#marinn

When 6 strangers from across multiple worlds are pushed into a competition between each other... all bets are off on who will come out on top. Will it be... Chance, the 80s aerobics host? Cali & Deile, the buggy believers? Dorothy, the windswept warrior from Kansas? Marinn, the definitive puppeteer? or Elise, the descendant of the Invisible Man?

There are five sides to every story... which will you choose?

“Be the change you want to see in the world.”

La escena de Finn y Marley en el patio fue tan, tan, padre e hija que acaban de ser abandonados por la madre (algo parecido a Burt y Kurt, por lo menos esa sensacion me dejo) fue la soberana cumbia.

Light was spilling in through a small opening in Maria's bedroom curtains, skirting its way across her possessions, her clothes discarded in various places from the night's events. The orange-like brightness slightly traveled its way over the shared (and occupied) bedroom covers, the room dimly lit with faint hints of the early hours brought by an Autumn morning between the curtains.

Maria remained curled on her side, the baby curls of her forehead brushing against Finn's and their noses occasionally meeting. One arm of Finn's rested beneath Maria's and the matress, tracing light patterns on the assassin's bare back, occasionally meeting one of the scars he'd learnt each story of getting. The teenager's fingers slowly traced the outline of every dip of Finn's shoulders, occasionally traveling up to his disheveled hair, muttering something into his mouth about sex-hair doing him justice.

"There's somethin' Aha wanna talk t' you about." The covers mostly shielded the pair of them from the rest of the world, resting over Maria's shoulders and dipping between their bodies, the other of Finn's hands running up and down Maria's bare hip and waist.

"I'm all ears." If anyone else were to be (slightly inappropriately) in the room with the pair, Maria doubted anyone but the man she didn't doubt she loved could hear her whispers. Maria ran her nose up and down Finn's jawline, feeling him remove a hand from her hip and reach for something from what he'd labeled as 'his' side of the bed.

Maria's hair was curlier than usual, sticking out at irregular intervals as she ran a hand through it, her cheek resting still on the pillow as Finn returned partially under the covers, playing with something in his palms.

"Eh... Ah' know girls are s'pposed to like big fancy displays o' this stuff, but..." One of Maria's hands rested under the pillow with her cheek, moving slightly from her position to close the few centimeters of distance between the pair's lips, kissing him softly and withdrawing her hand from under the pillow.

"It's okay. Girls aren't traditionally supposed to do this, either..." Maria's words were whispered against Finn's lips as her hand met his, gently switching the hands of two rings, Finn's a larger band, placing it into his palm and holding the smaller one in hers. "I beat you there. Will you..." The blonde pulled away shyly, parting their lips so she could doubtlessly look into Finn's eyes, watching as he realized what he was holding.

"Marry me..." Finn's Irish voice completed the sentiment, the couple simultaneously bringing their hands up to switch rings once more, slipping them onto the other's left hand ring finger.

"I was fine on my own," the assassin's voice was stern- no, angry. An anger that was only provoked by two things. Idiots, and Finn. Or at least, Finn in danger. Which more or less fell into the same category as 'idiots', anyway.

Whiskey wasn't an ideal for Maria- anytime a wound presented itself and she had to patch herself up, she almost always had a medical kit with her. But who expects to need one on a date? Naturally, the girl had enemies. And Finn knew about them, now.

The fight had been fast, when a fist had collided with her cheek, there wasn't room to question it being just another late London mugging, it was an attack. Probably a revenge attack: it wouldn't be the first time Maria had encountered one before. But never with Finn.

"Ahm sorry, just protectin' ma girlfriend. Didn't know it was ah crime." The carelessness of Finn's voice caused the blonde to grit her teeth, her stab wound burning under the tenseness of her right arm. It wasn't deep; you win some fights, you lose some. In the end, Maria took her gun and planted a (slightly to the left) bullet through the man's skull. Not without Finn getting shot by their attacker in the upper left arm.

Withdrawing the bullet was a fight, but taking him to the hospital was out of the question. Maria had the man's blood staining her dress, questions would be raised. And at that, questions she wasn't willing to answer.

Stitching up the wound much like the way she had with her own, Maria poured a final drenching of whiskey down Finn's bloodied arm, wincing as he did, though running her nose up and down the bridge of his. She wasn't used to having something to protect, but now wasn't the time to say she'd lay down her life for him.