ABOUT MARIUS LAURENT

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CLAY

- An earthly material, finely grained which is formed from the decomposition of igneous rock. When this material is combined with water, it becomes plastic enough to be shaped. When subjected to red heat the material becomes progressively more dense resembling rock. 
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Marius Alvah Laurent entered the world with a sheen of gray cast on his skin and eyes sealed shut. Deaf to the screams of his mother as she clawed toward him “Where’s my baby?” scraping her throat. Numb to the needles stuck into his pliant arms and legs. Blind to the concern on the doctor and nurses faces as the seconds ticked away as too did their hope that he would survive this.
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Nearly a full minute had passed before he took his first rattling breath. The room rejoiced as he cried.
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(Your great-aunts like to tell this story as they rock on their trio of old, wooden rocking chairs, passing yarn between them as they knit. For hours you were stuck sitting cross legged on the floor, palms facing each other as you kept the yarn from tangling. If they were still alive today, they’d regale you of this story not because of the happy ending but because of the miracle. “We were all so sure you’d died, mon amour. But it seems you escaped death.” )
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FIRING

- Heating clay, glaze, enamel or other material to the temperature necessary to achieve a structural change. 
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Being a miracle in the eyes of his family may have made him a little cocky. A quiet child but very assured of himself about any situation, his confidence leaked into arrogance at the worst of times. It lent itself well enough to the sciences, of which he excelled in biology, chemistry, and physiology. But these loves only bolstered his true love of sculpture.
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From play-doh to clay, water and ice to metal, sculpture became his favorite thing, the classics were his bread and butter. Teachers teased him about being anachronistic, a time traveler that didn’t belong in this modernist world, who relished clever details to the human form. Steady hands would shape faces and figures and he would go so still as he focused on a single feature, it seemed as if he was carved from marble for long moments at a time. Biology and physiology were secondary to the art, the craft, the design. He dedicated himself to it all until she crossed his path.
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He met her in high school, his Cora. Another time traveler who wasn’t sure what time period she fit in. An adventurous spirit who cherry picked different parts of her personality with history as her guide. She wore bell bottoms and bomber jackets and sprinkled glitter under her eyes one day, the next a poodle skirt and converses. Her speech tested the waters of the 1920s, confusing and piquing the curiosity of many students that were deemed the bee’s knees. She came into classrooms loud without saying a single word.
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Cora laughed at his “high minded” answers in class. Cora made weird faces when he proclaimed he was better than most in just about everything. Cora snapped her bubble gum when he tried to pull a rank he didn’t have.
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So the day she leaned over his shoulder and told him that she liked his mermaid sculpture and that he was “a really cool egg.”, he surprised himself by asking her out.
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She surprised him by saying yes.
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Their conversation would repeat again when, years later as they graduated university together, he swept her into his arms and asked her to marry him.
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ROMAN WAX

 - Hard casting wax used for the investment process in the lost wax casting process. Usually used for fine detailing before casting rather than for direct modeling.
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The first few years of their marriage was a face-first tumble into graduate school and adulthood and it started with move from on Washington to another. D.C. was left behind with the promise of starting a new life, even though their small studio apartment, student loans, and so much debt between them threatened to bury them under. But there were (tangled) fairy lights in the dark, holding each other under comforters during thunderstorms, and kisses during picnics. Yes, he had medical school and she had two jobs to keep them both afloat, but they had each other.
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They were just in their twenties. Time was supposed to be theirs. But Time made no such promise.
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It had happened in the blink of an eye. Cora had felt mild stomach pain one day and went to the doctor, only to find nothing wrong. After a handful of over-the-counter medicine and another trip to the doctor, the same results. Another doctor then when the pain in her abdomen spiked so bad, she had fainted in the middle of the office. All of her charts came back clean each and every time.
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(“Cora, my love.” You whisper into her curls each night, finding respite against her skin. The world would pass by for a moment as you sag against her, she alone able to see the cracks in your resolve, she alone willing to carry your weight when life made your arms weary, you perfect atlas, your most beautiful love. )
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Until one day, Cora entered another hospital for yet another check and never came back out.
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(Marius doesn’t sculpt anymore.)
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ACID BATH

 - A term used in heat treating and tempering of steel.
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The coroner’s report matched the doctor’s diagnosis of death via unknown causes perfectly. A court case settled that issue with the hospital quick enough, the malpractice suit garnering sympathies from strangers that prayed to never have his karma.
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Obsession and madness worked in tandem with him as he reviewed the coroner’s report again and again with pursed lips. Unknown causes haunted his dreams and drove him to a change in career paths. Medicine was left behind for forensic pathology and his clever hands, so used to sculpture, began to touch and carve a new kind of material - humans.
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It was within his first year of forensic pathology that something caught his eye as he reviewed similar cases to his wife’s. The same coroner, the same doctor, working together, only this time the original diagnosis had been scratched out and replaced with unknown causes.
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It would be weeks later when, after paying favors and making bargains with compliant hospital staff that he got his hands on one vital piece of information that skewed all of the doctor’s work, one piece that was overlooked in the final few weeks of her life. One lie that saved everyone except his wife.
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Cora had been pregnant.
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The case was taken off the records, the hospital hoping the negotiate before the information leaked to the press. And while Marius clambered for a court case, his lawyers convinced him otherwise. “Take the money, kid.” He pressed. “Trust me. You’ll lose more than you’ll gain if you don’t.”
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But my love he voiced to deaf ears. But my baby, he cried out. But justice!
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Justice didn’t answer, nor did the hospital that settled with him. The money that he gained was spent on a house far from his little apartment where he and Cora had lived. For months, it remained unfurnished, becoming his own personal tomb as he put his life on hold, the life that could have been passing before his eyes in a delirium and his body in a drunken haze that left him motionless most of the time.
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When did the first thought of taking justice into his own hands come to fruition? When did justice become vengeance? That he couldn’t say. But when he emerged from his home, he was a different man than the one that went in. This man restarted his career in forensic pathology with a clearer focus than he ever had.

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This man also had a list of people he was willing to see punished with a cocktail of chemicals.

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He remembered his eldest aunt once tapped his forehead with a gnarled finger, not so different from the root of a tree. “You evaded death. Make sure you don’t cheat it too.” And now he wondered as the coroner choked on his last wet breath if this is paying death forward or paying death back.
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Forward, it would seem, as the Operation took heed of his actions. Apparently his ability to hide the bodies was considered an investment to their cause. Not so well that he eluded their eyes but better than most. After all, they never found the doctor.
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He had much to learn.

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LUSTER

- A brilliant iridescent film on ceramic glazes; formed from metallic salts. 
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The Operation. A word synonymous with loyalty in Marius’ mind. The promise of righteousness against those who were wronged sparked a new hope inside of him. And strangely enough, as he worked his ‘shift’ at the coffee shop, he found himself liking some of the people who were coaxed into the same promises.
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It was only a matter of time when he would be the one coaxing.
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The medical conference was just a front for the Operation, the purpose truly to poach new and bright minds with a scientific background and a vendetta against the government. Preparation was easy, his presentation in what signs to look for in a poisoned body made in his sleep.
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He had no idea that the sweet young man that approached him with bright and eager eyes, so willing to learn from him, would be the catalyst.
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(“Easy, James.” Marius murmurs behind his medical mask as his mentee of two months readjusts the scalpel in his hands. The body on the operating table says nothing, too filled with formaldehyde and - well - death to speak. ”Slow and gentle.”
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James is skilled but so very green. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches the concentration collect between his mentee’s brow. To let him struggle or to aid?
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“Here.” He draws himself behind James, tucking his chin on James’ shoulder, blue gloved hands eclipsing James’. He doesn’t regret the moment he takes to watch the crimson blossom all over James’ exposed skin and his own eyes twinkle with a mirth he thought he’d lost years ago.
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“Slow and gentle.” He whispers against his hair.
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They cut.)
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There was no way to tell that the woman who followed James would be his next firing.
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(His James trusts him with her and she trusts him because of her James. That’s the only way this works.
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Marley, his Marley. He teases and draws out her lioness in a way that starts as a game, but finishes in passion. She’s too beautiful to let go but too wild to touch. She commands armies that don’t exist to fight the ghosts that live in her mind alone.
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Sometimes the ghosts take over and she attacks or she breaks.
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The scalpel strikes across his eye and for a second, he’s too stunned to react. The vision in his right eye draws its curtains in blood that pools through his fingers and onto the floor. Marley’s hand eclipses his eye as she whispers against his hair I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-)
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To say Marius is protective of them is an understatement. They’re his, his light from the dark that clouded his mind. The Operation is his mission and gave him purpose but James and Marley? They filled the void left behind when Cora passed. They were his family.
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And thus, when James ran away from the Operation, Marius held Marley close and coaxed her to sleep with an assured mantra: “He’s coming back, Tiger Lily.” Because of course he was.
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Marius would make sure of it.
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WHITEWARE

- white clay bodies
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A new body is moved from gurney to operating table every few days, pale and sleek. Due to his loyalty to the Operation, he’s allowed to poke and prod and experiment as much as he wants on this one. He takes diligent notes on how their poisons affect the body as well as how to best hide this one and shares his findings with the other members. It’s a comfortable routine.
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Marius’ home, once cold and desolate, is now furnished. Unlike his office, which is stark and white with fluorescent lights that leaves no art or beauty to his work, dark, polished wooden furniture and floors are illuminated by low lighting. Despite the dark aspects, there’s a coziness to it that causes people who visit to sink into his couches and armchairs and within the hour, they’re asleep.
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One room is dedicated to his craft. Nothing is finished. Body parts line the area, an ear by the window, two mismatched hands on the table, the curve of a woman’s hips sitting on a stool. Marley is his primary muse as he reacquaints himself with what used to be second nature. But every once in a while it’s Cora’s face he finds himself molding in his cupped hands, white with unseeing eyes.
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A piano sits in the corner for James, awaiting his return.

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call me
RHAPSODY

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