Yeoldebard

Marcus shuffled uncertainly in line. The low hum of voices permeated his brain, cresting into a thunderous swell whenever he slipped into thinking about it. Buttery popcorn drifted on the air, and his stomach growled. His leg stimmed relentlessly, his eyes flicked every which way, he could barely pay attention to the colourful posters promoting whatever movies were playing that day. “Okay, double checking,” Brian said suddenly. “No pills of any kind today?” “Nope.” “Plenty of water?” Mar

It's basically Patrick trying to get Marcus out of his introverted shell. Patrick and Erica tutor each other during lunch, and since Marcus was there too, they dragged him into it.

“Step one.” Marcus shut his eyes. He felt his headphones slip off, and Patrick ruffled his hair, leaving it a bird’s nest with hairs sticking in every direction. “These are totally fucking you up, bro. They scream “I’M SPECIAL!” Not a good look.” “I need them,” Marcus protested, clapping the headphones back over his ears. “The world is obnoxious sometimes. People yell and scream, parents hate you, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Roll with the punches, and have a stiff drink a

Actually, this is the full story. It's just a short fanfiction that's been floating around in my mind since I finished the Old Peace quest.

The Dark Refractory is the key to unlocking memories long repressed. For Tenno, those memories rarely end happily.

The problem with the Dark Refractory was you never knew just what nightmares awaited. Well, among other problems, but as Sage awoke to the memory of being buried in an avalanche on Perita, they cursed their ignorance of just what memory this was above all else. Breaking free was easy. A few hundred tonnes of rubble wasn't going to keep a Warframe down, and even Dante, beloved scholar of the Entratis, was more than strong enough to escape the rocky tomb. And the instant their head broke the s

Out of necessity, Marcus ditched the school bus. Patrick didn’t know where he lived anymore. Of course, where there was one problem, dozens more were bound to appear. Patrick wasn’t allowed to run off on his own. Brian, of all people, had been pressed into service as Patrick’s school chauffeur/warden. A horrible decision, really, but they took full advantage. Trapped in a noxious backseat while Brian lit yet another cigarette, Marcus fought with the ancient car’s rolling window. He was absol

The secret was out. And life went on, with one huge caveat: Sakis was not to be alone with Marcus at any point. The two cackled about it the second they were on the bus together Monday morning. Walking to the bus stop, walking home, hell, three or four whole hours after school, Jessica was at work. And telling a teen no was tantamount to begging them to do whatever they shouldn’t. Yes, Marcus loved his mother, and respected her decisions. It didn’t mean he was going to follow every single or

It could all be over in one short sentence. Water poured over Marcus as he waged war in his mind. One sentence would spare Patrick a lifetime of agony. One sentence would condemn Marcus to some government lab somewhere. There was no in between either. He couldn’t march up to Patrick’s house with Sakis in tow; the whole conceit hinged on Sakis’ vanishing act. Either Marcus proved beyond a doubt that he controlled an immortal satyr, or Patrick continued living through unspeakable horrors.

Rob looked at his sheet. Rob looked at Marcus. Rob looked at his sheet. “F3,” he ordered. “Fa….” Frowning, Marcus tried the note, wobbling a bit, falling a little high… lower… nope, too low. Shit. “F5.” He worked higher, still wavering as he tried to exercise his voice. Rob grunted. “B2. Si….” Marcus copied him yet again… or tried to. A croaked falter cut him off, and he scowled, trying again. Another sigh. “Alto,” Rob conceded. “Keep on the border, though. When you break, you can

One week before high school. One week to do everything he needed to do. The pressure was on. Swaying on a bus, Marcus stared obsessively at his phone. Three stops… two stops…. He yanked the yellow cord, and the bus slowed, sending Sakis falling into a man’s lap. “Nice view,” the satyr complimented, only to be shoved away roughly. “Rude….” “Come on,” Marcus grumbled, dragging him off the bus. In the middle of Sacramento, he was almost positive his mother wouldn’t catch them. Still, the th

“Quite. Like in my report: £20,000 for a... "Candi".” “That’s “Candi” with an I, by the way.” Sakis snorted, breaking off when Marcus raised an eyebrow. He groaned, pausing the video on Marcus’ laptop. “Seriously, congregate with your peers. Get outside, socialise, talk with people your age! LIVE!” Marcus stared at him expectantly. “It’s a common name among prostitutes. You hear “candy”, but it’s actually a person.” “Thank you Walter,” Marcus grinned. “Ugh….” “Hey, the last time

Fall birthdays sucked. 14 years old meant high school, meant growth, freedom! Yet Marcus trudged into the first day of 8th grade to a crowd of thirteen year olds who thought they were the shit because they could count past three. Silver lining? Patrick was 14, and had been ferried away to Oakmont High School. Marcus had an entire year free of the bastard before he’d have to claw his way free of whatever rumours Patrick had seeded the school with. For as long as he could remember, that asshole

“That good for nothing bastard!” Marcus slammed his door shut. Picking up a pillow, he hurled it at the wall, making a wholly unsatisfying thump. “Trouble in Lovers’ Lane?” Sakis glanced up from the laptop. “SHUT UP!” “Make me.” Marcus threw himself into his bed, screaming into the fallen pillow. “Calm down there, Achilles.” “He used me!” “Michael?” Sakis shrugged. “Define “used”.” “Do you know what he just said to me?! “So long, and thanks for all the dough”!” “Hitchhiker’s

“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!” Rufus stared glumly past his mother. On the counter, a small cake sat untouched, thick frosting screaming “Happy Birthday!” to the kitchen. A window looked out at burning streetlights that held night at bay. Sakis’ fingers thundered over a modified keyboard, filling out lists of Doric and Attic words beside English and Latin counterparts — though if Jessica asked, he was working on learning Koine. There was even a colourful bag with a ribbon