Marcus turns in his catch with a minimum of snark from Placidus this time, but a whole lot of wary stares and upturned noses. If one person is doing as well as he did today in this small of a town, it probably means the rest of the fishermen will be coming in with meager hauls. Marcus makes a point of staying away from the more popular fishing areas, tries to keep out of the locals' way, but it won't stop them from scowling at his oh-so-rare good fortune. He doesn't pay them any mind as he takes his slip to get cashed and then heads out to buy some much needed essentials.
His first stop is to get some new boots- the ones currently clunking about on his feet are so worn they look as though they've been passed down through the family for generations, even the laces having been replaced with a hearty twine a few weeks ago. There're only two clothing shops in town, one across the street from the other. The first sells exclusively to ladies, though the fashions that occupy the window are years out of date, and the other sells to the men of the town; the entirety of it populated by muted greens, greys, and navy blues.
Marcus tosses his old boots in the bin outside before he enters, eyeing the hole in one of his tattered socks just big enough to let his first toe poke out and makes a mental note to get a new pack while he's at it. Looking for something his size, not really caring about many other details, he is hit with the image of Esca, drowning in Marcus' old clothes and still wearing that greasy old jacket. He stuffs a shoebox under his arm and heads over to the smaller sizes of clothes, feeling foolish as he tries to guess what Esca might like, or what might look good on him. He picks out random things, ranging in colors and fabrics, before strolling to the counter to pay. When he drops his things near the cash register and fishes out his wallet, the cashier gives him a strange look and hesitates before ringing him up. "These'll never fit ya Circus, can't you see that?"
"Uhh…" Marcus wipes at his mouth, looking anywhere but at the shop keep and fidgeting. "They're-ah not for me." He grimaces as the man shrugs his shoulders and continues on, tossing everything in a few plastic bags.
"Who's it for then?"
"I-ah… a boy. A boy that I fished from the waters." The man gives an exasperated huff, apparently chalking this off as just one more thing the town fool has got stuck in his head. Marcus is thankful that Esca's story is just absurd enough to cover for him, never being very good at lying, he would've outed the kid in a day if it were otherwise.
You've been trying to figure out your shoelaces for the last twenty minutes when you hear the grind of gravel and the sputtering of a motor outside. Your first instinct is to run or maybe even hide, but you force yourself to take a few deep breaths and stay in the chair. You turn your focus back to the boots as you hear a car door slam and footsteps as Marcus begins his descent. The laces take all your concentration as you knot them every way but the correct one, and unconsciously you find your tongue sticking out the corner of your mouth whenever that happens. Marcus clomps his way through the door and hefts some bags up on the dining table, immediately moving to unpack them without even looking your way. "I got you some…. things."
"Things?" You look up from your task as he pulls some groceries out of a few brown paper bags, but hesitates over the lumps in the plastic ones.
"Necessities. And stuff. Even boys from the water need to eat, right? Need clothes-" He finally looks over at you, with your feet up on the chair in front of you, sleeves pushed up into your armpits, tongue stuck out and hair mussed. It must be a silly sight, because his face changes, but it looks as though he's holding something back, and it has you confused. He taps an open palm across his other hand, which is closed into a fist, and takes a few stuttering steps forward before coming over to kneel beside you. "- need to… tie their shoelaces." He pushes the ever present knit cap back and off his head before reaching down and slowly tying the strings, pausing occasionally and looking up at you- waiting until you nod in confirmation before moving on.
"I'm not a kid you know." You're not sure why you felt the need to tell him that, but somehow it seemed important that he didn't look at you like a child. You blush at the confused look that crosses his face afterwards, and tug your sleeves back down over your hands, fiddling with the frayed edges as he finishes the second boot and moves to stand up, brushing some of the dirt from his knees.
"And how do you know that? Can't even tie your own shoelaces." The last part is framed as a joke, but it has a knot of embarrassment forming in your stomach and you hop up and cross over to his side, watching as he unpacks a bunch of clothes with a sidelong glance.
"Well, I don't really remember how old I was… am." You shuffle through the bland, but well-made clothes and search for the right words. "But I just don't feel like a kid. I- I'm… weary." Marcus frowns at that, looking like he wants to give you a hug, but grabs some things and sticks them in the refrigerator instead, ducking his head inside and staying there for a moment longer than needed.
When he pulls back out, he turns to you with something close to a smile on his face and blatantly changes the topic, "Did anything strange or wonderful go on while I was away?" You are thankful for the rescue from the awkward situation and find the lack of subtlety to be somewhat endearing, though you do roll your eyes at him.
"Why do you ask that?"
"I dunno." Marcus lets out a genuine smile as he thinks on it, turning around and leaning back against the counter, hands gripping the edges. "I guess it's a kind of wish- that something strange or wonderful might happen." His dopey grin is lopsided when he finishes and it has you smiling yourself, though you suddenly find your feet really quite interesting and share the expression with them instead of Marcus. You ponder it a moment, wishing you could give him an interesting answer, but knowing full well you did nothing but spend the day reading and swimming around the cove- two things you actually do remember how to do. So instead of giving him an answer, you push up onto your tip-toes and kiss him on the cheek. If you linger a moment longer than is acceptable, neither of you say anything. Marcus twiddles with the things on the table before clearing his throat and grabbing his keys.
"Thank you." It's almost a whisper when it comes out, but you know that he heard it even though he keeps walking, hands in his pockets. Almost as an afterthought, you call out to him before he makes it through the door. "Can I- can I clean up this place?"
He pauses in the doorframe and looks back at you, still clutching one of the sweaters he bought in front of you like a kind of shield. "I suppose." He steps down off of the porch and looks out over the sea for a few seconds before walking over to the open window and bracing himself against the sill. "How long are you staying?" He brushes at his nose and surveys the little place that you had begun to tidy, but made sure to keep everything just as it was before.
"That depends I guess…"
"On what?"
"On you." This comes out even quieter than the thank you and you shift awkwardly from foot to foot, still in the same place as before.
Marcus purses his lips at that and wrings his hands. "On me… If it depends on me you can stay forever." There's no hint of sarcasm or joke in his tone of voice this time and it catches you off guard, so you stay silent. "Forever, happily ever after, once upon a time." He chuckles and looks away before nodding, as though he was confirming this information with himself. "Just like a fairy tale." And with that he pats the window sill, and just noticing he still has the sweater clenched in his hands, tosses it back inside before hiking up to his truck.
Marcus doesn't want to admit that he's at the local library for anything more than curiosity's sake, but there's just something about Esca that is nagging at the back of his head. When he enters the librarian waves politely and offers a smile, no doubt happy to see him here for the first time in a long time. "What're you up to Circus? Been thinking you need to catch up on your reading?" Her name is Cottia and she's the only person in town that treats him decently, though she does carry an air of superiority around her due to the fact that she has degrees in a wide range of subjects, ranging from cultural mythology to marine biology.
She's one of the few people in this place with a genuine education in addition to her steadfast faith and she's always working hard to add even more to her resume. She never lets anyone forget it. "I think that's not my name." Marcus knows she means nothing by it- he's even found himself replacing his name with Circus from time to time. Y'know, if people say it long enough you start to believe it yourself. It doesn't take long for him to find what he's looking for- the library having the same square footage as any other establishment in the town, which is to say, not much. He examines the titles of the books for a few moments, the majority of the spines damaged or fading, but gives it up for scooping the lot into his arms and carrying them over to the checkout desk.
Cottia arches an eyebrow at the collection, but starts scanning them with only a slight eye roll. "So what's the story?"
"The story?" Marcus shoves his hands deep into his pockets and shifts from foot to foot as she takes her sweet time stamping the due date into each and every book, reading the titles aloud.
"Legends of the Selkie… Seal Morning… Foreign Tales of Merfolk…. " She lets the unasked question hang in the air, keeping a firm hold on his stack of books, though she's already finished.
"I'm-ah… researching." He thinks maybe this will appeal to her, that she'll understand. She's always doing research for some report or another.
"Researching for what exactly?"
"A-uh. A story, just like you said." He thinks maybe, just maybe she'll leave it at that, but after a few more seconds of awkward silence and still no move to hand him his books, he gives up with a tired sigh. "Well, once upon a time-" Cottia snorts and steeples her fingers, settling back into her chair like this is going to be the most entertaining thing she's seen all day. "What? That's how stories begin…." He wrings his hands and frowns, desperately trying to think up something that might sound believable, but he's just a bit too tired of everything today so he just lets it all out.
"It-uh…. It was a good time- and it was a bad time. There was a fisherman, and one day he was pulling in his nets when something heavy made them snag. It had been a long day and he was just about ready to give up, but at the possibility of a catch he pulled them in one last time. And…. he had caught a boy- fished him right out of the sea. He seemed to remember drowning, but not much else.
"So the fisherman, he hid the boy away from everyone, scared for him, because of him. But the fisherman took care of the boy, and in return, he sang. The boy from the net sang, his voice pure as the water he came from, but in a language the fisherman had never heard, mysterious as the sea's depths.
"He sings to the fish, and the fisherman catches them…. And, he looks human, but the fisherman, he can't be sure." Marcus finishes with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at Cottia.
But when he finally does, she is wearing this expression, somewhere between disbelief and awe, but there's something else there too. Maybe a kind of sad sheen to her eyes, but it is gone in a blink, and then she is clearing her throat, sitting back up straight, and pushing forward his books.
