I shouldn't love you but I want to,
I just can't turn away.
I shouldn't see you but I can't move,
I can't look away.Username: Ikaaaaaaaaa.
Kennel Number: ~1
Name: Marvel Quick.
Gender: Male.
Breed/Species: Canine/Human.
And I don't know how to be fine when I'm not,
Because I don't know how to make a feeling stop.
Personality: Marvel is the half-brother of Faro, and therefore holds a fairly high status- not that he chooses to accept it. Instead, he has resigned himself to his job, which he does with devotion and passion.
Background/History:"Corporal Quick? Sir?"From the wary tone of the soldier, Marvel Quick could tell he had been there a while.
He inhaled sharply, lifting his head from his hands and blearily rubbed at one eye with a gloved hand.
”Apologies- I was just...” He paused, trying to summon an excuse. None seemed to come to him.
”I was just sleeping. You know how it is.” Marvel finally managed, snuffing the candle and standing to shake the younger man’s hand. The stranger regarded him with wide, fearful eyes. Mud splattered up his pale complexion, and he was as thin as a rake- trembling like an aspen. Marvel frowned at him, allowing the solider to enter the tent.
”Can I help you with something?” He asked curiously, resisting the urge to give the boy a strong cup of tea and a good hug.
He looked terrified. That wasn’t something that surprised Marvel these days- many boys much younger than himself had been drafted into this godforsaken war, and just as many had fallen on the field under enemy fire. Marvel himself had at least become used to the sudden thundering of bombs, the hissing of scattering bullets. The sound of a man’s dying scream. Either way, Marvel could empathise with the haunted emptiness of the young soldier’s eyes.
”Erm..Yes, Sir. I’m your apprentice. I’m under your training and command until the end of this war or death do us part.” Such strong words from such a frightened person.
”I expect it will, my lad. But I don’t intend for it to be during this war.” Marvel reached forwards- placed a hand on his quivering shoulder.
”Settle down, lad. We’ll be just fine.”./././.
Once the boy's bones had warmed, his incessant shivering came to a halt. They were sat around a lantern, sipping a weak brew from a thermos Marvel had weaned from one of the road cooks. The soldier's name was Finnick Altroy, and he was actually quite important. The son of a Captain- shockingly rich and the owner of an entire estate, not that he know what to do with it.
"Will we be on the frontline tomorrow, Sir?" Finnick asked quietly, the subdued air about him not yet gone.
"I expect so. Don't fear- we'll be back before you know it. If you stay with me, you'll learn the ropes pretty quickly." Marvel answered, regretting each word as they left his lips. He would not lie to this boy, but neither would he cause premature fear.
Guilt stirred in his gut. No doubt one morning, Marvel would lead this boy to his death. Or vice versa. He was sorry. Sorry that Finnick was to face much worse then what he had seen already. The scars from tomorrow would be ever etched in his flesh, so long as he'd live to heal from them.
Yes- Marvel thought grimly.
I'm sorry for that.Use:Other: SunnyD