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Marcus McGovern
21 January 2020 @ 11:38 am
Our Last Resort TimelineCollapse )
Current Mood: busybusy
Marcus McGovern
12 February 2019 @ 11:53 am
CharLoft character sheet

Family information

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WolfCollapse )

RegenerationCollapse )

The ChangeCollapse )
Current Mood: accomplishedaccomplished
Marcus McGovern
12 May 2018 @ 03:19 pm
Not-so-quick referenceCollapse )
Current Mood: productiveproductive
Marcus McGovern
21 March 2010 @ 01:40 pm
Drabble-thingie stolen from various sources. You know who you are, you fine folks. I reserve the right to answer from any point in his main timeline, and maybe from his Quarantined storyline if I'm feeling like it.

Current Mood: boredbored
Current Music: Hammerfall - Warriors of Fatith
Marcus McGovern
29 May 2009 @ 11:34 am
Leaving Molly behind for three days should be no problem. He'd gone three months without seeing her, after all. And she was in good hands. Jody had her, and was likely spoiling the dickens out of the poor little thing.

And yet he felt strange without her familiar presence. Her scent, a blend of Chelsea's and his own with a touch of something that was uniquely her. The sound of her tiny snores as she slept, her fluttering heartbeat.

There was plenty to listen to instead. A stream nearby was crashing over stones, laughing at itself as it went. Birds zipped overhead through the morning sky, their wings and tiny hearts beating in his sensitive ears. One of his favorite sounds, wind through pine trees, was the loudest, crashing like waves overhead.

He sat on a rock, one knee drawn up to his chest, listening. His hands felt empty, and that familiar tug was pulling on the back of his brain. The need for a smoke was strong, but he pushed through it. Smell other things. The ashes of the campfire, the dampness to the morning air, animals, plants, his mate. He could smell her strongly, hear her breathing in the tent behind him, still asleep. For the moment.

This had been what he'd needed. Getting away from the others, away from the stress, back into his natural element. He was a creature of solitude, a lover of the wilderness. Steel and concrete felt alien to him. Solitude and the wild were where he belonged.

A shaft of light pierced over the top of the mountain, filling the small space with the first direct sunlight of the day. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, smiling at the awakening of the world.

He heard a rustle behind him but did not turn nor open his eyes. "Can we stay up here forever?"
Marcus McGovern
((Okay! I'm going to write the bulk of the post here, and leave off at certain points for you to add your input, which will be worked in to the growing posty thing. This doesn't need to go like usual RP/threads. You can just reply with a mun's note of what she would do, or write a narrative RP response. Whatever you're motivated to do to help keep it going. If, at some point, you think she'd say or do something in the middle of my ramblings, let me know, and I'll incorporate it. I am working off the assumption that Jody and co. are along for the ride, but it can be just the two of them if you like. Undetermined yet is what sort of restaurant it is, and the occasion. Also, somewhat unrelated, but before I forget: if Molly was born on September 1, then wouldn't that mean they got their drunk on at the beginning of December, not the end? Or am I Special Edwina?))

Always have a plan. It's like defensive driving. You may be the safest person on the road, but the other idiots out there can hit you all the same. When dealing with eating in a strange environment, be defensive, keep all options under control. Keep medicine on you and with companions at all times. Wear alert jewelry on the off chance that you are alone when something bad happens. But above all: remain calm. Remember that, if the situation is handled quickly and calmly enough, everything will be fine.

Of course, this is getting a little ahead of things. Any good defensive strategy begins with prevention. Avoidance being the key, followed by alerting those handling the food of special requests so that there is no contamination. Carefully prepared speeches ("I have a food allergy to various forms of shellfish. Please tell the chef that my food should not be prepared in the same pan, with the same tools, or on the same surfaces as dishes containing seafood.") and carefully chosen menu items is the best start. Being on the alert and having a strategy will ensure the best outcome if the worst happens.

And yet, things don't always go according to plan.

Marcus had learned many years ago not to worry about foreign environments. He always played his part, keeping medication handy and informing the staff, which was the very best he could do.

Sitting with his arm around his wife's shoulders, his thumb gently running up and down her skin, listening to the chatter at the table, everything was going along smoothly. ((This is the part where I might talk about why they're there, maybe we can work out some chatter for the group? My brain is sort of stopping right now, any ideas before I continue?))
Marcus McGovern
16 May 2009 @ 11:46 pm
September 25, 1999 - Stanley, IdahoCollapse )
Current Mood: nostalgicnostalgic
Marcus McGovern
He couldn't remember the last time he'd left the compound. Actually, he could, but that was on pack business, and he hadn't strayed more than a few miles from the border. It totally didn't count. No, since moving to the compound the day Stephen died, he had not left it. Four months surrounded by the same trees, the same buildings, the same smells. It was infuriating. All he wanted was to get out for a while, but the thought of that brought fear. Something could happen while he was gone. And then there was the fairness factor. Why should he get to leave when no one else could?

No one had his responsibilities. And sometimes, when you're the boss, you need to get away from all the people that make your life crazy every day.

So this was precisely how he found himself hand in hand with the most beautiful woman in the entire world, strolling down a beach in Atlantic City. He couldn't enter New York, it was too dangerous, and he hated it, anyway. This location was nice and far from the compound, and the air was nice, and the people strangers who were unlikely to recognize him or follow him home.

The two of them hadn't been out together in months. Nearly a year, in fact. July, was it? Maybe there were one or two outings in October, but he couldn't remember. It had been too damn long.

He wrapped his arm around Chelsea's shoulders, pulling her close to kiss her temple. "Today we're normal people," he whispered to her ear, lips lightly tickling her skin, "question is, what do normal people do on their day off?"
Marcus McGovern
06 May 2009 @ 01:43 am
Before anyone else says anything, I'm doing this for myself. Yes, Chelsea had her say, and I took her opinion into consideration. And of course Molly's health is a factor. In the end, however, the choice was mine. I need to stop thinking that the cigarettes will solve my problems for me. I need to stop retreating to a smoky haze whenever things get too stressful to deal with. They dull my emotions, and they dull my senses. Already my sense of smell is better than it has ever been in my life. It started out as an addiction, and became a crutch. Not to mention all the money I blow on them that I could be spending on food for my family.

Yes, it's left me cranky and a pain to deal with. Yes, I picked a really horrible time to do this. The physical and emotional stress I'm dealing with is not helpful to a person in my position. I realize all this, but you know what? I don't care. Again, I made the choice for me, to help me become a better, stronger person. If I can beat this, I can beat anything.

I'm doing well, so far. Physically, I feel like a wreck. It's lessening, though. Emotionally, I'm somewhat close to a two-year old, prone to tantrums and inappropriate feelings. I'm trying to keep that to myself.

Patience is the key, here. One day at a time, and this will prove to be more than just an experiment.
Current Mood: awakeawake
Marcus McGovern
05 May 2009 @ 11:07 am
Caught up in a bit of a childlike huff, Marcus made his way down to his circle, his sacred place. These emotions were perfectly normal, really, but he hated them. He hated feeling helpless. Of course, it was more than that. There was a real sense of loss, of mourning. He was beginning to doubt his decision. He was stressed out enough, on the verge of depression already, feelings that were magnified hundreds of times by the abrupt lack of nicotine in his blood.

Of course, in the long run, the lack of the drug would actually improve his ability to handle stress. He didn't see that now.

It had been stupid. A young couple had been arguing at breakfast, as they always did whenever in the same room with other people, and he'd had enough. He left. Perhaps a bit loudly and dramatic, but everyone had come to expect it.

This was one of those moments where he really wished he'd kept a single cigarette stashed away somewhere, rather than dumping them all on someone else with express orders never to let him have one. Relapse was not the answer, and he knew this. But damn, the need was there, and it consumed his every thought.

He kicked a stone as he entered the circle and pressed his back against one of the trees marking its border. His knees gave and he sank to the ground, head in his hands. Focus on breathing. Clean air, oxygen, the scent of pine and safety. Eyes squeezed shut, he concentrated on cleansing, and in moments the craving passed, leaving him shaking.

He put his head back against the tree, feeling the hot sun coming down on him. He slipped into a meditative state, listening to the sounds of the earth around him, and feeling her presence. He could do this.