darcey-tow

[darcey-tow]

so yeah if you ever wondered, exactly, how fucking trippy kellan looks, theres ur answer

[darcey-tow]

@pips-tow replied to your post:anyway ive veen up eighteen hours so its like time...

WOW GNIGHT DROP A BOMB AND LEAVE sleep well ok sweet dreams

[twirls away into the night like the nefarious ballerina i am]

[darcey-tow]

anyway ive veen up eighteen hours so its like time for bed tbh

[darcey-tow]

Still eyes watched him blandly as he was cowed under her grip, glittering animatedly as they had not done in life. She was a long tunnel, with one gaping maw in the living world, a desperate grasp in the light, the rest, scattered. If she lost her grip, she was lost- torn apart by the conflict of life and death, a silent seething battle underlying the world. Death may seem silent, and life may seem passive, but the truth is that the forces are in conflict, always. Death tries to claim that which is living, and living things desperately, wildly, franticly fight it. Beings that got between the foes, whether caught accidentally or snagged, or pushed there by arcane and vulgar magics, were lost, stuck like flies on wax paper. Ghosts were see-through of body and soul, zombies and vampires lived but didn't, died but couldn't. Life was a fox and death was a murder of crows, and Darcey was a scrap of carrion gained not by one or the other. She fouled both mouths and was wanted by neither. The only thing giving her even a semblance of wholeness, preventing her from dissolving into nothing but half-thoughts and scattered emotions and pain and memories was the energy she drained whenever she could get it- a sickly lifeblood, so cold it burnt and hurt.

There might have been an audible crack in the air, or it may have been in her ears alone, when the decisive movement of fingers, a denial. It was a simple motion, but the sheer strength of the conviction behind it made it as effective as an ancient Word of Power against the monster. She took half a step back only, hair bouncing with the heavy footed motion, and she grinned. This was no Stuart, at war with himself, filled with partially formed plans and contradictions. This was a united front, strong like a boar, wild like a bear. It hurt like she'd run full speed into a brick wall. She could have fought back, wrestled for control, given a real show of power- which would undoubtedly be matched, and then their fight would destroy the street, savagely smashing into storefronts and howling up and down the houses, elbows and magic and blood. All this she saw, in her imaginings- and she couldn't guess who might win, but she knew there were only losers among them now. One, forever trapped behind the veil of a coward too horrified to grant him any leash, the other exiled in the glass panes between living and dead, no matter how much you smashed her into the cobbles.

Dreamy blue eyes were suddenly sharp and present, and poor feeble Stuart slept, perhaps all the better for him. Darcey sneered at his other self, the pair of the exchanging vile and violent grins. The berserker, all covered in warpaint and gore, leering at her through blood with the same malice he had the day he had killed her. It was easier than she imagined to overlook that- someday, she would make them both pay, pay for what they did, but for now she was content to yield. Lucas owed her some chat.

She could read his attack in his changing poses as be pulled himself upright and braced, but she still skidded back, stumbling into a crouch but managing not to fall, shoes scraping the cobbles with a sound that put teeth on edge. She lived that sound-nails on a blackboard were the feelings she liked to impart to the world, bitter tasting fruit on the back of the tongue that you couldn't help choke up. She waved her arm and the connection severed, leaving her panting. Beads of sweat gathered on her brow and she grinned- the exertion momentarily beating sensation into the corpse limbs she wore under her façade. "Manners," she said, voice filled with laughter, none of it pleasant, but every bit amused, "Shall we not, my dearest murderer?" Straightening, she pushed hair back and grinned a hollow smile, expression a gaunt caricature of a grin but more sinister than the void it's owner walked with one foot always in. She touched the feathers and feelings of things even more base and broken than herself, most of them ancient, all of them dangerous. Blood, darkness and fury were the overtures of the song accompanying her every moment, playing invisibly in the background of the living world, unseen to all who inhabited it fully. "I thought you might be pleased to see me." She adopted a wounded expression, face moulding to almost comical extremes as her eyebrows puckered and lips dropped at the edges. "Are we not friends?" the words came out in a barely comprehensible hiss, through teeth clenched like castle gates.

broken bones and promises. tag Stu

[darcey-tow]

This one was truly useless. If it wasn't for his other half, the waif of a being would definitely be laying facedown in a ditch somewhere. He was like a little baby bird- so nervous, so fragile, and likely very easy to snap. She watched his jittery movements, twitching from place to place, transfixed like a rabbit in the gaze of a snake. He sensed, likely, that she was all the more dangerous now than she had been then, and well, who could blame him. When a tormentor you put in the ground came crawling back for more- the thought of it made even her feel uncomfortable, and she was made of iron, wilful and cold. Stu was made of smoke in cold air and fleeting inspiration, intangible and always a distraction away from oblivion. It was probably just as well he'd been let go: even now, she noted, slightly impressed, he was holding off the other one, though the cracks were evident, rushing across bone-white skin as the monster tried to claw it's way out of the boy. It seemed as if he was gaining better control over his more murderous side, a pity in Verbena's eyes. He'd never have made a good asset- that had been her assessment, in the final report she had filed on him. Unless they could find a way to scrub out "Stu" entirely, he would likely always be the default mindset. Not that Verbena weren't skilled at erasing people: bodies were stockpiled like medical supplies, waiting to be filled, blank spaces for whatever the scientists might need. It was just more difficult when there were two people occupying the same body. They had tried- she had tried- but it was just shy of impossible.

Clearly, her superiors hadn't liked that very much.

She laughed, a sound that fell flat among the stone buildings. "What, is he going to kill me again? I'm not sure it works like that anymore, you know," she said sourly, giving the experiment an acrid glower. She was fairly sure she would survive an encounter with Lucas this time around, what with her newly received gifts. Science truly was the gift that kept on giving. Giving questionable superpowers to morally dubious individuals. She couldn't deny the lure of wreaking havoc across the human world, but that would almost definitely land her back at verbena faster than you could say "tranquiliser darts and blanket sleep spell guns". She had to wonder if she, like Stu, had been permitted to escape as part of some grander experiment. If she had, she was certainly making their lives easier for them- all their eggs were now in one supernatural basket. And the little egg in front of her looked ready to crack, stammering apologies, pleading with the world to be less horrifying, trying to wish her away. She rolled her eyes. "Would you please shut up," she said, vicious emphasis as she thrust a hand towards him, palm showing, fingers hooked to jerk him backwards. Clenching the hand into a vindictive fist, she pulled towards her and forced him forwards, overbalancing him. She hoped she'd drawn blood with the impact.

"You may as well stop begging the world to be a nice place," she said, eyes glowing with pale fire as she began the now familiar process of leeching energy, an invisible transfer of life force taking place. "I'm here to personally remind you it's not."

broken bones and promises. tag Stu

[darcey-tow]

Taniel: [is on the dash]

Darcey: [cartoon cloud of dust in the rough shape of her bc she has GONE]

[darcey-tow]

It was gratifying to see his alarm, albeit only slightly. Revenge in sort would be over very fast, and very boring. No, she was going to draw this out, as vindictively as she could. The wide-eyed ratty thing  had cost her everything- she was surprised to notice she was having an emotional reaction upon seeing him again unexpectedly- something she wasn’t about to act on, of course, but it took her a little off guard, how furious the site of him made her. Indignant rage boiled off and condensed into vicious spite, and she smiled and spread her hands out, one of them flickering with the idea of a skeletal jazz hand. “Surprise!” she said, amusing herself.

She glanced at his painting and considered ruining it briefly, before turning her attention back to Stu. “Yes, that would be me. I’m glad you recognised me. You know, considering the state I was in when you last saw me. Or was it Mr Hyde? You know how hard I always found it to tell you two apart.” A little barb, a snide reminder of the shared guilt. She didn’t much care which one of them she was dealing with- they were both equally terrible in her eyes.

“So did you miss me? I bet you did. I missed you nearly as much as I miss being alive. I miss that the most though. It’s amazing how much you take being securely tethered to the mortal realm for granted until you don’t have that anymore, you know?”

broken bones and promises. tag Stu

[darcey-tow]

broken bones and promises. tag Stu

Darcey had ended up having to wander up to town- people were too sensible, most of the time, to end up in the woods on the Isle in the first place unless they were very well armed, and there was stiff competition for turf there in any case. After having been chased off by some extremely angry crow-people, she decided to try her luck further up the hill. Of course, that meant sheathing herself in a more human looking form, which was rather more effort than she felt like putting into a meal. People on the Isle were more accepting of different sorts than most other places, but a leering skull and falling apart physique might’ve tipped people off that she wasn’t a healthy individual to be around. She wasn’t exactly starving, but it would help to asses whether or not the big city had as many murderous birds as the woods did.

The town was unbearably twee- the shops all had ridiculous names relating to various supernatural puns. Apothecaries sat out in the open. Spellwork was rampant. It was bound to be increasingly unbearable in the run up to Halloween as well. She wandered through the living freakshow, unwilling to share even a slight deviation from her stern expression of utmost disgust and disapproval. It was like they all took some sort of satanic glee in their status as abominations- absolutely ridiculous.

The sight of a familiar face had Darcey instantly wondering if she was being tested by a higher power. Gods, scientists, demons- someone, somewhere was playing an elaborate practical joke on her. There he was, perched innocently outside some bookshop that was already decorated for Halloween- these people needed to get a grip- painting away. How nice for him. Her expression acidified instantly and she resisted the urge to just slam him into the pavement and walk away. The sliver of comfort was (assuming he wasn’t clued in to the fact that his escape was in all likelihood orchestrated as part of some larger experiment) the fact that Stu- or Lucas, whichever one was sat painting away- wasn’t liable to be expecting her either. She used this to her full advantage, sidling up to him and examining the painting. “It’s nice, but it could probably use a little bit more brutal murder- that’s your style, isn’t it?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

[darcey-tow]

Verbena: The Video Game

[epilepsy warning & disturbing content warning]

[darcey-tow]

I for one welcome our new kitty overlord

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I was just following Lir from here and it made me look at his pop out blog dash thing and

I'm trained as a warrior, but I'm also a student, and you can find me stocking shelves at Paperfields at the moment.

the amount of sheer combative talent that does nothing more than tidy books up at Paperfields is truly phenomenal

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literally every single person dennis has met so far has threatened to eat him. every single one.

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Dennis? have friends? don’t be ridiculous.

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sorchablackwood-tow replied to your post:“YOU CLODS DONT KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOINg” - Dennis,...

I choked on my water, thank u. O Dennidot.

it's funny bc its really dennis who hasn't even a single clue

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“YOU CLODS DONT KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOINg” - Dennis, 2015

[darcey-tow]

Rico: [introduces Murray to Dennis]

ten minutes later: a furious Dennis is licking twinkies and throwing them away just to spite Murray, who is looking on in silent horror

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im passing out here so im gonna sleep goondight