Marcey, Marcey...

[Marcescens]

...It was misty, foggy with damp air. It had rained all throughout the night, being gray and blotty with terrible lightning and horific thunder. The storms the sea washes alongside the coast can be dreadful. Luckily nothing went really wrong, other then a tremendous light show and the thunder to follow.
But now it the air was crisp and cool ... with lots of fog and mist. The full moon was smeared inbehind the clouds, the smell of rain still there and making everything seem damp and soggy...

Several puddles, being anywhere from splashes to ankle deep, spread across the corn fields in random places. The stalks were huge, being able to hide a full grown man with plenty of room to spare. They were anywhere from 8 to 9 feet tall, filled with ears of sweet corn neatly wrapped in their green sleeves.

Trudging through the heavy fog and mist, old boots sinking in the mud, was Marcescens. The heavy humid air was beginning to form small beads of water on his orang pumpkin head like beads of sweat on a farmer's brow. His evil, mischevious gaze tore up the area in front of him as he looked about. His grin spread wide as he splashed along.

He loved his home. The corn grew tall, thick, and was shaped much like a maze in the way it was grown. Marcey loved it in such a way, that he was proud to call it his. Grinning, and laughing, then giggling, and wheezing, he trucked his way along until he found a dry spot in the dirt. It was moist, damp yet good enough. Here he could sit and atleast somwhat be dry.

Marcescens could honestly careless though. He was a scarecrow, dirty enough already, torn and raggedy. Giggling, he slumped to his torn knees and threw an armful of straw onto the ground. It was handy to have farmers as neighbors, who kept their straw clean and dry, with wood stocked high for fires.

Which was exactly wwhat he had in mind. Though Marcescens didn't really like fire, he still had the campfire at night to heat up.

Shoving the straw around until he had it into a little pile, Marcescens threw the large logs around it like a log cabin, and sat back grinning at his pathetic little fire job.

Grinning, he lifted the toe of his boot, wiped much off with his sleeve, and struck the matcha gainst it. Luckily, it worked. Besides. This was Marcescens' last match.
Fire hissed from the end, not finding a liking to the air.
Tossing it in the middle, the Scarecrow sat back amongst the corn stalks, flattening them out like a back rest.

Whistling to himself, he watch the straw catch with a childish giggle. "Straw is burnin' up like ...." He paused, his grin stretching face to face. "Burning straw!" Somehow, he found this wildly amusing, went into a fit of laughter which involved gut clenching and feet kicking, then sudenly still, he lay back in the corn and closed his triangular 'eyes', humming a strange tune.

[Marcescens]

Dusting off his gloves, the small fire light lit up and made the shell of his pumpkin head brighten up and dance with reflecting light. The black jagged mouth seemed to stretch inside the orange vegetable and never stop; his eyes matched. The straw stuffed inside his sleeves was beginning to 'wilt'; it was feeling limp, mushy, and as if to prove this theory, a small chirping noise filled the still air.

Marcescens coo-ed softly, placing a hand over his left side, where a heart would be on a normal living man. It was a cricket, and it was his soul, his heart beat, his life. This was how he was here, this was all he had. But the cricket was cold; the air was certainly not helping; but there was no way Marcey was moving closer to the dull fire. It was making an ache, and it made Marcey twitchy. It was the only pain he'd ever felt before.

Shuffling his feet in the dirt, he looked around him in the mist. It was still damp, but it was lifting ever so slightly.

The scarecrown grinned, stretching from ear to ear. This was the life. No worries, no anything. He made a noise that was a half sigh and a half purr as he sunk a little further towards the ground and the corn stalks. He liked this solitary at the moment; it allowed reflections. His wicked grin faded to appear neutral, as the obtuse triangle eyes stared up at the grey clouds and the runny, smeared moon.
It was quiet. So quiet, with the only exception of the quiet 'chirp' of the cricket, and the pops of the tiny fire.

[Sherlock]

**Through the silence, a soft swishing sound becomes apparent from the rows of cornstalks, sounding suspiciously like a dog stalking prey. With a few subtle rustling, Jack Stapleton enters the small clearing around Marcescens.** Good evening, sir. **The fair haired man says mildy, seemingly unbothered by the scarecrow's obiously inhuman appearance. ** May I? ** Stapleton gestures towards a somewhat drier muddy patch and kneels down by the fire, not bothering to wait for an answer from the oddly headed figure.**

[Marcescens]

Mercey titls a head to one side to watch this man come by and sit close to him. Why was he not running away in terror. Weren't people like him afraid of.... people... well, thing like him. His head goes back to it's normal level, curious.

Marcescens was surprised, but he didn't show it. His jagged mouth remained closed, only showing a thin line of where the cut was, his obtuse triangular eyes beaming with curiousity.

As if showing he didn't give a care in the world, he stretched back lazily, his straw stuffed limbs stretching as far as they could before he relaxed. The cricket grew fainter, as it grew into what sounded like a heart beat almost, but it was faint, and getting fainter as the cricket crawled deeper into the straw.
Marcey 'blinked' at this man, then he lazily rolled his head back and asked.

"Okee dokee wise guy, who are you?" He leaned forward, tucking his legs into a cross legged position. He leaned his elbos on his knees and rested his pumpkin head in his hands.
"You gonna sit here, you're gonna introduce yerself!" HE grinned, jaggedly from ear to ear.

[Moss]

ooc: Bad guys unite!!!

**China strides in, her fashion-model legs making quick work of any area. Looking at Marcey through half lidded eyes, she stands, hands on her hips. Unlike the scarecrow's ratty and decaying clothing, she's wearing her usual fashion. And a very fashionable fashion it is too. Black leggings reach down to knee-high leather boots, and her top is covered with a black trench-coat the reaches halfway down her thighs, belted in the middle to show off her hips. Under the v-neck of the slightly open trench-coat, one can see a very tight black shirt, leaving off at the base of her pale neck. Her hands are covered with gloves of the same black leather as her boots. While this outfit might be a little more... 'covering' then one might expect from a woman like her, she wears it so well, no man would be bothered by that little fact... Her black hair is whipped up into some kind of bun, seeming to defy gravity by being help up by a single wooden chopstick.**
Having fun, are you?
**She asks, before sighing theatrically.**
Must you choose a place like this? The dust is so bad for my joints.
**Suddenly, she notices Jack, and, takes a step towards him, her movements nothing like the clockwork doll she is. Her giant purple eyes look him up and down and she smiles a flirtily.**
And who's company do we have here?

[Sherlock]

ooc: mol! (mwahahahahh out loud)

**Jack smiles wryly at his neatly pressed trousers, reveling at his momentary possession of the upper hand. If not for the element of surprise, than for his taste in clothing. The comparison between the two men is almost comical. There's Marcescens, with his putrefied grinning pumpkin head, patched jeans, frayed cotton shirt the color of dried blood, and the nauseating scent of rotting straw emanating a full six feet around...it. Then there's Jack; sporting a recently laundered moon-white shirt, gray woolen trousers, a matching gray blazer, and to top it off, a tweed Norfolk jacket. It seems nonchalant, it seems casual. More importantly, it seems finished, and the very essence of Jack. Very few can pull off Norfolk jackets. Stapleton makes tweed look good. **

**A sudden addition to their party makes Jack stop in his thoughts. Almost forgetting his manners, he unfolds himself and makes a brief bow(or perhaps an exaggerated nod) towards the stunningly beautiful woman.**

Allow me to introduce myself, **He begins politely, taking off his overcoat at same moment and laying it over a stretch of ground, should she not want to settle in the mud like any self-respecting creature.** Jack Stapleton, at your service, at your command, at your side. **With a charming smile, Jack remains standing, waiting for the woman to make her move.**

[Moss]

**China's bone-white teeth flash a charming smile at Jack through her painted teeth. Raising on perfectly shaped eyebrow, she purrs to Marcey, without taking her eyes off of Jack.**
Mmmm.... I Was going to offer killing him for you, but I find him a rather nice addition.
**Moving to stand on his jacket in one smooth movement, she blinks at him with her over-sized purple eyes.**
Quite a pleasure Sir...
**She says, finally addressing herself to him. Her glass eyes look him over, and her smle grows a bit. She'd never seen anyone pull off such a horrid fashion statement so well. No matter how long it had been since a man stepped out of his house wearing such clothing, she has to admit that on him, it goes better then the people during who's century it was fashionable. He almost makes her wish more men shared the statement. Almost. Moving her eyes up to his face, she looks down- being three inches taller then he- at his features. Maybe a little old for her taste, but far from ugly. Not to mention there's that light in his eyes- the same that's so easy to see in Marcey's nonexistent ones. Anywhere else, she would have taken the uppermost pleasure killing him. Here, she has to recognize that Marcecens choice in business partners isn't lacking. Maybe a little too alive, but other then that, he seems highly suitable.**
Call me China. And I'll be more then happy to take you up on your offers. All three of them...
**Were her eyes real, they'd be shining as she adds this, stepping a bit closer to him, before retreating by half a step.**

[Marcescens]

Marcescens leans back against the thick corn stalks as China makes her entrance. His crooked mouth tweaks into a half smile, and his eyes seemed to darken their glow slightly. He loved it when China made perfect entrances... She always seemed to come out of no where at the perfect time.

Comfortable against his corn like throne, his smile faulters as he ponders off in thought. His hand strokes a small tear in the shirt of his right elbow, setting the straw back in place. He could let China do the talking for now. Darkness creeps into his eyes to a very faint glow, as his jagged mouth closes to a neutral 'position'.
He pushed everything away and sat with his thoughts. So a new figure suddenly wants to join their little 'group'. That was fine.. the more the merrier... but still Marcey wanted to know more about this ... stranger. Not everyone knows about him just quiet yet, so it was curious to know how he had sniffed them out.
China clearly didn't really approve of where he thought comfortable, but that could be sortted out later. Marcescens loved it in the corn fields. He would replace his old straw hopefully tomorrow at the farm not to far away, and hopefully then his 'cricket heart' wouldn't pain him so much.

His hat droops slightly at the front, covering his eyes as the firelight plays tricks, dancing eerily as it now shows the thin line of a frown.

It was an odd feeling, and he supposed it was probably what felt like 'heart burn' to someone of flesh and blood. His cricket started chirping again, and Marcescens drummed his fingers in the dirt by his side. Something didn't feel right. Cold crept over him despite the warmth of the fire. His hands were itching to do something, to get his hands wrapped around a throat, or blood in his straw.

[Sherlock]

A pleasure to make your acquaintance, China. **Jack murmurs, taking her hand and brushing his lips across it, a caress of silk on her gloved hand. As she steps away from him, Jack's eyes seem to flash with liquid fire, and his whole figure trembles as if possessed by some stronger power. This strange occurrence lasts less than a moment and within seconds Jack seems to regain control of his features and returns his piercing gaze to the still seated Marcescens.** As you might have gathered, I am Jack Stapleton. **With obvious less flirtation and a disdainful look, Jack reintroduces himself, ignoring the fact that just a minute earlier he was seemingly bewitched. **

[Moss]

China lowers her eyebrows, almost frowning for a moment as Jack seems to suffer some sort of attack. As it passes though, she simply giggles a bit before listening to his introduction, and nodding curtly. Marcey may be a rotting bag of straw, but he is her partner in crime, and, having allied with him first that makes Jack the outsider. Which means that, by criticizing Marcey, she takes it as him criticizing her choice in business partners. And that just ticks her off, which is really not an idea when your a single, killable male.
But for not she just gives him a dismissive wave of her hand and, bringing her flity smile back to her face, purrs,
"Yes, I had gathered that indeed."
Lifting one eyebrow, she adds in a tone that could crack anyone's shell,
"You do make quite a charming introduction, I must say..."

[Marcescens]

Marcescens stuggles to calm his inward battles, but he watches this... Jack... Stapleton... figure. He was truley curious to observe, he was hiding something, that was for sure. No one can be as polite as that without being secretly... something.
Take China for example... a bunch of clock works that will make a living man's heart skip a few beats, but actually she can be just like Marcescens himself. She has a twist.

Then again ... Jack... did come to probably the most deadliest and craziest 'group' there was in these parts, so naturally, if he didn't have a 'twist' then he wouldn't really be here in the first place. But something was there, that made Marcey twinge in the memory and feeling of being spat back from hell itself.

Marcey blinks, his mouth forming a straight curious line as he tilts his head to one side. His curiousity and devilish insticts pry their way forward as the torn scarecrow giggles darkly.

"Sooooooo.... Jack.... Stapleton..." He drums his fingers against eachother as the trademark grin spreads across his face. "What bring you to our little ... duo? What makes you think you're one of ussss...?"