The best little magician in candyland

MasonFaim|Magician|SandmanSlim Canon|Indie|Private|Selective|18+|

[bullshituberalles]

infaimous​ :

“I’m not desperate at all so you don’t have to be jealous. Cherry’s the one who’s desperate, since you mentioned it. I really don’t have time for any of that shit. So, if did take time out for a little romance or sex, it would have to be with someone very special and dear to me.” He says all that with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but deep down he perhaps longs for a romantic companion to share his life with. None of the people mentioned even being in the running, either. And Stark would no doubt continue to mock him if he could delve into that dark, twisted mind…

  “Well, I’m not jealous at all, so you don’t have to worry.  You’re not wrong about Cherry, though.  Speaking of which, did you give her my number?”

  He narrows his eyes skeptically, purses his mouth.  “So, that top-secret shit you’re working on in your top-secret hermetically-sealed basement, is it a cloning spell? ‘cause I can’t imagine who else you’d consider very special and dear.”  Obviously, no delving is required for Stark to continue to mock him.

[infaimous]

Though he knows he left that wide open, Mason chooses to show exactly how offended and annoyed he is by the comment. “I didn’t give Cherry your number, but now I wish I had...Maybe. Also, for the record, what you described would technically be masturbation.” He does, however crack a smile smile as he adds, “It does kinda bring a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘go fuck yourself’, though.” Then another thought occurs to him. “Do you think my clone would be able to do magic?”

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles​:

infaimous​:

ᴘɪстυʀϵѕ οғ ᴀ ᴅɪғғϵʀϵɴт мϵ

bullshituberalles‌:

infaimous‌:

  Only looking at the book, Stark can tell it’s got that tiny, squashed-together typeface that will give him a headache after two pages. While he complains about reading, he’s happy to let Mason think it’s laziness rather than openly admit how difficult he finds it.

  “What?“   Distracted from glaring at the book, he wrinkles his nose, shakes his head.  “Fuck that! I’ve gotta live with the guy, I don’t need to know what he thinks about when he’s jerking off.” - like the Limey’s posters of half-naked dudes in new wave bands don’t give that away already.   "I can find some unsuspecting stranger.“

  If it’ll help keep others’ thoughts from his mind, he supposes he might actually read the damn thing.   He finally reaches to take it.  "So, you’re saying in order to stop hearing people’s thoughts, first I’ve gotta learn to listen to them better? Wait."   A sly, suspicious look at Mason from the corners of his eyes.   "If this is you trying to make me more psychic so I can help you ferret out blackmail material, you’re gonna have to cut me in on the profits, y'know.”

“That wasn’t my intention but I imagine nothing I say will convince you of that. So, assume what you like of my intentions for helping you.” Though, he can’t blame Stark for coming to that conclusion.

“However, I suppose it doesn’t matter who you practice on as long as you are practicing. Hell, I’d even offer my own mind if I wasn’t almost certain you’d use it your findings as a weapon. Or you know, blackmail material, as you put it.” Maybe that’s just his paranoia showing. “I am simply trying to be a good friend. For once.” He even offered a reassuring smile in addition to his words.

“Anyway, it’s as I said. Focus on one thought in the person’s mind, block out all the rest. That’s how you start. Get used to doing that and yes, reading minds for specific information will be easier, should you ever want or need to… But it should also eventually help you control the strength of your telepthy so you’re not hearing things you’d really rather not.”

Stark is idly looking over the first few pages, but he isn’t sorry to have a reason to look away, squinting at Mason. "Why the fuck would I blackmail you? You don’t have anything I want.” …yeah. That’s debatable. He has to avert his eyes from the uncharacteristically sincere smile.

Deciding after next to no effort that he’s not in the mood for reading right now, Stark closes the book with finality. “Thanks. For trying to be a good friend or whatever. Not a bad first step. You know what’d be a great next step? Letting me crash here tonight so I can skip whatever Limey tantrum my roommate’s gonna throw if I come back. I kinda mentioned it before but I think you were too busy envying my telepathic prowess to notice.” - another shining example of just how bad Jimmy is at asking for help. If there may be another, more personal reason to feel anxious about this request, he hides it well behind his usual poker face and nonchalant rambling dialogue. He tilts his head, squints just one eye this time. “All right, so maybe I do want something from you. I’m not gonna try to blackmail you, though, that’s waaay too much work for a place to sleep. I’d rather pass out on a couch in the rec room than go to all the trouble of digging up your dark secrets, if you really don’t want me here.”

And just like that, that sincere smile is gone, replaced with a look of annoyance. “Well, if you didn’t complain so much about it, I wouldn’t mind so much,” he snaps back. “But you can stay. Just don’t touch anything you do have to, especially if it looks important or expensive.” Is this him showing his true colours, or is this an act to hide that he’s actually softer than he acts? No one knows for sure, but almost everyone who meets him has an opinion about it. “And it’s only one night, right? That’s the deal.”

[infaimous]

ғоʟʟоԝ ʏоυ номє                                                                        

bullshituberalles​:

infaimous​:

As they set out again in their self-made cage of magic and electricity, Stark also keeps an eye out, scanning the alternating shadows and patches of moonlight. The fog that’s crept up makes visibility so bad he can hardly see to the edge of the shielding.

“Holy fuck, is that another compliment?” Naturally, he uses distracted sarcasm to conceal his genuine surprise and pleasure, throws a exaggeratedly wide-eyed look at Mason before quickly returning to their surroundings. “All in one night, too, must be a record.”

A movement to his left causes him to slow his steps and only distantly pay attention to the guy’s following words. The fog finally thins to reveal a crow, or raven, or some fucking blackbird - Stark’s not a damn ornithologist - rather than a slavering hound, but he still flinches when the bird quarks noisily and takes flight. Clearly, this place is getting to him, too. And how the hell did they end up so far away from the road?

“Yeah, it was fucking hardcore. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not repeat the experience. Next time let’s go to a movie or something.” However flippant his voice is, it’s also barely above a whisper. He’s not going to even address the fact that Mason still wants to do the damn ritual tonight, as if they’re not both tense and filthy and wrung out and smelling like actual death. Because it’s Mason - of course he wants to do it now. Admittedly, Stark’s curious too, but… “Can we also at least take a shower beforehand?”

“You can shower after we do the ritual,” Mason insists as they continue to move steadily. He’s squinting through the dark and the fog, just able to make out where they’re going. “I did not do all this shit just to wait even longer when we get back, and I am not risking anything compromising the success of this ritual. You can wait to take a shower.”

He suddenly stops dead, that horrible feeling of being watched washing over him. Scanning the darkness, Mason carefully looks and listens out for any movement around them. Nothing at first, then a low growl. A sound that chills him to the bone and brings back so many horrific memories he wishes he could forget. “You deal with this one,” he urges quietly, not daring to take his eyes off the beast. “I’ll keep the shield up.”

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles​:

@infaimous [ continued cuz why not. ]

—————

"Uh, I took it that way 'cause that's the way you said it, angel eyes."

"Yeeeeah. So would Kasabian or Cherry Moon or any of the rest'a your People's Temple of creepy worshippers. You've got an On Demand orgy of unattractive pathetic third-rate magicians anytime you want it. But bragging about it just makes you sound desperate...you're not that desperate, are you?"

“I’m not desperate at all so you don’t have to be jealous. Cherry’s the one who’s desperate, since you mentioned it. I really don’t have time for any of that shit. So, if did take time out for a little romance or sex, it would have to be with someone very special and dear to me.” He says all that with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but deep down he perhaps longs for a romantic companion to share his life with. None of the people mentioned even being in the running, either. And Stark would no doubt continue to mock him if he could delve into that dark, twisted mind...

[infaimous]

"You listen to jazz for fun. Admit it."

“Is that your way of trying to find something out about me besides being a ‘cunt’? Points for efforts.”

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles​:

infaimous​:

“Ew, dude, just…ew. I don’t wanna hear anything about the uses you’ve found for Parker’s mouth. Keep that shit to yourself.”

That makes him laugh. “I actually wasn’t implying that but it’s interesting how your brain took it that way.” And is that a flirty smile? “I also know for a fact that if I even hinted that was what I wanted, he wouldn’t hesitate to oblige me.”

[infaimous]

thank you @bullshituberalles

[infaimous]

what we do is secret

bullshituberalles​:

@infaimous​ [continued]

  Whatever expression was on Jimmy’s face drops when Mason pipes up in that patronizing tone. But he doesn’t interrupt. Only watches blankly without blinking. He remains silent after the cunt stops talking, for a few seconds too long, in a vain hope that this time the echo of his own words will make Mason realize how he sounds.

  No such luck, of course.

  “We both know exactly why you don’t get Parker or Kas to help you. Yeah, they’d recite your stupid lines in the order the book says like a couple'a good parrots - not that you ever give em the crackers they earn.” Snatching the highlighted pages from Mason’s grip, he mockingly points at their separate incantations, too. “If you read this part at the same time I’m reading this part, instead of in turn, it’ll weave the aether tighter around the spell, so the next section will have a fuckload more power.  …plus we should add the vegvisir symbol to the north side of the circle, so the summoning locus is more exact.”

  Stark sets the book back down (with care; he’s not trying to entirely piss off Mason), puffs his cheeks out, shrugs carelessly. “Or you can do that cute thing where you ignore to my impeccable instincts and get the same mediocre but sufficient results as everybody else.  That’s probably just as good as my way.”

Now it is Mason who stays silent for a good few seconds, brows furrowed in confusion, a hint of annoyance mixing in too. “You barely even studied the damn spell and suddenly you know better than the book?” Though as he looks over the spell again and considers Stark’s words, they really start to make sense. Frustratingly.

When he looks back at Stark, it’s an expression halfway between jelaousy and awe. “And yet, I feel inclined to try it.” Then, he’s flicking through one of the books around them for the symbol that was suggested to be added. “If this works, I’ll pay you back all those cigarettes I apparently owe you. And if it doesn’t work, we’ll probably both be dead so it won’t matter.” He also can’t help but look up and add, “You are good at breaking things...”

[bullshituberalles]

ғоʟʟоԝ ʏоυ номє

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles‌:

infaimous‌:

  “Never took you for the superstitious type.” It’s certainly been a night for revelations, but Jimmy doesn’t want to deal with any more. He wants to go home, take a long hot shower, eat whatever leftovers are in the fridge, and pass out. So when he’s sure Mason does ‘got this’ he nods and gets started.  Staying within the shield’s protection, he crouches, presses his hands to the ground. It’s dry, hard-packed, so it takes some effort to dig down until his fingers are buried to the base. Once he manages, his eyes half-close, focusing on the earth between his hands, on its unbreakable connection to everything that rests on its surface. His senses seek out, essence stretching wide as it fuses with the natural surroundings. The cracks around his hands begin to spread, fissures splitting the earth in parallel lines racing back to their erstwhile sanctuary.

  What he’s doing isn’t the rigorous ordered hoodoo they teach at the Academy. It’s rougher, draws its force from different sources, it may be more powerful; regardless, he wouldn’t typically use something so sloppy and amateurish around any sub rosa. But for him, it’s still easier.

  First there’s only a cracking sound, then another, within seconds after the third the mausoleum begins a stately collapse. A pillar buckles inward; the roof tiles roof slew sideways. With a roar and grinding the whole impressive edifice picks up momentum to become an avalanche of marble and slate, folding in on itself, spewing dust and debris in a wide radius of destruction that just barely doesn’t reach Stark and Mason.

  It’s likely nobody would have arrested them for grave robbery or animal cruelty, but he feels better with the evidence hidden. The dog’s charred body was near enough to be buried under the mess, and hopefully the human remains inside will be so jumbled than no one will realize the little girl is missing a puzzle piece when they finally dig it out.  As the last stones settle, Stark stands, brushes his palms on his jeans. Turns back to Mason wordlessly, reaches for his hand so he can weave his energy back into their protection spell.

“I’m not, usually,” he murmered. “This place is just drawing it out of me...” Then, all he can do is watch Stark work while keeping concentration up on the protective ward, and also keep an eye out for the other dog. Just in case. There is a moment where he thought they might be in the impact zone for the more destrucitive side of Stark’s spell work, but even that doesn’t distract him enough to drop the warding.

Before long, their arcane energies are intertwined once more so they can finally leave. He’s still vigiantly watching the shadows for any approaching danger, even with their protection still up. “Nice work,” he priased as they made their way back to the car. “At least we can take a breather on the journey back, before we attempt this spell. I am anxious to see if it even works, though. Given how much trouble we just went to to get the last ingredient. It’s just... wow. That was intense. Right?”

[infaimous]

"You listen to jazz for fun. Admit it."

“Is that your way of trying to find something out about me besides being a ‘cunt’? Points for efforts.”

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles​:

infaimous​:

“Really? But it always seems to work when you say it. Guess I need to work on copying that open guileless honest boy-next-door thing you do with your face whenever you scam people.”

“You also need to work on keeping your mouth shut unless you actually plan on making it useful. For once. Honestly, even Parker has mastered that art.”

[bullshituberalles]

ᴘɪстυʀϵѕ οғ ᴀ ᴅɪғғϵʀϵɴт мϵ

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles‌:

infaimous‌:

  Only looking at the book, Stark can tell it’s got that tiny, squashed-together typeface that will give him a headache after two pages. While he complains about reading, he’s happy to let Mason think it’s laziness rather than openly admit how difficult he finds it.

  “What?"   Distracted from glaring at the book, he wrinkles his nose, shakes his head.  "Fuck that! I’ve gotta live with the guy, I don’t need to know what he thinks about when he’s jerking off.” - like the Limey’s posters of half-naked dudes in new wave bands don’t give that away already.   "I can find some unsuspecting stranger.“

  If it’ll help keep others’ thoughts from his mind, he supposes he might actually read the damn thing.   He finally reaches to take it.  "So, you’re saying in order to stop hearing people’s thoughts, first I’ve gotta learn to listen to them better? Wait."   A sly, suspicious look at Mason from the corners of his eyes.   "If this is you trying to make me more psychic so I can help you ferret out blackmail material, you’re gonna have to cut me in on the profits, y'know.”

“That wasn’t my intention but I imagine nothing I say will convince you of that. So, assume what you like of my intentions for helping you.” Though, he can’t blame Stark for coming to that conclusion.

“However, I suppose it doesn’t matter who you practice on as long as you are practicing. Hell, I’d even offer my own mind if I wasn’t almost certain you’d use it your findings as a weapon. Or you know, blackmail material, as you put it.” Maybe that’s just his paranoia showing. “I am simply trying to be a good friend. For once.” He even offered a reassuring smile in addition to his words.

“Anyway, it’s as I said. Focus on one thought in the person’s mind, block out all the rest. That’s how you start. Get used to doing that and yes, reading minds for specific information will be easier, should you ever want or need to... But it should also eventually help you control the strength of your telepthy so you’re not hearing things you’d really rather not.”

[infaimous]

“Let’s say the incantation together.” [from an old sentence starter meme]

Dark Magic sentence starters

“Awww, you did that cute thing again where I talk and you don’t listen to me,” Mason replies, and perfectly times his bitch face right at the end of the sentence. “You read this part...” He points to one part of the spell, then another. “And I read this part.”

An exasperated sigh leaves his lips. “I even highlighted everything you need to do, so you can just follow the spell as it goes. Then, you will know exactly what you need to do and when. Though, if you had just read the whole thing through, to yourself, like I told you to do first, then I would not have to be repeating myself right now. Yet, you wonder why I threaten to get Parker to help me with this shit. Or Kas, or literally anyone who isn’t you!”

[infaimous]

Voicemail?

Send “voicemail” to hear my muse’s drunken voice messages they leave on your muse’s phone [accepting]

“Oh, for fuck sake, Jimmy! Now, you’re too good to answer your damn phone? Oh, wait... You’re probably just too stupid to remember what it’s ffffucking for! Stupid twat! You know, I never even drank before I met you… I didn’t fucking smoke either! What does that tell you about you, huh? I’ll tell you what it fucking says about you! It says that you’re fucking... You’re dumb! And stupid! And… nobody likes you! You just fucking waltzed in and started acting like you’re better than everyone else, but you’re not! I worked my fucking ass off to learn everything I could about magic, practice it as often as I could! Every time it came down to sleep and more practice or research, sleep always came second! And you just pull something out of your ass like it’s nothing, and just lap up the attention like the smug motherfucker you are!”

-drops his voice low and sloppily hisses the words down the phone- “But you know why you’re so good at magic? Because you know pain, Jimmy. That’s where magic comes from. Pain. And I don’t have to wiggle around in your brain to see it. It’s all over your face, your body. Every intricate detail of you is covered in scars. The emotional kind that only the truly fucked up can see...And you know what? If you took a look at me, if you really looked…You don’t have to get inside my head, Jimmy… You just have to look, really look, and you’ll see. Get over yourself and look past the uptight, Grade A Cunt that you pretend to hate. Look deep into these Angel Eyes that you love to get lost in, and you’ll see it. My pain.”

His voice starts to shake now as the emotion starts to overwhelm him. “How it engulfs me until I can’t feel anything else...I try to push it down so I can’t feel it anymore, but then the blinding rage replaces it. A rage that I can’t let go of, Jimmy... And I don’t wanna let it go... I don’t want to stop until the world is burning, and I’m standing among its ashes.” Soft sobs can be heard through the phone now, as tears fall onto it. “You’re there with me, Jimmy...Standing right by my side, smiling at the chaos we made together. The complete destruction we left in our wake… We could do such wonderful and terrible things together...If you just let me in…”

[unexpected-rp-memes]

Send "voicemail" to hear my muse's drunken voice messages they leave on your muse's phone

[infaimous]

"You listen to jazz for fun. Admit it."

“Is that your way of trying to find something out about me besides being a ‘cunt’? Points for efforts.”

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles‌:

  “The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, Sunshine. It’s okay, you can trust me.”

“Only people who can’t be trusted insist you can trust them. I was always suspicous anyway. Also, there’s no problem. However, I do appreciate your concern.”

[infaimous]

"You listen to jazz for fun. Admit it."

“Is that your way of trying to find something out about me besides being a ‘cunt’? Points for efforts.”

[bullshituberalles]

ᴘɪстυʀϵѕ οғ ᴀ ᴅɪғғϵʀϵɴт мϵ

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles‌:

infaimous‌:

  It’s true: He isn’t any good at asking for help. That doesn’t make it easy to hear, especially not from such a source. While Mason turns to his beloved bookshelf, Stark’s narrowed eyes scan the various objects on the desk. Trying to decide which one to throw at the back of that smug cunt’s over-inflated head. “You’d sure be one shitty therapist.”

  There’s an orb of some greenish-grey iridescent stone which fits comfortably in his fist. Stark hefts it thoughtfully, gauging the weight. Before he can start his Dizzy Dean imitation, however, Mason has turned and is offering a so-called solution.

  “That’s not innovative, dear. That’s a book.” His voice is patient but disappointed; he’s frozen with the heavy chunk of rock still innocent in his hand. He raises his eyes slowly to meet the other magician’s. “You know how I feel about reading."   With a melodramatic sigh, he replaces the almost-weapon and stands, moves closer to make out the title, but does not touch it.  "Enlighten me, then. How’s this masterpiece gonna solve all my problems?”

Mason’s initial response is to roll his eyes. Then, seeing the stone in Starks's hand makes him stiffen slightly. He follows its path with his gaze and he only relaxes when it’s put back. 

“If you actually read it, you’ll know,” he answers with a tightlipped smiled. A sharp sigh leaves his lips before he quickly adds, “Though, since you won’t, I can give you the cliff notes. It’s about blocking out the unwanted thoughts, which can be achieved by first learning to isolate individual thoughts.”

This may be easier if he was more willing to let Stark practice on him, which he isn’t. “You could practice on your light-fingered roommate,” he suggests with a subtle smirk. “There’s no way he knows how to put wards up to block that kind of thing.”

[bullshituberalles]

ᴘɪстυʀϵѕ οғ ᴀ ᴅɪғғϵʀϵɴт мϵ

[infaimous]

bullshituberalles‌:

“Fuck, yes, it’s different. Why you think my last relationship was such an incandescent failure?” And the one before, and the one before that…that’s what he gets for dating civilians with wide-open thoughts. Mason, on the other hand… “I’m not saying I wanna tap into your brain 24/7, or hear your thoughts at all. Just sometimes it’d be cool to have a clue what’s going on in that dark scheming twisted nefarious mind of yours."  A pause, before he adds: "Then again, judging from those questions, your opinion of me is probably even lower than I think it is so maybe not.”

This possibility is also intriguing, maybe kind of depressing. As evident from his forming scowl, Stark’s not sure whether he should be upset or not. When the other guy goes on, the scowl solidifies into irritation. "And you’re only telling me this now? You knew how much of a pain in the ass this shit is, you’ve known for years. Why not offer to help before?”

…then after a noticeable pause, with a minuscule, forced smile: “I mean, yeah, thanks.  That’d be badass and suspiciously generous of you.”

The criticism gets an infuriatingly smug grin from Mason, and he doesn’t even acknowledge the gratitude that follows. “Oh, Jimmy... You never asked.” He lets that sink in for a moment before moving away to examine his books. 

“In fact, you rarely ask me to help you with anything,” he continues, speaking over his shoulder without even tossing Stark a glance. He’s too busy skimming through his collection, picking one up to look through the contents until he finds the exact ones he needs. “The most you do is come and rant to me like I’m your therapist.” 

He turns abruptly, book in hand. “No that I’m complaining,” he adds as he walks back over to Stark. “It’s just that I have innovative ideas and solutions to the problems you complain about. And this,” he gestures to the book he’s holding, “could potentially be one of them.”