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 shadows & monsters {ToT}, tag: allie and calix
mary reanne doyle
 Posted: Oct 20 2016, 10:43 AM
  quote

MIKE WAZOWSKI!.

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and i tried to hold
these secrets inside me
my mind's like a deadly disease
It was a little bit funny. She studied the Portal, and yet, she wasn't keen on crossing. Not because she was scared of the other world, or the one she now called home. No, she hated the process. It reminded her of being in the scream-extractor; trapped, breathless, lightless. It made her body tingle, and her stomach feel sick. The tugs and pulls always got her in all the wrong ways. And Mary Doyle somehow was stepping out on the other side, hazel eyes squeezed shut. She was no closer to understanding the magic, but it always terrified her to not know where she was being dropped.

But...

She could hear things. The sounds of a city that she dreamed about when she did sleep. Honks and wooshes of cars. The bustling of people. It sounded like New York. But, it couldn't be. She was not standing in Manhattan. No matter what her ears were telling her, what her nose was telling her; she wasn't in New York.

Hazel eyes slowly opened and for a moment, the young woman couldn't breathe. She was standing on a busy intersection as cars shot by, taxis everywhere, she could feel it. This was her home. Her magic buzzed back into life in her veins, stronger than ever. Home? What was this? Had the Darkness been defeated? Had she died and this was her version of Valhalla? Regardless of the reason, she found her feet moving on their own. Forward and forward, onward and onwards, to a place she knew well. It was a house, a home, a stately mansion in the city. It was out of place, but no one batted an eye.

This particular brick manse used to house a boarding school, a place for gifted children who were to be "fixed" or taught to use their abilities. Something that had been long abandoned. Something to do with the adoption of a child that was a student here once. Mary's hand shook as she hovered over the doorknob. She couldn't open it. SHe couldn't do it. How could she do this? This couldn't be real. This wasn't real.

Either way, she was stuck in front of the Doyle Mansion, staring upwards at an impossible situation. Her home was safe.

The Darkness was gone.

+ tagcalix emrys brenhin
+ noteslet the torture begin i can't wait to see what it looks like from his perspective
BY MITZI

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calix emrys brenhin
 Posted: Dec 21 2016, 09:24 PM
  quote

you better stay clever if you wanna survive..

  the raven king
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strange eyes wandering




Calix lay sprawled on the dry, dead grass of what had formerly been somebody's font lawn. The crumbling house had not seen occupants for quite some time by his estimation. The brick and concrete around him provided something of a buffer from all the iron in the city, the alcohol in his blood providing a shield against the rest of suffocating pain that threatened to poison him. Honestly, he ought not to cross the portal after drinking anymore. Three times in as many months was three mistakes too many. Why did he keep doing this? How many times would the portal's timed system slip his mind before he knew when to avoid it? Likely when he stopped stumbling through it after hours of imbibing. True, he had a much higher tolerance for liquor than humans did but he had a limit. The problem was that he so rarely hit that limit that he didn't quite know where it was to begin with. Gone were the days when he knew exactly how much elderberry wine and spiced mead would send him over the edge. The guess work at the real world spirits often left him at varying levels of drunkenness. If he could remember just how much he'd had before crossing the portal, it might have been helpful in avoiding it in the future. Except that he didn't and as he lay there, stomach roiling, he was too tired to think about it anymore.

He had been laying with one arm slung across his face, removing it now allowed the cold night air to feather across his skin. He breathed deeply, nostrils flaring as his chest heaved with the effort. The chill went a little ways to calming the tumult in his gut. Briefly, he thought it might be worth it to allow his body to reject the contents of his stomach. It might not do much to help the fog in his head but movement would at least be bearable. Before he could make a determination, however, the sound of footsteps distracted him. Wearily, he raised his head a fraction to peer down the line of road in front of the rows of broken down, abandoned houses. A small figure in the darkness moved steadily toward him -- toward the house he lay in front of, actually, as he watched it stop and then move towards it. With more effort than it ought to have taken, he sat up as silver-gold eyes continued to watch the figure as the darkness dissolved enough to show that it was, in fact, a tiny woman and not a ghost or a specter that haunted this property.

He tilted his head as she came to a stop in front of an opening in the dilapidated building where it was clear a door had once been. Instead of a door, however, a large jagged piece of glass and metal jutted outwards. Without realizing it, he rose to his feet as he watched in trepidation as her hand lifted and hovered right around that piece of glass. Surely she wasn't going touch it? Even from this distance, he could see the deadly sharpness that would shred the soft flesh of a palm without much resistance. Propelled by something he couldn't name, Calix moved. In less time than it would have taken even a sober human to cross the expanse of lawn, he was mere feet away from where she stood. His presence didn't seem to reach her however, as he saw her eyes drift upwards, her hand still hovering dangerously close to the glass. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said in a voice that was far too cheery to be entirely uninfluenced by drink. Instinctively, he reached out and wrapped long, tapered fingers around her wrist and moved it a safe distance away, alcohol making his movements jerky. He could sense a power about her that, had he been sober, would have made him wary.

Instead, he simply acknowledged it as he got a good look at her face. There was a slightly dazed light in her eyes even as she appeared almost distraught looking at the run down house. Brows drawing together in confusion, he waved a hand in front of her face. "Are you in there, whoever you are?"

mary reanne doyle

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mary reanne doyle
 Posted: May 9 2017, 03:17 PM
  quote

MIKE WAZOWSKI!.

  boo
  Monsters, Inc
  25 years old
  SINGLE
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  sammi ()
 136 POSTS

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and i tried to hold
these secrets inside me
my mind's like a deadly disease
Her heart was thrumming in her chest, loud and all encompassing. For a moment, that's all she could hear ---- the steady tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump ---- and the unspoken promise that perhaps they were in there. Frank and Sadie Doyle, toast of the Upper Crust, could actually be in there. Her parents were so close. Could be so close. It was all she ever wanted. ( Wasn't it? There was something in the back of her head trying to tell her something else. Something important. But, she couldn't remember. ) Deep breath and----

Someone was talking. It was jumbled and muddled in her mind, like she couldn't get the words right. They swirled and shifted and wouldn't settle. She was far too concentrated on the doorknob in front of her. Her fingers twitched and she wanted so badly to just turn it and walk in. Maybe she would run into Kevin the Liquor Delivery Boy, or Donna would be by with Michelle, or perhaps! Perhaps...

Something grabbed her arm and jerked Mary's hand away with more force than was probably necessary. The figure beside of her came into focus slowly, gradually, as if her mind was struggling to piece together the image from cues from somewhere else. Like a slow loading image on a computer. Pixel by pixel. Eventually, she could see the person and she frowned at him.

"Yes, I am in here. What are you doing here? And why'd you stop me?" Her voice came out not even close to as sharp as she wanted. She pulled away, closer to the house. She was so close! So close to what she wanted, why was this stranger stopping her? Another step backwards, and fingertips buzzed with magic that came too quickly to her command. She wasn't this quick to anger, but whatever part of her mind thought that was quickly silenced.

"Who are you?"

+ tagcalix emrys brenhin
+ notesHAPPY BIRTHDAY 8DDDD
BY MITZI

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calix emrys brenhin
 Posted: Jun 5 2017, 11:43 PM
  quote

you better stay clever if you wanna survive..

  the raven king
  the court of night
  too many years old
  #SOLO
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 168 POSTS

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strange eyes wandering




Understanding dawned on him as the woman finally noticed him, her eyes slowly focusing on him as if she hadn't seen him there before. He blamed it on the liquor; had he not been mildly intoxicated, he would have noticed immediately that she was under the influence of some sort of glamour. Belatedly, he released her wrist as he glanced behind him at the crumbling structure and then back to her face, brows furrowing as he tried to figure out exactly what it was that had elicited such a response. Mostly, he wondered if he ought to be worried by whatever had lured her here. For all of his faults, Calix had no thoughts at the present moment about manipulating this situation. For one, he was too schnockered (a human word that he found he quite liked when he was in his cups) to really invest himself in anything other than moping until the portal opened up again. If push came to shove, Cal wouldn't hesitate to let her proceed with whatever stupidly dangerous thing that power that had a hold on her wished her to do.

Perhaps he ought to have let her to begin with rather than risk himself getting involved. All of the iron that veined beneath the city, like blood vessels in muscle, rendered him next to powerless. Beyond the natural heightened physical abilities that came along with being fae, he was entirely on his own. Which is likely why his first response to the power that snapped to her fingers gave him pause. He made no move to retreat, too proud to give even a little ground even as the woman backed away, he simple raised a brow in her direction. Mildly offended, he crossed his arms across his chest. "So many questions," he drawled with a smirk. "So much suspicion...and from such a small, scrappy thing too." Cal looked down at her pointedly before shaking his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. His head tilted as he studied her, his eyes a swirl of silver and gold as he debated about giving her any answers at all.

"I suppose in your state it hardly matters that you were about to walk into almost certain death or, at the very least, dismemberment," Cal didn't bother polishing the snark in his voice with his customary grace, instead rolling his eyes. With a sigh, he finally gave up, both too tired and too befuddled for any of his usual games. He gave a flourish of his arm as he stepped out of her path, waving her onwards. "If that's what you want, by all means, proceed." He didn't wait to see if she continued on her way despite his warnings, turning instead to march right back to where he'd been before, a loud harrumph escaping as he did so. This is what he got for intervening on someone's behalf? This is what he received for trying to help? Attitude and unwarranted suspicion. And people wondered why he maintained that selfishness was closer to true happiness.

mary reanne doyle // he's a grumpy birb oops

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mary reanne doyle
 Posted: Oct 18 2017, 02:30 AM
  quote

MIKE WAZOWSKI!.

  boo
  Monsters, Inc
  25 years old
  SINGLE
  PANSEXUAL
 
  sammi ()
 136 POSTS

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and i tried to hold
these secrets inside me
my mind's like a deadly disease
Something wasn't right. Something deep, something primal. It was wrong. Concentrate, button. Just concentrate and you can find that thread of wrongness and pull it, and watch the illusion unravel. But, what was the illusion? Was it the mansion in front of her, the one she knew so well, or was it the boy who decided to be a jerk? (Wasn't she the jerk first? Which one was the aggressor here, duckling?) Which one. Which one. Which one?! She didn't know. Mary didn't know and it caused such a surge of anxiety that for a moment, it outweighed the unusual rage that curled in her chest.

"You don't want to know what such a small, scrappy thing like me can do," she snapped, and then immediately winced at her sharp tone. What was she doing? For a moment, there was a shimmer and things seemed to darken but there it was again. The house. The mansion. Her home. She felt like screaming. Just putting her hands over her ears and screaming to alleviate the pounding in her mind. Which real was real? His real or her real? Which unreal was real? Which real was unreal? She had to know. She had, had, absolutely had, to know.

"W-Wait!" She summoned up what little courage she had left and turned towards his retreating back. And that's when she noticed that he was fuzzy. Fuzzy around the edges, like he wasn't really there... or that he didn't belong there. Or... or did the there not belong to him? Which was it? She had to know. She needed to know. And then there was the rest of his words that flickered around her mind like a haunting melody. Death. Dismemberment. Not here. Not in this house. "What do you see?" She eventually pushed out.

Her eyes closed and she tried to push away the anxiety and the fear that tried to choke her. "I'm sorry for snapping. You were trying to help, so help me again, what do you see? Because I think there's something wrong here. Only... Only I don't know what, and I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong. But, but I know you're real. So, please, tell me ---- what's real?" The words came in her natural waterfall nature and it actually lifted some of the anxiety away. Deep breath. Deep, deep breath.

"I'll start. I see a house. Perfectly in tact like it used to be. A door waiting to be opened. No decay." She turned her eyes towards him again and held up her hands a little bit. "What do you see? I... I need to know which real is real."

+ tagcalix emrys brenhin
+ notesahahahahhaaha she's tryin so hard bless
BY MITZI

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calix emrys brenhin
 Posted: Oct 19 2017, 12:24 AM
  quote

you better stay clever if you wanna survive..

  the raven king
  the court of night
  too many years old
  #SOLO
  alotsexual
 
  allie ()
 168 POSTS

awards



















strange eyes wandering




Grumbling, and in need of more of the liquor that had put him in this state to begin with, Calix was more than ready to wash his hands of the whole situation. If the bratty little woman didn't want his help, didn't want to listen, then that was just fine. It was exactly what he deserved, really, for getting involved where it was his business not at all. He'd learned a long time ago that meddling in other people's affairs led to nothing good for him. He was far better off focusing on his own which were far more pertinent to both his wellbeing and his own happiness. Well, perhaps 'happiness' was stretching the truth a bit too far. The fae lord couldn't recall a time where the word had ever truly been applicable in the broadest sense of the word. There were moments, fleeting memories of times gone by, where it might possibly have been true, if only for a time, but the grand sum of his life could not be described as such. Nowhere near it, in fact. Long before he had ever become the lord of the Night Court, his feet had been set on a path where such an emotion was impossible to foster. Choices had been made for him and he had done exactly as they had expected him to, always.

Oh, he'd taken his pleasure where had wanted, had done as he wished to within the role prescribed to him, but happiness? That had never been apart of the equation. Never something granted. Those brief moments had all been stolen by him, taken betwixt rebellion and duty and, ultimately, grief. No one had ever bothered concerning themselves so why should he bother with theirs? Except...he had, hadn't he? He had no intention of ever returning to court until the reality of his father's death had set in. Even then, he was of half a mind to lose the rite to his brother and let that be the end of it. There had been nothing in his life to make it worthwhile continuing the masquerade as the high lord's chosen. The favorite son. He'd never been deserving of it anyway. Except when the moment had come to follow through he'd realized how much he had wanted to be deserving of it. Or, rather, how much he had wanted to make sure the mountain continued to stand. Every action, every decision, since then had been with the court's survival in mind. He'd sacrificed so much to ensure the Night Court continued, not the least of which was his own happiness. Even the ability to look his reflection in the eye most days. For what? A mountain and a legion of blood thirsty fae who'd as soon turn on him the moment he bared his neck.

Yet, he'd lost that in the end, too.

Perhaps his conscience, and his bitterness that it even existed (the proof of which was evidenced in the details of his history), was why his steps slowed when the scrappy little stray called out to him. "Am I?" He retorted without turning, though he didn't move further away. "I am certain there are those who would prefer I wasn't." That much was true but he wasn't about the explain his meaning. Calix was definitely certain he needed more alcohol to get through the remaining hours before the portal reopened and he could cross back over. As it was, his options were limited and neither included imbibing. He could either continue to stew in his own misery (a rather tempting route, in all honesty) or play along with the young woman's obviously insane ravings. At least the latter might proving to be distracting, he thought as he found himself trudging slowly back towards her. Cal crossed his arms over his chest as he came to a stop beside her, sighing heavily through his nose.

"Alright, I'll play along," he said, his voice full of piss and vinegar. A disdainful smirk playing on his lips as he looked down his nose at the small woman. "I see a lunatic about to prance into a collapsed building but won't make it very far because she'll impale herself on a sharp metal shard she likely thinks is the way in. And then me, who'll watch her die with glee because I fucking told her so."

mary reanne doyle // welp. he's in a mood now, mary.


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mary reanne doyle
 Posted: May 10 2018, 08:29 PM
  quote

MIKE WAZOWSKI!.

  boo
  Monsters, Inc
  25 years old
  SINGLE
  PANSEXUAL
 
  sammi ()
 136 POSTS

awards








and i tried to hold
these secrets inside me
my mind's like a deadly disease
She waited. She waited for what felt like hours upon hours and hours for him to decide what to do. Perhaps it was a minute, perhaps only seconds, but it felt like an eternity to the young witch. She wanted to fix this. Her fingers tapped against her thigh anxiously, flickering her gaze between the slightly out of focus person to the bright and beautiful house. Why wasn't her mind allowing her to solve this alone? She was good at this. Problem solving. Even when she had the wrong answer in front of her, it was just a stepping stone to the right one.

And she was terrified. Gods, she was terrified, and angry all at once. Only one of those emotions felt foreign to her. She was unaccostumed to being angry. Truly angry. This angry. She was eager, friendly, curious. Afraid. Afraid was something she could be. Something she was almost constantly being. Fight through it. Use it. Weild it. Her father taught her well. Let it be a motivator, not a hindrance. And yet.... she was so terrified. Not that she was wrong, but that someone had tampered with her mind. Someone had gone into her sanctuary and messed with it, and now she was going to forever see an illusion.

"Everyone has their enemies," she replied softly, happy that she finally sounded like herself again. "That doesn't mean you're any less real. You're real because unreal things can't touch real things." Perhaps she was the unreal here. She was walking a tightrope that led to either insanity or understanding, and the wind was blowing hard. But, this was what she did. She walked this every single day. She endeavored, perservered.

He finally reached her again, and she could see the expression of superiority and disdain in silver-gold eyes. (How unusual. She would have to make a note of that.) "I said I was sorry for being rude, you know," she retorted, an eyebrow raised at his last statement. "So... you see rubble and danger. Curious." Her head tilted at the building, and she raised a hand, pushing it forward again. Only this time, it was slowly covered in a soft pink glow as she probed the two realities trying to find the truth.

And, nothing. She felt nothing. Which was more concerning, honestly. "Huh," she breathed, retracting her hand, the glow fading. "I'm not crazy, by the way." It was an afterthought, said in a dream like voice. A defense that came naturally to her. "I think I'm glamoured, by what, I'm not certain. It doesn't react to magic, which makes it curious. And why me?"

She took a step backwards. "I see my home. Not that you care, but... if you saw your home, the place you feel safest, wouldn't you try to return? That's what I see, and something wants me to very badly go in there. Which is why it made me react so... rudely to you. My father is the rude one, not me." Not true, your biological parents were the actual worst. Not the point. She made a point to try to be kind, to be understanding, and to not fly off the handle over nothing.

Her gaze found his face again, noting the blur around the edges once more. "Have you heard of anything like it?" She didn't expect an answer after she had been so ugly to him, but... she wouldn't know if she didn't ask, right?

+ tagcalix emrys brenhin
+ notesbum bum bum shE FEELS BAD CALIX OK SHE'S SORRY
BY MITZI

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