demonofvoidandnightmares

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Send a 'ʘ‿ʘ' if your muse finds my muse attractive.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

A more complete info sheet

Name: Mary Eliza Faekay Age: 21-25 Star sign: scorpio Dob: 11/7

Skin: white Hair: chestnut brown Eyes: blue

Height: 5’7

Relationship status: single Sexuality: pansexual Romantic preference: Panromantic/Polyamourus General skills: Rave dancing, gardening/farming, cooking, baking, seamstress, history, folklore, guns

Likes: Music, history, folklore, horror, mystery, her family, making clothing and dolls, cooking, growing plants, exploring, dancing, tea

Dislikes: right wing idiots, her ex, her hometown, homophobes, racists, general bigotry, mushrooms Distinguishing marks: scar on the back of her left calf from a bullhorn, slight limp due to it

Alignment: chaotic good

Species: human

Occupations: superhero (all universes) receptionist at the sanguine auction house (under Jason Blood) /data entry for Wayne tech(universe dependent)

Conditions: slight limp due to a scar on her calf, anxiety, ptsd (sexual trauma) (maybe autism still deciding)

Superhero stats: Black Fur Demonic nature Feline features Tail

Claws

Fangs

Powers: Void walking, shadow claws, flight, miasma breath (fear gas) magical ability, weapon creation (scythe), sleep induction, necromantic communication, healing, dream reading, illusions, astral projection, power detection, truth detection, drag demons to either hell or the void, immortality, minion creation, energy blasts, ‘madness blasts’(cause dizziness)

Origin of powers: artifact kept in small local museum, skin contact/considered worthy: unworthy were either ignored or met a sticky end

Weakness: using power drains energy, food restores it but if fully drained, shifts back and ends up in a two hour state of torpor, will wake up and have a 30 min window to get food.  Proper cure is a full meal and 8 hours of sleep

Locations: Faekay Farm, farmersville; Gotham City: Bauyun tree, void

Species: Void demon or voidling

Family:

 Mother - Linda Father - John Grandmother - lily Twin Brother - Randy

Location information; Bauyun tree:  A small island in the void with both a grand oak tree and an iron pillar embedded within the tree.  Around the pillar is a golden chain and markings that hold the entire history of the voidling race from beginning to end along with how their abilities and powers work. Mary’s history: Born in Farmerville with her brother Randy: time not properly recorded, unknown who the older twin is Goes to school; known to be chaotic, rambunctious and curious but gets extremely high marks, honor roll student Dialbo incident: gained a breeding bull that did not want to be touched, tried to gore randy; Mary pushed him out of the way and ended up taking the blow in her leg Dated Shane for one year in highschool, Shane logan paul was the mayor’s son and an up and coming influencer; abused Mary through their relationship (also has a 5 to 7 year age gap, relationship starting when mary was a minor, about 16-17 grooming involved) ended with a rape attempted and Mary breaking up with him.  He turns the whole town against her forcing her to try and leave

Long depressive streak, about a year; gaining a therapist and medication for anxiety

Went to college, majored in history, graduated with a BA Worked in a museum run by a local historian, he dropped an artifact and Mary caught it before it shattered, fired for ruining it; curator wanted the power in it for himself, Mary got it instead

Worked on her powers for five years before finally saving up and getting a job in Gotham city

Protecting Gotham and still discovering her abilities Tools: bag of holding full of snacks (sneaky portal to a pocket part of the void she keeps random things in) scythe, gold chain from the iron pillar (Can tie the void to the normal world creating  two way doorway)

Goals: Get a doctorate in history Find someone to teach her about her powers

Create a comfortable life

Prove she is over her ex

Make the world safer for everyone supernatural or not

Reason for the extinction of the void demons:

Belial is the reason the voidlings are gone; a mix of reasons that their seers saw coming and created an artifact that would harvest their powers when they died; and would be sent to earth to help recreate the race from a ‘mother’ or ‘father’ voidling.  Their knowledge and history had long been stored on a tree protected by their storyteller and bard Cat Bauyun.  They chose human as the preferred host as an insult to Belial noting his son Merlin.  

The reasons of Belial destroying them were multifaceted Envy over their power to traverse the void with no issue Their power to drag things to either the void or hell; making them masters at collecting souls

One of their nobles refused to become one of his courtesans; even daring to be insulted at the offer

Desire for the small amount of land in hell they ruled over for eons

A want for the Bauyun tree Due to this, the hellfires; the people under Belail; waged a war over the voidlings, only one seemed to go against them; Etrigan, the prodigal son; the only being said to be able to destroy his own father.  Belial was able to convince the other lords of hell, including the triumvernt; that the voidlings were dangerous creatures and their land would better serve other demons.  Their independent nature did not help disprove his lies The correct host would not only be mentally sound enough to tolerate the more fear based abilities of the powers, but be a human that understood the value of spite, had a creative spirit and refused to follow rules unless given a good reason.  Rebellious and following their own path.  Voidlings obey no lord or king unless they prove themselves worthy and only one has, though he seems to have long become a hermit….

Voidlings seem to lean to a feline bend; perhaps this is why so many of their greatest folk were called cats.  Another example of this are the psychopomps known as the cat sith, who took souls to hell with great ease.  Though not true cait sith, they treated the fae like kin The lands they held were like their own little nation in the middle of the chaotic afterlife.  They did not wish for war, just to steal souls, create art and live; but the chaos around them doomed them…

Farmerville politics: The town is run by Abraham Jedahia Logan Paul; both the richest man in town with the most land and the mayor who assures everyone he was ‘fairly elected’.  He is Married to his wife Sarah Eve Logan Paul and has one child, Shane Chistopher Logan Paul.  He seems to have endless money and pays for his ‘heir apparent’ Shane’s lifestyle and whims.  He is considered by most of the remaining population a god fearing leader; however this is only because the population that did not agree with him either left in disgust, or were driven and bought out.  Everyone both on the town council or in other positions of power, like police chief; are in his pocket, making going against him very hard.  The only remaining family against him are the Faekays, and there was hope of a turn around if Mary stayed with Shane long enough, but that didn’t happen; so the whole family faced the wrath of the town.  Thankfully both children left before things could get bad; and the three guardians are more than able to handle the rest of the town. The Faekay farm is a hybrid dairy, free range egg, wool and crop farm; and rather popular outside of town with both the more crunchy crowd and families just trying to get by.  

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Please reblog if you are okay with random starters, pre-established relationships and responses to ask memes. I need some new people to bug with starters & what nots. 

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Send '❤️❔' if you'd be interested in discussing a potential ship between our muses!

-send '<3?' if the emojis don't show!

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

"Glad I still got it, you should see my sailor moon outfit!"

@demonofvoidandnightmares it's a handmade doll of creeper, a little cat's eye on his foot

*looks at the doll,grins* So damn cute! *hugs it* I'm keeping you on a shelf.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

"Glad you like it, I've been meaning to get back into making stuff, costumes, clothing, dolls ya know"

@demonofvoidandnightmares it's a handmade doll of creeper, a little cat's eye on his foot

*looks at the doll,grins* So damn cute! *hugs it* I'm keeping you on a shelf.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

The person I reblogged this from is awesome as fuck.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

send 👀 + a dirty thought and/or fantasy your muse has had about mine. let's see how my muse responds.

your muse = sender, my muse = receiver.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

reblog to tell your mutuals they’re lovely as fuck

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

*blushes * no problem!

(Demonofvoidandnightmares) *a very simple but beautiful cake in a nice box is given to creeper its his favorite flavor * happy birthday creeper!

*takes it happily* It's fantastic! *kisses her cheek* You're the best, buddy!

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Gets out the camera "I'm so gonna enjoy this!"

give the world sex luthor

I'm sure Superman would appreciate it

...Give me ten minutes.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Things that don’t matter to me about another roleplayer:

If you use icons; some people just can’t, or don’t like it.

If you have to reply on the mobile app; I can trim our posts for us so we don’t piss people off.

If you need time to reply; Just let me know so I don’t think the thread is dropped. Everyone takes different amounts of time to do things. Never feel bad if your muse just isn’t working with you.

If you need to drop a thread; as long as you tell me I wont be mad. Sometimes we all just have too much going on, or get bored. We can always plot somethign else.

If you don’t ship our muses; Some people just don’t work together, and maybe they should just be friends. Friends aren’t a second place trophy, and I wont treat them like they are.

If your text is fancy; concentrate on the words you use, not the aesthetics. Wont matter to me if you took an extra how ever long making the words little, if I’m only getting two words back anyways.

If your replies match mine in length; Sometimes you can’t find enough words, and you shouldn’t feel bad. As long as you tired your best.

You know what I do care about? That you think of it more like fun, than work. If it’s just work interacting with my muse, then tell me, because something needs to change.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Muses are fickle. Reblog if you understand that your partner’s muse can sometimes wonder off for a while, but that you will still be willing to write with them when they come back.

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Mary nods and gets up "call me if you need anything Jason" her voice again soft and worried

She'd leave the cake and a note as she followed Zee 'feel better soon Jason'

Bad Days

@demonofvoidandnightmares

There’s always a little more to do. Even in the lulls between the urgent and the dangerous, there is always a little more to do. Some days though, he can’t find anything worth a damn to focus on.

There’s always a little more to do. Today, there is nothing that holds him in the present, nothing that distracts like it might have even thirty years ago. Forty. A century.

Jason Blood frowns at his bookcases through the haze of incense and rubs idly at his temple. The nearly suffocating smoke isn’t helping anything, but it isn’t making things worse either. The scotch in the glass at his side isn’t helping much more than the first two had. He should put the decanter away but that would require getting up.

The whole room is overwhelmed with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. Really, the whole house reeks of it. Easily covering up the smell of scotch and something else bitter and metallic that Jason isn’t certain is even in the air. Maybe it’s just in his head. He’d lit more incense to cover it anyway, to distract himself. From that phantom scent he didn’t want to deal with. From the things that could be done but didn’t need to be.

Jason sits on the floor in his study and turn the glass in his hands. Watching the shadows play through clear amber and ignores the knock at the door. Once, twice, a psychic whisper, thrice. Just leave me alone, he thinks as the pattern starts up again.

Zatanna stands outside Jason Blood’s brownstone and thinks hard at the man she’s sure is inside. She can smell the incense curling around the doors like a protective veil, and that doesn’t always mean something. Today though, when he wouldn’t pick up his phone, and she couldn’t contact him any other way…

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

Mary nodded, worry on her face "ok...I can clean up while you go rest...." she offered "before going home I mean...if you want me to leave"

Bad Days

@demonofvoidandnightmares

There’s always a little more to do. Even in the lulls between the urgent and the dangerous, there is always a little more to do. Some days though, he can’t find anything worth a damn to focus on.

There’s always a little more to do. Today, there is nothing that holds him in the present, nothing that distracts like it might have even thirty years ago. Forty. A century.

Jason Blood frowns at his bookcases through the haze of incense and rubs idly at his temple. The nearly suffocating smoke isn’t helping anything, but it isn’t making things worse either. The scotch in the glass at his side isn’t helping much more than the first two had. He should put the decanter away but that would require getting up.

The whole room is overwhelmed with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. Really, the whole house reeks of it. Easily covering up the smell of scotch and something else bitter and metallic that Jason isn’t certain is even in the air. Maybe it’s just in his head. He’d lit more incense to cover it anyway, to distract himself. From that phantom scent he didn’t want to deal with. From the things that could be done but didn’t need to be.

Jason sits on the floor in his study and turn the glass in his hands. Watching the shadows play through clear amber and ignores the knock at the door. Once, twice, a psychic whisper, thrice. Just leave me alone, he thinks as the pattern starts up again.

Zatanna stands outside Jason Blood’s brownstone and thinks hard at the man she’s sure is inside. She can smell the incense curling around the doors like a protective veil, and that doesn’t always mean something. Today though, when he wouldn’t pick up his phone, and she couldn’t contact him any other way…

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

"If I had my grandmother's skill I could look at it" Mary nodded but she felt Jason's mood and was still soft in her voice "I should plant some tea roses, maybe I'll get some good rose hip tea out of it

Bad Days

@demonofvoidandnightmares

There’s always a little more to do. Even in the lulls between the urgent and the dangerous, there is always a little more to do. Some days though, he can’t find anything worth a damn to focus on.

There’s always a little more to do. Today, there is nothing that holds him in the present, nothing that distracts like it might have even thirty years ago. Forty. A century.

Jason Blood frowns at his bookcases through the haze of incense and rubs idly at his temple. The nearly suffocating smoke isn’t helping anything, but it isn’t making things worse either. The scotch in the glass at his side isn’t helping much more than the first two had. He should put the decanter away but that would require getting up.

The whole room is overwhelmed with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. Really, the whole house reeks of it. Easily covering up the smell of scotch and something else bitter and metallic that Jason isn’t certain is even in the air. Maybe it’s just in his head. He’d lit more incense to cover it anyway, to distract himself. From that phantom scent he didn’t want to deal with. From the things that could be done but didn’t need to be.

Jason sits on the floor in his study and turn the glass in his hands. Watching the shadows play through clear amber and ignores the knock at the door. Once, twice, a psychic whisper, thrice. Just leave me alone, he thinks as the pattern starts up again.

Zatanna stands outside Jason Blood’s brownstone and thinks hard at the man she’s sure is inside. She can smell the incense curling around the doors like a protective veil, and that doesn’t always mean something. Today though, when he wouldn’t pick up his phone, and she couldn’t contact him any other way…

[demonofvoidandnightmares]

"Polyester isn't the worst for me, I used to cosplay so I couldn't be picky if i wanted to properly make the costume...but natural is usually best" Mary admitted "Oh English roses, it's a cutting from home"

Bad Days

@demonofvoidandnightmares

There’s always a little more to do. Even in the lulls between the urgent and the dangerous, there is always a little more to do. Some days though, he can’t find anything worth a damn to focus on.

There’s always a little more to do. Today, there is nothing that holds him in the present, nothing that distracts like it might have even thirty years ago. Forty. A century.

Jason Blood frowns at his bookcases through the haze of incense and rubs idly at his temple. The nearly suffocating smoke isn’t helping anything, but it isn’t making things worse either. The scotch in the glass at his side isn’t helping much more than the first two had. He should put the decanter away but that would require getting up.

The whole room is overwhelmed with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. Really, the whole house reeks of it. Easily covering up the smell of scotch and something else bitter and metallic that Jason isn’t certain is even in the air. Maybe it’s just in his head. He’d lit more incense to cover it anyway, to distract himself. From that phantom scent he didn’t want to deal with. From the things that could be done but didn’t need to be.

Jason sits on the floor in his study and turn the glass in his hands. Watching the shadows play through clear amber and ignores the knock at the door. Once, twice, a psychic whisper, thrice. Just leave me alone, he thinks as the pattern starts up again.

Zatanna stands outside Jason Blood’s brownstone and thinks hard at the man she’s sure is inside. She can smell the incense curling around the doors like a protective veil, and that doesn’t always mean something. Today though, when he wouldn’t pick up his phone, and she couldn’t contact him any other way…