[sylvanSpider]

Marco stared at the wanted poster in disbelief. Before him plastered on the wall was his likeness to a T. They got the wild red hair, the comfortable working garb, and even the eyepatch down exactly. The character drawn showed a more morose version of him than he generally liked to portray to people, his likeness bearing more of a frown. Then, at that point, it matched exactly. The artist had quite the eye and must have spent a good deal observing him. Then, they all did, didn't they?

Marco was a bit of celebrity on Ariacan recently. His gunslinging earned him quite the reputation albeit at the time being a negative one. Or, at least, one that was entirely too positive. Cheating?! What feckin' proof did they have for that one, eh? Am I that good? He scratched his head and pulled his hood over his red hair. He couldn't do anything about the eyepatch—he got terrible headaches without it—but he could at least hide his oh so obvious mane.

He turned quickly hoping no one saw him gawking at his own picture and connect the dots and shoved his hands in his pockets when he was nudged in both shoulders at the same time. He spun around on his heel getting ready to give a guy his but clamped his mouth shut when he remembered the situation he was in. There were two that were the culprits and they both spun around in that instance as well. He locked eyes first with the blonde one, then the brunette and turned to walk away when both sets of eyebrows raised and the auburn haired one stepped closer, “Oi, oi! You're Marco, ain't ye? Marco Devana? We're 'ere to see your show!” He looked completely starstruck, as did the other similar looking man.

Marco's eyes widened and he jumped at the former, putting a hand on his mouth, “SSHSHHH please. Please. I can't have anyone ah... knowing. Okay?” Marco pulled his hand away but the terror was still in his eyes when he saw that the brown-haired twin was going to be compliant.

Well, mostly.

He leaned in, “Why are you hiding?” The question was anything but playful, an ominous, predatory tone leaking through in the timbers, threatening to raise his voice if he didn't like the answer.

“Well ah, you know...celebrity status an' all that. I ain't in the mood for pictures, see...” Marco stammered putting his hands up almost defensively. For many, this would be believable. Marco was known as the shy guy gunslinger, and he lived up to that persona in real life, once even physically running away from fans wanting an autograph by jumping off of a balcony.

The twins, however, didn't buy it. Now, the blonde leaned in, “No other reason? That's some real terror in your eyes...erm...eye.” Marco was against the wall and the blond one loomed over him, his palm pressed on the wall above him, effectively trapping Marco where he was. “I just...can't....believe you. Can you, Damon?”

“Sure can't, Roek,” the one called Damon responded with an evil glint in his eye. Marco could have sworn he saw fangs, but he couldn't be sure. His right eye was going crazy showing him all of the possible outcomes and finally he decided that ducking out and running was the best option, which, he promptly did.

He took off running, weaving in and out of the crowd to the dismay of those he shoved past and to the twins who had lost their prey. “Let him run,” Damon muttered, “We'll be seeing more of him later.”