Marcus scowled, pulling the scarf he had stolen higher up on his nose to block out the smell of burning gasoline as he stepped off the bus. He wasn't a city boy, never had been, having spent his entire childhood at Camp Half Blood, but while he may personally have a distaste for the city, he had to admit there was a certain beauty to it. And it's easy to disappear.
He had sped away from Camp as fast as he could, using his newfound speed to ride the winds across the landscape until he finally arrived at his destination. He had been so focused on his task he hadn't taken notice of how much time had passed, but he knew he had made the journey in good time. He wasted no time in… acquiring a few things, following the smuggler lessons he and Aaron had created when they used to do this kind of thing all the time. And while the crowds of New York weren't necessarily to his liking, all it took was some simple Mist manipulation, in honesty the only type he had ever been able to master, to walk into one of the thousands of cheap, off brand and knock off shops that seemed to litter the city and walk out with a pair of "artfully torn jeans", whatever the hell that meant, as well as a gray and red plaid button up hoodie, a messenger style bag, and a bright blue scarf.
Not remotely my style… and that's what I'm counting on. He had smiled at the thought at the time, pulling the red lined hood up and pulling the scarf up over his nose. He knew the first thing that Chiron would do when he found Marcus was missing would be to have an Iris message sent to try and track him down, probably using Maddie to guilt him into coming home. Hence the new look. If Chiron went down that path, he would have to at least try and scout out the area Marcus was in first, to avoid any interference with Mortals. Sure, Iris would be able to show the Camp where Marcus was, but if it was just one face in a crowd of thousands, wearing things he normally wouldn't be caught dead in… They'll hesitate. And that's all I need.
For a second he paused, looking at the scene before him. Even in the middle of such a bustling city, the trees before him were tall and proud. He had no idea what it looked like during the Age of Jackson, but Marcus felt that these trees had stood for hundreds of years, forming a natural archway over the path before him as he entered Central Park. As he walked the path, he remembered the few times Alicia had talked about Orpheus and his door while they had been together. She had been smitten with the story from the first time she heard it, loving the sheer recklessness that had caused this mourning lover to force his way into the darkest place a human should be able to reach. She had babbled on about Orpheus' Door, even taken them here to find it, though Aaron had called them back to the rest of the Smugglers before she had been dumb enough to use it.
Marcus smiled under the scarf still covering his face as he walked down the path of memory lane, for just a moment allowing the happier times to exist with his current reality before he brought himself back to his task at hand. He was going to get to Orpheus' Door, and he was going to open it himself.
Marcus walked around the Pond to an oddly placed pile of boulders. At least, it seemed odd to him, but maybe that was simply because he knew what it truly was. He stood before the entrance, and only then did he stop to wonder…
How the hell do I open this thing?
He thought back to the story of Orpheus, how he had sung so beautifully and so longingly that the very stones beneath his feet gave way underneath him. He shook his head with a sigh. If only Chastity could see me now… She would undoubtedly be over the moon at what he was contemplating.
It took him little time searching the park before he found what he was looking for. A group of what he assumed to be college kids, all sitting around and chatting in a quieter section of the park. And there, right by the edge of the group, was exactly what he was looking for. Marcus watched the group for a while, confident in his ability to keep himself hidden among the trees, just as these young adults apparently enjoyed hiding from their own troubles sitting in this isolated clearing. He watched for the perfect moment when the owner of the object in question was distracted by a particularly pretty brunette beside him and, without barely a sound, moved through the tree cover past the group, back in the direction he had come from, taking his newly "acquired" prize with him.
Finding himself back at the pile of boulders, Marcus placed his prize on the ground before him. With a rueful sigh, he reached down and undid the clasps holding the case closed, opening it to reveal a simple wooden guitar, nestled in its red fabric cushions.
Sorry guy, but I need this more than you did obviously. Marcus shook his head and reached down, picking the guitar up and adjusting its strap as he did. He would never have admitted it to her, but Marcus had kept up with his practice after his first few lessons with Chastity. He had found it infuriating that she had found something that he was embarrassingly mediocre at, and thus had stubbornly clung to the practice as a way to prove he could master whatever he had set his mind to. Not that he ever had entirely mastered it, but even he could tell he had improved in the time since he started.
Now it's time to put it to the test. Slipping the guitar strap over his head, making sure it sat comfortably, he took a few deep breaths before he started strumming the strings with a pick he had found in the case before scowling and quickly tuning the horribly out of tune instrument. Once the instrument was tuned to his expectations, Marcus started strumming again, mimicking a song he had once heard Chastity play. He couldn't remember it in its entirety, but he knew the melody had been haunting to his ears, full of longing and expectation. He found a small smile coming to his lips. You better appreciate this once I find you.
Slowly, the rocks before him slowly started shifting. He kept playing, though he knew he played some notes that were out of key, and even flinched at some of his own mistakes, but eventually the rocks before him finally cracked open, leaving a triangular entrance in the side of the stone. Marcus sighed with relief and took the guitar off his shoulder before putting it back in its case and slinging it across his back, in case he needed it on the way back.
I'm coming, Songbird. Just a little longer.