The misconceptions of Marshal Gordon. (Aug 2019)

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Caoimhe
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The misconceptions of Marshal Gordon. (Aug 2019)

Post by Caoimhe » Sun Sep 29, 2019 10:07 pm

Marshal Gordon.

I had run away from home - or rather, I had run away from the hell that my crazy bitch of a mother had told me was now supposed to be the home I owed the allegiance of my life and my womb. Turns out, I didn't much care for Chicago, or the people there that me mum was trying to get me ta call family. So I left. I hopped on a boxcar leavin the city and headed west.

I was promptly kicked out of the boxcar in the next town by the conductor since I hadn't bought a ticket - but I didn't have the coin to buy my way any further, so I just rolled when I hit the ground and strolled into the town broke as a rat fresh off a boat.

Marshal Gordon.

I saw him when I entered the saloon - him and every other man there sober or drunk enough to be a danger. I ordered a whiskey and after a sip instantly regretted the fact that I didn't have a gun to shoot the barkeep for daring to call the watered down shite in my glass any sort of relation to the water of life. I might have stopped at one drink (since I was broke) but when I complained about the whiskey, the barkeep told me that "as a woman I'm guessin you've just never had real whiskey. That's the way the REAL stuff tastes sugar." So, I felt morally obligated to drink away as much of his stock as possible before skippin out on the tab.
At least, that was the PLAN.

Five drinks in, the barkeep got the look of a narrow eyed Scott and asked me to pay my tab and I had to come clean with him that I didn't have any coin. He grabbed my wrist and was about to.... well, frankly I don't know what he was about to do because suddenly there was a fist propelling his face backwards away from me. I'm sure you'll be surprised as I was to learn that no, the fist did not belong to me! I looked over and there he was - fancy as a Silver Fang on Rank up day.

Marshal Gordon.

He paid my tab and introduced himself - asked if I'd let him pay for my room for the night. I only said yes after making it clear that it would mean NO SEX WHATSOEVER and not sharin said room with him or any of his mates. He laughed in delight at what he called my "spunk" ( which I frankly thought meant something else entirely at the time), and agreed to my terms.

He told me the next night when I saw him again that he had fallen in love with me - that he simply had "to make you mine!". I was wary.... but I was also broke and he was offering to pay for everything I could point at. So, I gave him a smile and let him spend his coin with no plans to let him make any real claim on me.
Again.... that was the PLAN.

Marshal Gordon - that man was the death of every good intentioned plan I ever came up with.

I don't remember how it happened - it was a whirlwind romance. I swear, it felt like after only a handful of nights I couldn't imagine my life without him. He was beautiful, loving, kind, strong and FUCKING RICH!! He professed his undying love to me and promised to show me the world - and then, immediately started to make good on his promise.

We traveled the country by train, by stagecoach, by horse, by foot and by boat. He taught me the sweetest ecstasy I had ever known - sex, kisses, fine living..... but loving him was also the darkest hell I had ever been in. He only traveled at night, he'd hit me when I pushed him TOO far, or when I lipped off to someone he said was too important, he ran me ragged with his needs... and he bit me.... a lot. I forgave him all of it.

I questioned myself about it at the time. In the day, when he was asleep next to me I would yell at myself over why I couldn't leave him - why I let him hit me when I'd never let anyone else EVER put their hands on me like that. I berrated myself for letting him control me, tell me what to do, order me around like a slave in front of his friends.... I couldn't figure out WHY I was letting him get away with it all. Oh, I know NOW of course - but then.... I had no idea. I thought it was LOVE.

Two years. TWO FUCKING YEARS I told myself we were in love. After all, he seemed as obsessed with me as I was with him so of COURSE it couldn't have been the blood bond that I learned about after he brought me into kindred society. (Oh yeah - that's right, I even fuckin forgave him the fact that he was a fuckin FANGER!!) So I swallowed it all down, lived as his ghoul and "LOVED" him... because I was convinced that he loved me back.

Until one day, in a bar very much like the one we'd met in, Marshal Gordon (aka my beloved Marsh) casually mentioned that the song the piano player had picked was his wife's favorite.

I saw red. I asked him for clarification - because of course he meant his ex-wife.... or his now dead wife.... right? Of course he did!

He laughed.
FUCKING LAUGHED!

I lost it.... and at the time, I thought I had lost it completely .....

"YOU'RE MARRIED??!!?!?! YOU'VE BEEN PROMISING ME THE WORLD FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS AND WHAT YOU'VE ACTUALLY MEANT WAS THAT YOU WERE TURNING ME INTO A MISTRESS AND A KEPT WOMAN!!! YOU OATH BREAKING, CHEATING BASTARD!! TWO FUCKING YEARS!!! I HAVEN'T SEEN A RING ON YOUR FINGER THE ENTIRE TIME I'VE KNOWN YOU!!
YOU CHEATING FUCK - I NEVER AGREED TO BE YOUR SIDE BIT OF STUFF!! I'M NO FRENCH TART WILLING TO BE A PAID FOR DUBERRY - YOU DON'T THINK IN TWO YEARS THE FACT THAT YOU'RE MARRIED WOULD HAVE COME UP AT LEAST ONCE???

WHAT THE FUCK YOU FUCKING CUNT-TWAFFLE?! WHAT THE FUCK, ARE YOU - ENGLISH?????

I thought I had lost control as much as I possibly could.
Judging from the expression on Marshal Gordon's face, that was what he thought as well.

Too bad for him that we were both suffering under the same misconception - because when he smirked, secure in the power of his three point blood bond over me - I lost control even more than either of us knew I could - and flames shot out of my hands.

Yes - you read that right - fucking FLAMES shout OUT OF MY HANDS.

Turns out, when flames shoot out of your hands at a vampire - they go from the cheating fuck you thought you loved to a pile of ash on the saloon floor and you go from blinded by blood to clear of the bond in an instant and wondering HOW THE FUCK YOU JUST SHOT FLAMES OUT OF YOUR HANDS!!

........ so..... yeah.
Marshal Gordon
..... whoops.
---- You have to be brave. Your courage to do what is right has to be greater than your fear of getting hurt. Be brave. ----

ClaytonMorgan
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Joined: Sun Sep 08, 2019 8:07 pm

Re: The misconceptions of Marshal Gordon. (Aug 2019)

Post by ClaytonMorgan » Sun Sep 29, 2019 10:10 pm

Ah... That explains her reaction to Clayton.

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