Markus Gregory
Markus Gregory grew up in the back streets of Perth. His mother was a laundress and from the time he was 8 he was taking various odd jobs to help support the family. As it was just he and his mother they did alright, they were never so comfortable they could stop working but they were warm and fed and that was as good as they thought it could get.
As he grew the jobs he took and the people offering them slowly became more unsavory. He was strong, and willing not to think too hard about what he was being paid to do. He started to come home with larger amounts of money, excitedly telling his mother she could relax, and that he could take care of her now. But it wore on him, he was willing not to question jobs but he realized he was less willing not to think about the jobs, and the more jobs he took as a brute enforcer the more they played over in his head. He started to become withdrawn, snapping at people, even friends, when they asked after his well-being.
The day his mother re-opened the Laundry they fought. He accused her of disregarding his sacrifice and being ungrateful for the life he provided her. She simply told him yes, she was ungrateful, for how could she be grateful for something that had taken her sweet son from her and left a sullen criminal in his place. He left that night, staying at an inn recently inherited by a friend, but he couldn't get his mother's words out of his mind. He was a criminal, he knew that, but did that mean he couldn't also be a good person? He knew he had gone overboard, gotten greedy, but was it safe to even stop? Could he change, or would the people who paid for him to lean on folks and send their messages simple kill him when he refused to work for them?
Hira set a drink in front of him at the bar. "I have a job for you." Six words that he had begun to dread hearing but when they came from a childhood friend they felt different.
"How can I help?"
She gestured around the tavern, "I can't run this place myself, I'm too small, I'd never get the respect I needed to get the drunks in line."
He nodded, her uncle had died almost a week ago now and the place had been closed since. She would need to find a way to stay open herself or sell the place.
"It seems a waste to sell it." she almost seemed to read his mind. "especially after all the work I put into it before Uncle died." she had taken over the books years earlier, saving the place from running it's self into the ground. It would be a shame to see that wasted.
"So, you want me to be your bruiser?" He wondered if that was it.
"Yeah, but I need you to live here to do it. I want a guard here full time, I can't have some asshole I had to throw out think, 'gosh that tiny thing lives there all by herself, what if I just..." She punctuated this hypothetical by strangling the imagined version of herself. "I'm not expecting this to be just another job, I want you to run the place with me. We'll split everything 50/50, the half I make with you will be worth more than any whole I could make alone."
He looked at her for a long moment, so long in fact she began to busy herself cleaning the mugs that hadn't been used since the place closed.
"Hira are you asking me to move in with you?" He finally asked quietly.
She froze for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am." She said, equally hushed.
The large common room, empty but for the two of them suddenly felt small and intimate. There was a tension in the air between them that had never been there before. Markus looked down at his drink uncomfortably. He felt like his actions were being weighed by some unknown force and that he had to tread carefully or risk ruining everything.
"I... would like that I think." He finally agreed. He looked up and made eye contact with Hira, she blushed but didn't look away.
"Well, I guess I should show you to your room..." She almost asked him.
"I would like that." He said again, setting his drink down and standing to follow her. His pulse was in his throat and he felt like he was moving almost against his own will, and the hesitance with which she lead him made him think she might feel the same. Up the stairs she led him down the hall to the last guest room, the one next to her own room. She opened the door and as he followed her in the pressure in the darkened bed-chamber was even greater than it had been in the common room. She looked at him, then looked at the bed, then back to him and held out a hand for him. He stepped closer and took it and the feel of her skin against his was electric, like the air before a lightning strike. This wasn't right, he shouldn't feel so... scared, surely? He should be excited, passionate perhaps, not... wrong. This was wrong.
"Hira I don't think..." He began but she cut him off by dropping to her knees like a puppet with it's strings cut. "Oh thank God!" She breathed. "I thought..." he swiftly pulled her back to her feet. "Hira what?! What did you think we were doing? I thought you wanted..." He clumsily tried to explain himself but the tension had broken and they were just two old friends again.
"I thought You wanted!" She exclaimed. "I don't have the money to pay you until we get the place running and I thought..." She embraced him gratefully and even this closeness held none of the uncomfortable pressure that had followed them up the stairs. He held her comfortingly for a moment.
"Hira, you are my best friend. I think you are beautiful but I would never... I would never." He struggled to explain himself but she seemed to understand.
"I know." she said, pulling away. "I know you wouldn't, I don't know what came over me. I... I think I want to go to bed now."
She left the room quietly and he sat on the bed. It was lumpy and a bit stale smelling but better than the one he'd grown up with at the laundry. He undressed for bed and laid in the dark thinking about how fast life seemed to change. Before long his thoughts and dreams were indistinguishable.
As he grew the jobs he took and the people offering them slowly became more unsavory. He was strong, and willing not to think too hard about what he was being paid to do. He started to come home with larger amounts of money, excitedly telling his mother she could relax, and that he could take care of her now. But it wore on him, he was willing not to question jobs but he realized he was less willing not to think about the jobs, and the more jobs he took as a brute enforcer the more they played over in his head. He started to become withdrawn, snapping at people, even friends, when they asked after his well-being.
The day his mother re-opened the Laundry they fought. He accused her of disregarding his sacrifice and being ungrateful for the life he provided her. She simply told him yes, she was ungrateful, for how could she be grateful for something that had taken her sweet son from her and left a sullen criminal in his place. He left that night, staying at an inn recently inherited by a friend, but he couldn't get his mother's words out of his mind. He was a criminal, he knew that, but did that mean he couldn't also be a good person? He knew he had gone overboard, gotten greedy, but was it safe to even stop? Could he change, or would the people who paid for him to lean on folks and send their messages simple kill him when he refused to work for them?
Hira set a drink in front of him at the bar. "I have a job for you." Six words that he had begun to dread hearing but when they came from a childhood friend they felt different.
"How can I help?"
She gestured around the tavern, "I can't run this place myself, I'm too small, I'd never get the respect I needed to get the drunks in line."
He nodded, her uncle had died almost a week ago now and the place had been closed since. She would need to find a way to stay open herself or sell the place.
"It seems a waste to sell it." she almost seemed to read his mind. "especially after all the work I put into it before Uncle died." she had taken over the books years earlier, saving the place from running it's self into the ground. It would be a shame to see that wasted.
"So, you want me to be your bruiser?" He wondered if that was it.
"Yeah, but I need you to live here to do it. I want a guard here full time, I can't have some asshole I had to throw out think, 'gosh that tiny thing lives there all by herself, what if I just..." She punctuated this hypothetical by strangling the imagined version of herself. "I'm not expecting this to be just another job, I want you to run the place with me. We'll split everything 50/50, the half I make with you will be worth more than any whole I could make alone."
He looked at her for a long moment, so long in fact she began to busy herself cleaning the mugs that hadn't been used since the place closed.
"Hira are you asking me to move in with you?" He finally asked quietly.
She froze for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am." She said, equally hushed.
The large common room, empty but for the two of them suddenly felt small and intimate. There was a tension in the air between them that had never been there before. Markus looked down at his drink uncomfortably. He felt like his actions were being weighed by some unknown force and that he had to tread carefully or risk ruining everything.
"I... would like that I think." He finally agreed. He looked up and made eye contact with Hira, she blushed but didn't look away.
"Well, I guess I should show you to your room..." She almost asked him.
"I would like that." He said again, setting his drink down and standing to follow her. His pulse was in his throat and he felt like he was moving almost against his own will, and the hesitance with which she lead him made him think she might feel the same. Up the stairs she led him down the hall to the last guest room, the one next to her own room. She opened the door and as he followed her in the pressure in the darkened bed-chamber was even greater than it had been in the common room. She looked at him, then looked at the bed, then back to him and held out a hand for him. He stepped closer and took it and the feel of her skin against his was electric, like the air before a lightning strike. This wasn't right, he shouldn't feel so... scared, surely? He should be excited, passionate perhaps, not... wrong. This was wrong.
"Hira I don't think..." He began but she cut him off by dropping to her knees like a puppet with it's strings cut. "Oh thank God!" She breathed. "I thought..." he swiftly pulled her back to her feet. "Hira what?! What did you think we were doing? I thought you wanted..." He clumsily tried to explain himself but the tension had broken and they were just two old friends again.
"I thought You wanted!" She exclaimed. "I don't have the money to pay you until we get the place running and I thought..." She embraced him gratefully and even this closeness held none of the uncomfortable pressure that had followed them up the stairs. He held her comfortingly for a moment.
"Hira, you are my best friend. I think you are beautiful but I would never... I would never." He struggled to explain himself but she seemed to understand.
"I know." she said, pulling away. "I know you wouldn't, I don't know what came over me. I... I think I want to go to bed now."
She left the room quietly and he sat on the bed. It was lumpy and a bit stale smelling but better than the one he'd grown up with at the laundry. He undressed for bed and laid in the dark thinking about how fast life seemed to change. Before long his thoughts and dreams were indistinguishable.
Current Location
Age
19
Children
Eyes
Hazel
Hair
Brown
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Heavy work-man's tan
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