feel it all

Phoebe Murray, 26, witch. Therapist at West Hollow Hospital and Spell Master at the Wardwell Shoppe. “It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply.”

[phoebemurray-blog1]

kiraarosales:

IT WARMED KIRA’S HEART to know that there were other adults out there who did these traditions. being a fairy made it easy to believe in fairytales. or at least to humor them and have some fun doing it. it was harmless and it was sweet. to keep a part of oneself young that way was a noble thing to do for kira.

there was a grateful smile on her face. she was also very happy the woman seemed kind and was not angry. one could easily be surprised by the impatience some people had with the antics of children. ❛ you can definitely keep it. ❜ kira said with a laugh. tristan was smiling in response to the woman’s smile and being addressed. he liked the attention on him. ❛ it’s the least we could do for tristan’s aim ! ❜

Phoebe smiled at the woman’s thoughts, comforted by the fact that she was happy Phoebe also made wishes in fountains. She was also intrigued to hear that the woman was a fairy. Though, Phoebe guesses she should have known. Most fairies have blindingly bright pink auras that stretch far out from their bodies. They were often warm, generous, and breathtaking people. She had no doubt that this woman was the same.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I love kids.” It wasn’t a lie. Growing up as an only child, Phoebe had always wanted younger siblings. Though she never got one, she would often babysit for her neighbors and always loved interacting with children. “Do you have any other pennies? Maybe we could all make a wish together.” Phoebe knew how cheesy it sounded, but this reminded her so much of her mother that she wanted to recreate those moments with her, even if it was just for a second.

[lucybaird]

you are drawn, mind and body, to the discovery of magic

[phoebemurray-blog1]

elenaridley:

Elena straightened up and placed the book on top of the rest of the woman’s pile, grabbing her own as she did so, if only to have something to do with her hands. She held it up so the other could see the cover, where the title THE NIGHT CIRCUS was splayed over an image of black and white tents. 

      “This one’s about magic, too, apparently, so I guess you could say I am.” 

She offered a smile and shook her hand with her free one, and tucked the book under her arm. 

      “Elena. And it’s no problem —I bumped into you, anyway.”

Phoebe looked at the book the other woman held up. Though she had never read The Night Circus, Phoebe knew enough about it to know that it centered around a group of magicians. She wasn’t sure if this woman was trying to assume something about Phoebe or not. Unable to get any information from her thoughts, she looked over the woman’s aura. Currently a bright green, Phoebe assumed that this woman didn’t have an ulterior motive, but Phoebe decided to ask anyways: “Sorry, Elena, but I can’t tell if we’re talking in metaphors or not...” Phoebe squinted at her and then realized Elena had given her her name, but Phoebe hadn’t mentioned hers. 

“I’m Phoebe, by the way.”

[arielcantrell-blog]

Ariel’s eyes scanned the room, the loud music thudding in their ears and drowning out the idle chatter of most of the other club patrons. They could feel eyes on their back, the gaze of the friends they’d gone out with. A night out on the town was one of their favorite things to do. It wasn’t the drinking or the dancing they’d made it so fun to them but the socialization. Ariel was an extrovert through and through, something they’d been bragging about to their friends after one of them had mentioned how hard it was approaching strangers. 

Really, they’d set themselves up for it. What was it? The dare. Pick any one person in the crowd and talk to them for ten minutes. Ariel had to get their name and they couldn’t walk away in that time period. If they could get that person’s phone number or convince them to join their group for the evening, Ariel’s wouldn’t have to pay for their drinks. If they weren’t a complete stranger, then the second part of the dare wasn’t optional. If they failed, they had to pay for drinks. It wasn’t like the angel was going to say no, not least for the sake of their wallet.

Gaze settling on someone, Ariel approached with a bright smile, sidling up next to them. “Hi!” they called over the noise of the music, holding out their hand to the person. “How’s your night going?”

[phoebemurray-blog1]

Phoebe wasn’t usually one to go out, but the loud music and alcoholic beverages made for a good distraction from a stressful day. Phoebe leaned against the wall, one of her legs hiked up, minding her own business as much as a mind reader could. She sipped her drink and gazed across the room. Phoebe saw a man walking in her direction, but assumed he was just going to walk right past her, so she looked away. Though when she heard his greeting, she looked up abruptly, noticing that the man was standing right next to her with his arm stretched out. 

“Uh, hi,” She said, awkwardly, reaching up to shake his hand. “It’s going...It’s going. Sorry, do I know you?”

[phoebemurray-blog1]

rohan-rowe:

Rohan nodded in agreement. “Yeah, sure, no problem,” she agreed easily with a smile, picking up some of the books. She had no problem helping someone out. You see, she believed that if you did a good thing, it put good energy out into the universe causing other good things to happen elsewhere like a happy domino effect. She always like hoped that maybe if enough people were kind enough, maybe all of the bad in the world would just cease to exist altogether. “Lead the way. I’m Rohan, by the way, but call me Ro.”

At her nod, Phoebe began to lead the other girl, who she now knew was Rohan - Ro - towards the back of the bookstore. “Thank you for doing this. I do really appreciate it.” Once they had gotten to one of the sections Phoebe had gotten books from, Phoebe set one book back on the shelf and then told Ro which of the ones she was holding belonged there too. Once they were done, Phoebe began walking to another part of the store. Realizing that this might take a little bit of time, Phoebe decided she could get to know Ro in the process. 

“So, Ro, where do you work?”

[phoebemurray-blog1]

soulofsin:

Ah, yes. Their session. Mila never had any plans to return, feeling herself to be mentally skilled enough to be able to pull herself out of the mess of grief and sorrow she had put herself into. It would’ve been a different story had she first sought out Pheobe, instead of several years after the fact, but she had already done a lot of the groundwork for healing herself. Deep down, deeper than she was willing to access, she knew it still affected her. It was in the way she acted, the careful way she was with each client as opposed to how freeing she once was, the fact that she constantly slept with her phone on loud and gave her number to clients. 

“No, no,” Mila assured, choosing her next words carefully, “you were simply so exceptional, I only needed the one,” she said, her teasing playful, before sighing, and returning to her Russian stoicism as she shrugged, “No, I had just decided enough was enough, and it was time to move on,” how much this was true was open to interpretation, but it was the truth Mila had settled on believing. She raised a single brow at her next comment. She had heard that the beach event went…as well as most events in West Hollow did. Despite her attendance, she did not stay long after the fairy dust had hit the shore. She preferred to keep her nose out of such things, dealing with enough problems on her own. “Oh? Do tell,” she prodded, “I am well aware at how…this town can be. Some days, I wonder if I would be better off somewhere else,” as if she could leave. Then, she sighed sadly, “But, living a decade without going much of anywhere, I’m afraid I haven’t a clue what’s going on,” 

Mila was happy to talk about her already-growing practice, “Well, in fact. I’ve a few clients I’m particularly excited about. And you?” 

Phoebe laughed at Mila’s joke, letting a little bit of the tension release from her body. “Well, good, then. I guess I should take being too good a therapist as a compliment. I just wish I could feel that way about my other clients. Sometimes it’s hard to know if I’m actually helping or not...” Phoebe trailed off, getting a little lost in thought as she went over the past few session she’s hard. She shook her head and snapped back into reality. “And this is coming from the witch who can read minds.” Phoebe understood what Mila meant about knowing when to move on. It’s something Phoebe has been trying to do for years. Though she lives life like she’s moved on, finding the vampire that killed her mother always sits at the back of her mind. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever really be able to let go of that without answers.

Phoebe tilted her head side to side, wondering what was worth telling about the goings on in West Hollow. “You know, good versus evil. Angels versus demons versus werewolves versus vampires versus witches and on and on and on. It’s like everything that happens here tells us the same truth over and over again - that we may never be able to live in peace in this town.” Phoebe usually wasn’t the one to be negative, but this was a truth she has been grappling with. All of this death, all of these disappearances...they never end, you know?” Phoebe shook her head and looked down. “Sorry, I’m totally bringing the mood down, aren’t I?”

Upon hearing that Mila’s practice was doing well, Phoebe smiled at the girl. “I’m glad to hear things are working out for you. And me? Things are pretty good down at the hospital. I’m hoping to gain a few more clients soon, but the ones I do have have been pretty successful.”

[phoebemurray-blog1]

♠

My muse on a bad day

There are some days when Phoebe wakes up and feels the weight of the world on her shoulders — she can feel her neighbor’s grief from down the street, can hear the anxious and anguished thoughts of the doctors at the hospital, can feel the sharp needles and deep cuts of the patients. Some days, Phoebe can’t walk down the sidewalk without getting whiplash from all of the emotions she feels. There are some days where Phoebe isn’t able to control her powers, even after years of practicing. She calls days like these her “cheat days”. She’ll sometimes leave work early, rescheduling whatever appointments she may miss that day, and curl up on her couch with one too many blankets, trying to drown out all of the thoughts and feelings by watching tv or listening to loud music. Sometimes she’ll paint or draw, even though she’s terrible at it, just to try to get her mind of things. Some days, she’ll cast a spell to keep her from feeling, allowing herself to be numb for a few hours. 

But today...today Phoebe couldn’t leave work early, couldn’t reschedule appointments to go home and curl in on herself. Today, Phoebe closed the door behind one of her clients and found herself sinking down against it, tucking her head in between her knees and trying to keep her breaths deep and even. Today, Phoebe cries on the floor of her office, understanding that the sadness isn’t her own, but accepting it anyway. 

[phoebemurray-blog1]

“I am a brutally soft woman.”

[hopefeir]

requested by anon

[phoebemurray-blog1]

ohmygadhavi:

Karan couldn’t help but laugh at her question, finding it a little endearing that out of all the questions she could possibly pose, she’d want to know if he’d met a historical figure – and it was Shakespeare, no less. “I’ll admit that I got to see a few of his plays up close,” he said, “When he was alive, at least. Did you know a few of his pieces were written while he was dead? He died long before he was actually pronounced dead in the history books. What they don’t want you to know is that he’s still living it up somewhere in Stratford, England to this day. 

“Maybe ‘living it up’ is the wrong way to put it, actually?” He corrected, cracking a small smile. “What I meant to say is he’s still lingering around and trying to keep up with the times as best as a ghost can. He’s a real cocky son of a bitch now, but who can blame him? I’d probably have an ego bigger than his if I was a world-renowned playwright, poet, and author who was worshiped by millions, yet the bane of every high schooler’s existence. Wouldn’t you?”

Though she was clearly joking about the hipster fashion, the angel couldn’t help but wonder if he’d make open vests and baggy pants work. It wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but definitely not ideal for an everyday look. “The job definitely has its fair share of perks. Sometimes I have to sit through shows I’d rather not go to, but it’s a small price to pay. Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you do? Muttering Latin and sitting in chairs sounds like a dream come true.”

Phoebe’s mouth fell agape as the man told her about Shakespeare. “No way,” She said, half in disbelief and half in astonishment. “No way! You’re telling me Shakespeare has just been...floating around for the past four hundred years or so? Oh my God,” She started, eyes widening, “I still have the chance to meet Shakespeare. Well, if I ever leave Oregan.” Though Phoebe, unlike many people born in West Hollow, got to leave the town for college, she has only been outside of Oregan once: to visit her father in Seattle. She likes to think she’s too busy to leave, that the witches and warlocks of West Hollow need her here, but deep inside she knows that’s just an excuse. “I mean, if I were a world-renowned playwright, poet, and author who is currently existing as a ghost, I think I would feel a little entitled, yes.” Phoebe laughed, agreeing with him. “But, hey, you’re wrong about him being the bane of every high schooler’s existence. My parents got me into Shakespeare pretty young, so I always loved his work. Also, I’m still pretty sure I was the only one in my graduating class at West Hollow High who actually read Macbeth.” 

Phoebe cringed again at the man thinking he could rock open vests and baggy pants. “Hey, we’ve already established that I can read your mind, so I’m just going to tell you now that the open vest and baggy pants thing? Not a fan.” She said, the corners of her mouth sliding upwards. “But if you want to try it,” Phoebe put her hands up as if she had just been caught by the police, a glint of mischief in her eyes, “I guess I can’t stop you. You just have to promise that I have the right to one picture, okay?”

Though she was surprised when he had asked about what she does, Phoebe realized that answering his questions was the least she could do, considering that fact that he had just willingly answered some odd ones of her won. “Well, I wasn’t lying when I said I was a therapist. I work at the hospital. But my semi-official other job is that I am spell master at the Wardwell Shoppe. You know, over on the East side of town? So, my job pretty much consists of me knowing every spell that ever was or ever will be, which is where the muttering latin and sitting in chairs all day comes in.”

[phoebemurray-blog1]

exeltiers:

“Well, it might be a little too late for that,” Pascal quipped, sarcastically, as he tried hard not to feel embarrassed for misinterpreting Phoebe’s offer for help as being more than what it was. He was never one to be quite good at social cues. He watched as the witch did what she needed and stole quick glances of the left and the right, but tried to focus mostly on Phoebe. When the time came, Pace let the woman aide him in actually getting into the Shoppe. His jaw was clenched as the pain shuttered through his abdomen. “I can’t—,” He sounded exasperated as he looked around for somewhere to sit. “I can’t tell you everything,” He said. “But if it’s not clear… I got shot, but if you can get this damn bullet out, then I’ll think about telling you what really happened,” Pascal explained before looking back at Phoebe. “…Okay?” He asked for confirmation from her, probably a bit more sternly than he intended, but he was in pain and felt it was warranted.

Phoebe sighed at the man’s stubbornness, half annoyed that he wouldn’t tell her what happened and half knowing that she didn’t have time to pry. She dragged the man over to one of the tables in the shop. In one clean swoop, she knocked the books off of the table and helped the man climb onto it. Once he was laying down, as comfortably as he could be on the stone cold table, Phoebe sprung into action. “Make sure you keep pressure on the wound, okay?” She said, turning away from him. She prowled the book shelves in the shop, searing for one that involves healing spells. She took a couple off of the shelf and made her way back to the table, beginning to flip through them at a speed fast enough to rip pages if Phoebe wasn’t careful. 

“Look,” She said, head still looking down at the books, “I’m not a doctor, okay? I’m going to do what I can to help you, but you have to help me out a little bit too.” A part of her considered calling Evanora, knowing that the supreme witch would be able to handle this a lot smoother than Phoebe, but she didn’t want to worry her. She knew Evanora had a lot on her plate already. Plus, Phoebe was spell master of this place. She knew what she was doing. She just...had to believe that she could do it, had to replace any doubts with the knowledge and power she already had. “So, can you at least tell me if you know what you were shot with?” Phoebe said, finally looking up from her books. “I don’t mean what type of gun. I mean, is the bullet magic at all? The type of spell I use to help you is dependent on my knowledge of what hurt you.” 

[phoebemurray-blog1]

Phoebe Murray’s bedroom at Wardwell’s.

Growing up as an only child, Phoebe has always been used to having her own room, and this didn’t change when she moved into Wardwell’s. What also didn’t change about Phoebe’s room was how cluttered it always was. Never one for minimalism, Phoebe’s room is filled with books from the floor to the ceiling, clothes that hang on the back of chairs just as often as they do on hangers, and shelves covered in old relics and tea cups and candles. As she spends a lot of time in her room, Phoebe likes to keep most of her own spell and divination materials in the room with her so that she is able to work with them on her own time. You can find her desk in one corner of the room, which holds her desktop and some papers and things that she needs for work. In another corner, you can find a carpet and a small altar. This is where Phoebe practices magic, as well as where she meditates every morning (which helps her control her powers). Though Phoebe personally tried to make her room at Wardwell’s different from her room in her childhood home, she still decided to keep the walls her favorite color: purple. 

From top left downwards to top right downwards: shelf, bed + duvet, desk area, altar + meditation area, book shelves, clothes hanging rack/closet

[kiraarosales]

THE DAY WAS BEAUTIFUL. it was still a little chilly but kira could tell her little one was becoming too restless indoors. tristan loved being outside, just as much as his mommy did. ( and as much as his daddy used to… ) 

❛ come on, little starfish ! ❜ the fairy encouraged her son. she cooed and smiled at him. ❛ throw the coin in the fountain and make a wish ! ❜ the mother nuzzled her young son with sweet affection and kissed his cheek. but the mischievous little boy carelessly flung the penny backwards instead. the copper coin accidentally hit someone someone passing by. 

kira gasped and turned. sunkissed fingers and bitten nails flew went to her mouth in shock and pure embarrassment. ❛ oh my goodness, i am SO sorry ! ❜ she hurried over to them as her toddler smiled. sometimes he found it funny when his mother became flustered. ❛ are you okay ?! ❜

[phoebemurray-blog1]

Phoebe knew it was childish, but she’s always loved wishing on pennies in fountains. It was something her and her mother used to do together every time they went to the park: Her mother would take out two pennies, hold Phoebe’s hand, and whisper, “May all our wishes come true”, before they threw them in. Phoebe always believed in the act, as somehow most of her wishes would come true in one form or another. Phoebe wasn’t sure if this was because the universe was on her side or if her mother used her powers to know what Phoebe had wished for. Either way, she still took part in the act to this day, comforted by her mother’s belief that wishes were the easiest ― and safest ― form of magic in the world. 

As Phoebe walked towards the fountain that day, she wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing, too busy digging around in her bag for a penny. When she finally gave up on looking for one, she lifted her head only to be hit by something small and cold. She blinked confusedly before seeing a woman walking towards her with her child. Pheobe’s confused look was quickly replaced by a friendly one. 

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I’m okay! It was just a penny, after all.” She then smiled at the baby and gave him a small wave. “Hi, how are you bud? I was going to make a wish too and couldn’t find a penny. I guess you are my lucky charm.”

[exeltiers-blog]

Weariness wasn’t something Pascal usually expressed, but as he waited for the other to open the door, he found it near impossible to ignore. Normally he wouldn’t do this, come to anyone for help, other than an odd fairy here and there. He tended to much prefer licking his own wounds over playing the victim — Pace didn’t let anyone help, even when they offered, even when they weren’t taking pity on him… But this time it wasn’t a normal injury, it wasn’t a lucky miss, it was a lucky hit and he didn’t know what else to do… The Hospital was never an option for a supernatural. He was bleeding, quite a bit, and he was pretty sure he’d been shot, but his head was starting to spin. “I—I think I might like to take you up on that offer for help.” He stammered over his words as he heard the door creak open, somehow attempting to make light of a very serious situation.

[phoebemurray-blog1]

Phoebe, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Wardwell Shoppe, felt the arrival of the man before she had even heard him knock. She was meditating, like she usually does in the mornings. It was one of the things Evanora had taught Phoebe to do to control her powers. Mediating slowed down her mind, helped her focus in on one thing, and made overall made her powers feel a lot less overwhelming than they usually did. However, this morning, her usually peaceful meditation area was interrupted when she felt a tight pain in her stomach. She cried out, hunching over as she tried to find the cause of the pain. When she lifted her shirt to find no wounds or blood anywhere, she looked around the room confusedly, understanding that this must not be her pain that she was feeling.

A second later, she heard a knock at the front of the Shoppe door. She stumbled her way to her feet, still putting pressure on the place that hurt, and limped towards the door. When Phoebe opened it, a man she vaguely recognized was on the other side. She remembered him as someone she had met in passing. Phoebe had given her business card to him, telling him that if he ever needed help with anything to give her a call. “I meant ― I meant help with therapy, not ― “ The scorching pain in her side kept Phoebe from finishing her sentence. As she felt the man’s man pain grow, Phoebe decided that now was not the time for conversation. She then closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and willed the pain to go away, knowing she’d be a lot more helpful if they weren’t both doubled over.

Once she was calmer, and able to stand up straight, she finally took the man in: there was blood all over him and he looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Phoebe quickly hopped into action. She walked to the man and grabbed onto the good side of body, leading him into the Shoppe.

“Okay, the only way I’m going to know how to help you is if you tell me exactly what happened.”

[hopefeir]

[phoebemurray-blog1]

lindyabbott:

Lindy couldn’t remember the last time someone had complimented her on her smile, but she was glad that this woman seemed to appreciate it. “Your smile says good things about you too.” The woman had a pleasant smile. Lindy had a feeling that it was genuine, but she also got the feeling that there was something holding her back.

“Nice to meet you Phoebe, fellow Hufflepuff. I’m Linda, but most people call me Lindy.” She shifted her books to the crook of her elbow and shook the woman’s hand. “I’m sorry about making you drop your books.”

“No, It ―” Phoebe was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone in her pocket. She quickly dug it out and then unlocked the screen to find a text from Evanora telling her to come back to Wardwell’s immediately. Having gotten that same text on many different occasions from the supreme witch for a plethora of reasons, Phoebe knew it was better to just go home instead of trying to get information over text. Phoebe looked up apologetically at the woman  ―  who she now knew was Lindy  ―  and gave her a small smile. “Lindy, I’m sorry, but it looks like I have to run. My...boss just called me in for something.” She set her basket full of books down on a book case near her and texted a quick reply to Evanora:

12: 41pm ― on my way. 

“It was really nice to meet you, though. Truly. And don’t even worry about the books, okay?” Phoebe said a quick goodbye and began to walk away. She only made it a few steps before she turned back around, interrupted by a thought. “Wait, actually,” She started, digging into her back pocket for one of her business cards. “If you ever want to reach me at all, for anything, just call that number.” She pointed at the phone number on the front of the card, then began to walk away once more. “Oh! And Lindy,” Phoebe said, turning around once more. “I hope you enjoy Harry Potter.” 

[phoebemurray-blog1]

rohan-rowe:

Rohan smiled as the girl handed her the phone. “Thanks,” after a quick glance at the screen she slid it into her pocket. “It’s all good. I honestly get the same way with books. Nothing can compare to getting lost in one, right?” She knew all too well the temptation of stories- the feel of paper under her fingers and the weight in her hands with the scent of the book wafting up gently. “Do you want some help walking these to your car or something?”

Phoebe was glad to see that the woman’s phone was okay. She laughed at the woman’s statement, nodding in agreement. “Nothing can compare at all.” Phoebe then really thought about whether or not she was actually going to buy all of these books today. She shook her head to herself, coming to a decision. “Actually, could you maybe help me put a few of them back?” Phoebe said, leaning over to pick up a couple of books from the pile. “I really don’t think I’m going to buy all of these. At least, not today. I can show you where they go if you could just help me carry a few of them. Apparently I’m incredibly accident prone today so I don’t really want to risk doing it on my own.”