So sick in her body So sick in her soul

Guns are lighter without bullets. Humans are lighter without brains. Here's to lightening the load. Mary Walker-An Indie RP blog

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untolikeiron‌ :

“I know.” He said, but the tone and accompanying smile were gentle.  It was okay to zone out. 

“Did you need me for something? Is everything okay?”

“I-I..” Mary stammered, as if she were trying to get her bearings back. She probably was.

“I t-think I might have just needed some company. It gets kind of quiet and lonely sometime and friends aren’t really a thing and I don’t think she likes me very...I should stop rambling.”

[bxtcherbxby]

       𝔤𝔲𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔟𝔲𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔰. 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰.

                          𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢'𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔡.

An independant Mary Walker/Typhoid Mary blog. Plays both 616 and MCU canons.

TRIGGER WARNINGS ABOUND!

[independentmasterlist]

Reblog if you’re a marvel roleplayer

And you will be added to the list.

[bxtcherbxby]

untolikeiron‌ :

STARTER || @bxtcherbxby

“… Mary?

“Were you looking for me?”  

“Oh...sorry. Yeah, I kinda zoned out for a moment. I do that sometimes.”

Yes, Mary, he knows that.

[bxtcherbxby]

@untolikeiron

It was!

[bxtcherbxby]

Now I know I kinda rushed through IF (as if starting at midnight-ish and ending at around six or seven wasn’t sign enough) cause it took a gif set in muse’s tag to know they referenced one of my fav Typhoid moments from the book

[bxtcherbxby]

me realizing i’m gonna have to study the fuck out of this show to get it down

[untolikeiron]

                            My arsenal of kung fu is rich and DEEP…

                                                                     … I pray to God it will be ENOUGH.

                           || indie selective 616 & mcu iron fist rebooted 9.15.18 ||

[bxtcherbxby]

       𝔤𝔲𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔟𝔲𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔰. 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰.

                          𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢'𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔡.

An independant Mary Walker/Typhoid Mary blog. Plays both 616 and MCU canons.

TRIGGER WARNINGS ABOUND!

[bxtcherbxby]

MCU verse coming soon! In the process of making icons, figuring out verse and fc tags and the like

[bxtcherbxby]

for the sake of gauging interest, and until a proper promo can be finished, please like or reblog if you’re interested in following or roleplaying a primarily 616 Typhoid Mary from the Daredevil comics MCU verse pending

[bxtcherbxby]

for the sake of gauging interest, and until a proper promo can be finished, please like or reblog if you’re interested in following or roleplaying a primarily 616 Typhoid Mary from the Daredevil comics MCU verse pending

[bxtcherbxby]

.

[bxtcherbxby]

starter call

[bxtcherbxby]

            ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠˡⁱᵉˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ

    ⁿᵒ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉˢᶜᵘᵉ

Hope. Such a foolish endeavor. What use is there for it? Why does one hope for anything anymore? An escape? A savior? Live? Love? A means to an end.

Well, there’s a few means to an nd. And one of these days, Mary Walker would find the worst of them. Of course she would. There was no happy endings for Mary Walker. No escapes. No hope.

Tonight, someone else was out to play. The walking, breathing, fucking personification of poison, death and destruction: Typhoid Mary. She tried to keep her in check, really she did! Of course she failed. Was she really going to succeed? Not with what she’d tried to do to her wrists she wasn’t.

Blood dripped down the killer’s fingers, onto the hilt of her blades, onto the brutal concrete of the city. What Mary used to call home. She wasn’t trying to hide. She just scraped the tips right on along the pavement, looking to call attention to herself. Didn’t matter who. Anyone would do. Sure, she had preferences, but at the end of the day, she just wanted a victim. Someone to hurt. Something to break. Someone to kill.

The wolf was a’roaming and itching to devour some sheep.

Typhoid came to a sudden stop, cracking her neck before turning attention to her left. Ain’t that convenient? A trio of Mafia goons. A shame that Castle didn’t get to them first. One would consider them lucky. They’d reconsider that notion very shortly.

A gleeful, psychotic grin. More blood dripping. Mary really did a number on herself, didn’t she? It’s okay. She’d used to the abuse.

Typhoid began to balance a blade on the tip of her boots, nice and careful like, popping it upward with a light tap and kicking it towards one of them blade first. The other two would barely be given a chance to respond before the steel sliced through the head of another. Right at the mouth. Fucking hurts, doesn’t it? He lived just long enough to realize that his jaw was barely hanging in there. Typhoid pulled a knife out of her belt, ramming it upward into his neck with force to finish him off and seamlessly pivoted on her heel, the other blade now unsheathed, cutting through tendon, the heel of the third. She tossed the knife to the ground and pulled the first blade out, slashing against the pavement and half through the poor schmuck’s thigh. Let him scream. Cry. Beg. Nobody, no god was going to save him. She was only getting started with him.

Twenty minutes later, the killer was whistling loudly to herself, skipping away from the scene and once more slinking into the back alleys, blood soaked blades resting against each slender shoulder, wrists haphazardly wrapped in the cut up remains of someone’s dress shirt. She was very satisfied with herself.

But she wanted more.

[bxtcherbxby]

where’s your god now?

[pyrophantom]

There’s A Good Reason There’s Blood On My Hands