, and he would do anything to keep them seemingly untethered.

THE ANTAGONIST. No hero is without a villain, and while Marcus has learned that life often blooms in the gray spaces between good and evil, he still can’t help but color this person as irredeemably bad. They’re everything that he hates, and even his desperation to be a golden boy can’t quite overcome the lurch of disdain in his chest anytime he sees them. He didn’t want them anywhere near the wedding or Sierra Island, and he may even break decorum just to try to run them off. Seemingly, this is the only person that can draw pure vitriol from Marcus’ lips, and they’re the one he’ll first point fingers at when things go south.Alternatively, Marcus can be the bane of another character’s existence. He’s accustomed to being loved, and someone actively against him would jar him almost immediately -- especially if he didn’t harbor any resentment against them previously.

WANTED PLOTS.

PLOT ONE - BECOMING.

Marcus is gilded gold. He shines -- brightly -- but his substance is concealed. He doesn’t know what to make of it. He adores the idea of himself as a hero, and he clings to the possibility of bringing enough good in the world to overwrite one night of evil. He buys into it some days better than others, but most people would be none the wiser. He feels that he needs to always be doing more, and that trips him up. He won’t slow down, won’t give himself a break even when he needs it most. He’s relentless in the pursuit of good, but he feels that means he’s chasing an idea of himself.

The actual him isn’t as well-constructed. He’s brass: common and malleable, prone to discoloration. He’s always been what other people want, and he’s close to being fed up with it. He wants to be himself, but it’s a stranger staring at him in the mirror.  This part of him needs to be unveiled, and bringing everyone together for the wedding can serve as a trigger for Marcus realizing how far he’s strayed from himself. He’ll want to be a little selfish, to indulge in sins he normally avoids, largely because he needs to test his own boundaries. He’s spent his whole life keeping himself between the lines drawn by those around him that he must find his own barriers.

PLOT TWO - SLEUTHING