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Mark Cohen
01 December 2010 @ 06:01 pm
for Mark Cohen
Mark Cohen
03 August 2009 @ 11:33 pm
Mark wasn't shocked by many things, but the speed and efficiency with which Angua pulled a party together was a thing of wonder. There were lists and orders and locations and food and drink...enough things to make his Boho head spin. Mark's idea of a party (and Roger's too, he was sure) consisted of some booze and some weed, some good music and an open door. Parties, as far as he knew, just happened.

Except apparently not.

Angua had organized everything, from the Speakeasy at the Catscratch Club to the guest list to the cake. And the decorations. And the...everything.

When it was time and people started to arrive, he stepped back a little and let his camera roll. He'd edit this later, but for now he was gathering raw footage, the pure emotion of another year marked in smiles and tears, in heartbreak and delight. Zoom in, close on Roger. Pan left to Dean and Angua. Tight shot of Prior and Maureen. Scan the crowd slowly. Every face was documented, every glad wish caught forever with the lens of the witness.
Mark Cohen
26 February 2009 @ 04:41 pm
There were screw up and then there were Screw Ups. There were things like not paying the phone or heat bills and getting things cut off. There were things like selling your soul for cash to pay said bills. Those hardly registered in a lifetime. But then there were things like letting the love of his life drift away because he'd been too inattentive and wrapped up in his own bullshit. He didn't think he'd ever quite be right with roger again. And now? Now it would probably never happen. Not with the screw up of all screw ups.

If he hadn't been drinking, if he hadn't been lonely, if he hadn't latched on to the first person who'd shown interest in him since Tosh vanished (that wasn't Maureen because, face it Markie, Maureen would always be there), if he had been thinking at all he wouldn't have woken up on Wednesday morning with Roger's ex-boyfriend naked in his bed and he wouldn't have looked like the Clinique counter at Macy's.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck was all he could think. He needed to talk to someone, needed to try to get out from under the crushing guilt. Maureen was his first thought, which he quickly disregarded because he had a feeling she just wouldn't get it. And it wasn't like he had many friends to turn to. Not that would be understanding and yet not tell him it was all going to be okay. He found himself at Angua's, hoping he wouldn't have to face Dean and Roger, too. God, he wasn't ready for that. Just Angua. She'd...help. He hoped.

Close on Mark at the end of a walk of shame, knocking on a door that might open onto some perspective.
Mark Cohen
17 January 2009 @ 12:56 pm
What this meme is all about is expanding on that, to better create a personal history that you can then use to better build personal development. To paraphrase Lindsay, "it's not intended to be a way of avoiding/handwaving actual threads but rather a way of kickstarting them and getting a better idea of where our characters stand with each other. It's a small island, and it's likely that a lot of our pups have interacted, maybe in little ways." The details can be silly or trivial (They see each other at breakfast everyday), or a shared anecdote (Remember that time when they got attacked by the angry parrot?), or the seeds of a bigger plot to be played out later.
Mark Cohen
12 October 2008 @ 12:05 am
Things weren't so bad. He was waiting on a story from Lyra and he'd been spending time with Tosh. A lot of time. Today, though, he'd woken up in his own hut and stared at the ceiling for a minute before he got up and headed for the compound. He'd liked the rain and the cold, but it was too warm for the jacket and shirt he'd layered over his other clothes. When he got to the kitchen, he laid them over a chair, grabbed some coffee, and took a seat. A battered copy of Lolita came out of his back pocket and he began to read, even though he'd read it a hundred times before.

When he saw Bill come in he smiled...but it faded quickly when he really took note of the look on his face.
Mark Cohen
21 September 2008 @ 03:01 pm
Mark had had the best night. Never mind he'd had to watch Tosh dance with Harkness. Never mind the fact that Maureen was pulling one of her dramas, which he should have expected after the show she'd been putting on for a few weeks. Never mind the fact that he could hear Mimi on the wind, laughing at how long it had taken him to get up the nerve. No matter all the people involved who made this so much more connected and complicated than just the two of them. Nevermind all of that shit, he had had the best night.

After the party, Mark had gone home with Tosh and they'd talked. They'd kissed. They'd...he wondered if it had been like this for Collins and Angel, something so scalding hot so fast. Of course, looking back, it hadn't been fast at all. It had taken months.

Mark walked along the boardwalk, humming the affirmation softly and smiling at everyone and everything. He felt, today, fuckin' fabulous.
Mark Cohen
12 September 2008 @ 04:16 am
Mark was getting ready for his lunch with Tosh. He wasn't quite sure if he should call it a date. There would be food, sure, and they were going to go someplace nice and maybe swim. He'd like to think it was a date, but he didn't want to read anything into it that wasn't there.

It had been 900 minutes, give or take, since they'd made plans. He'd hardly slept the night before. He'd gotten new corduroy pants and a button down shirt that he wore under a faded red t-shirt. He looked as nice as he ever did (unless he was going to court or a funeral). He'd really needed to change after helping Sheppard hobble into the compound, but that was nothing, really. Just helping out a friend.

He wasn't the best cook, so he pulled together what looked good from things other people had made. While he was in the kitchen he heard buzz about a party and wondered if, maybe, if lunch went okay, and swimming or whatever was good...

He probably shouldn't be trying to figure out how to spend as much time as possible with Tosh while Jackson was with his father, but he couldn't help it.

There was no way this wasn't a date.
Mark Cohen
27 July 2008 @ 07:37 pm
It didn't take that long to walk around the compound and past the animal pen to Mark's hut. He kept pace with House and walked in first, then pointed over to his room. It didn't sound like Maureen was here at all...not that it would have mattered if she was.

In his room, he moved a few things on a shelf that held some film cans and old books, sheets of paper, Mimi's heroin, and some coffee cups. It didn't get a lot of use, judging by the dust that got kicked up when he pulled out a bowl and a Gideon's Bible with most of Genesis missing. He held it up and grinned.

"Starving artist rolling papers," he chuckled, then sat down on the bed.
Mark Cohen
19 July 2008 @ 11:17 pm
Eventually Zack had made his way away from Maureen and the hut near the compound. Once he realized he was still on the island, he needed to get home, which was the Dojo. His current body, apparently named Mark Cohen, wasn't as accustomed to running along the paths. He might have tripped a time or two when he normally would have jumped out of the way or ducked, but he did at last make it to the dojo.

There had been a lot of people running around at such a relatively early hour. He had assumed something was going on, but he couldn't be bothered to find out what. If anything, it had made him hurry to the dojo to make sure everyone was alright there.

He rushed inside, hoping to find a familiar face. He glanced over to his corner, halfway expecting to see himself or at the very least his clothes, but there was nothing. If he'd been a little earlier, he might have caught himself and someone who looked exactly like Yuffie running out the door.
imax :: confusedconfused
Mark Cohen
19 July 2008 @ 09:03 pm
When Zack woke up, two things were immediately wrong. Firstly, the dojo floor was a lot more comfortable than he remembered. And secondly, he couldn't see a single thing. It was all an indistinct blur. Nothing clearly defined. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if it was just something in his eye. Finally he started squinting and realized he could make things out a little bit better though not by much.

He definitely wasn't in the dojo and he probably wasn't dead either. He doubted the lifestream or the promised land would make him blind. The room was tidy or at least he couldn't make out any shapes on the floor. Glancing over at the table next to the bed, something shiny compelled him to reach out. And then fall out of bed and land with a land.

"Owwww," he said, then putting his hands over his mouth with a confused expression. He couldn't see, but he felt...skinnier than usual. Unable to put his finger on what was off, he looked back at the table and found it was a pair of glasses. For reasons beyond him, he put them on as though it was a natural thing he did everyday. Suddenly the room became focused again. He sighed with relief. One thing figured out that was more than he could have hoped.

Now he could get a proper look at his body. He didn't like what he saw, but it could have been worse. At least it was a body. He considered going back to bed for a moment. Maybe this was all just a really annoying dream. He flopped onto the bed, lying across it, just staring at the ceiling.
imax :: confusedconfused