Practically Perfect In Every Way

Mary Poppins. Physically 23. Demon. Protector of Children.

[the-mist-coming-in]

onlyanelectedofficial·:

Despite being the mayor, Mason was often oblivious to the things that went on in Prentiss. He always had his nose in paperwork, hiding in his pretty little office, trying to get important things done… and trying to avoid all the bad vibes around town. Now, Mason appreciated all of the supernatural beings that lived among them. He worked hard to keep them safe. That was the whole point if this place’s existence, their safe haven. But he was also a mere human, and it was sometimes overwhelming to think how many werewolves, vampires and living dead he was walking past on the daily. People that could snap him in half if they wanted to.

The casino was not his scene. Far from it, even amongst human company. He tried to steer clear of anything Oliver was behind, but he felt it was his job to check it out. To make sure nothing sketchy was going on around their home. So here he sat, bouncing his leg underneath the table, eyes flickering from face to face, hoping for once that no one recognized him.

Jumping slightly at the sound of the sudden voice beside of him, Mason tried to hide his nerves behind a smile. “Hello,” he greeted Mary after clearing his throat, voice lowered. “How pathetic would it make me look if I said I didn’t actually know how to play?”

*

Mary tilted her head, taking in his whisper. Her smile was nothing short of comforting, “Nothing pathetic about a bit of temperance.” She wondered how easy or difficult it would be to keep him here, to let the thrill and the danger of the game take hold of him - especially if he was new. Was he new to all gambling or simply the game? So many questions flowed and each only mounted the possibilities for a bit of trouble.

“I have often been told I am quite the good luck charm. Perhaps you will be the night’s recipient of it.” She patted his hand softly before holding it up to the dealer to hold on her cards. “Let me see what you have. After all, an experienced mentor a winner makes.” Mary offered it out helpfully, leaning in to glance at his cards.

[the-mist-coming-in]

childthiefpan·:

@the-mist-coming-in·

Well, a mother, a real mother, is the most wonderful person in the world. She’s the angel voice that bids you goodnight, kisses your cheek, whispers ‘sleep tight. 

“Hello mum,” Peter whispered behind her ear, his lithe feet settling down on the ground where he landed. He moved around her, his head tilting while he kept his gentle-looking eyes locked with hers. “Have you come to watch some of my shows?” The young man, a mischievous grin pulling across his face from ear to ear. “I’ve written some songs for you.”

*

Mary had ignored the draw to Peter as long as she could. Mistakes had been made in her life. Trusting Idris had been her greatest. Even now, she had him captured, she should be moving as quickly as she could away from Prentiss with him in tow, but without even existing on this plane, he had her stuck in town where he could continue to corrupt, because here was their child. Idris paid no mind to those terms, but facts were facts. It had been their magic together that brought Peter to them - and his magic that tore the boy away from her. She never could quite bring herself to call the boy a mistake, no matter how much pain he caused to her and the world around them. Tonight, she had known he would find her as much as she hoped to simply watch his show and leave with him none the wiser - a contradiction that seemed to prevail when it came to her whole life where Idris was concerned. 

As it was, she was not surprised when she heard his voice at her ear. The idea that he had written songs about her both touching her heart and filling herself with dread. There was no telling what these songs would say. “I have come to watch this show, at least. It’s so rare I get to cheer you on anymore.”

“Should I be concerned about these songs?” Mary asked honestly, no use in beating around the bush. “A second glass of wine to help it go down?” It was figurative, she could not have got drunk if she wanted, but the message was clear - something sweet to help her deal with something bitter.

[the-mist-coming-in]

The casino was not Mary’s usual haunt. It was really a matter of reputation. No one wanted to hire a nanny that spent most of her time at the booziest establishment in town... but desperate times called for desperate measures. Idris’ presence resonated from the locket that hung around her neck. Adults were oblivious, as they were to anything that did not fit their scope of “reality”, but children picked up on it and children ran. They sprinted away from her in the streets now. It had happened once before, in those lost years she had given to the demon that she now kept trapped, and she was not so clever that she missed the tie to him now. 

At least during the day she was allowed to take the thing off, breathe, but it only slowed the damage being done.

It was time to fall back on her old tricks. Oliver had done well. The casino was practically a playground for demons. He had come such a long way since the first time they met. She was not his maker, she did not believe in such anymore, but still she could feel proud as she slid between two bodies at the blackjack table. “Deal me in, please.”

[misandriste]

⤷ endless gifs of lena luthor ∞

katie mcgrath as lena luthor supergirl ⪼ 4x04: ahimsa

[zuzcreation]

Olivia Cooke for the Met Gala 2017 (x5)

[the-mist-coming-in]

latenghtdevil·:

The demon rolled his eyes at her words, the corner of his lips twitching in disgust at the lameness. “Not unless those tricks involve a disappearing act,” he growled angrily, his blood boiling over her demonstration of her growing power. His jaw tightened, pearlescent teeth grinding against one another. “There’s not enough power in the world for you to be able to undo my influence on the world. But I’ll be frank with you, Mary, I forgot you existed. Give me enough time, and I’ll be sure to make that a fact.”

“My apologies - “ he began, his voice littered with spite to indicate how un-sorry he was. “I’ve killed a lot of people. I think you’ll have to be more specific.  Or – no wait, I don’t really care.” He stopped to think, recalling the event she spoke of briefly before continuing with a chuckle on his lips, “It’s cute that you think I kept him away - even though it was because of your lovely assistance in breaking my brother’s concentration that I was even able to lash out to get my revenge for sabotaging my schemes. He had plenty of opportunity to come find you, you know. But did he? No, in his head, he can’t afford the distraction. Too bad he’s still losing.

*

In moments, Mary wondered how she could have loved him, how she could have been so completely devoted to him... that was inaccurate. After all, it had not been him that she loved but some avatar he created to pull her in. The question was then how she was so blind as to be fooled so thoroughly. 

“Oh, I have no doubt you did.” Mary was nonplussed by his attempts to brush her off. “Despite how weak-minded that would make you look - to forget the existence of a person you have known for literal hundreds of years. I would never point out how that reflects back so poorly on your intelligence.” Despite the intense sarcasm of her words, her tone never seemed to change, only a single raised eyebrow as she passed around him in a circle, never turning her back his direction.

It was his next hit her direction that landed, the understanding they both had that Silas was choosing to keep away from her - and the deeper knowledge that it was her fault that Silas kept away from her. With a single sentence, Idris wiped away her cockiness as well as her patience with his company. “Do not claim your victory yet - you made a mistake coming here, attracting my attention. Perhaps you had an edge before now --” As she spoke, the world around them changed, the sky lightened to a crystal clear blue, the sounds of families and children grew from a whisper to a delighted chatter, “But now he has me and i will not let you win.”

She stepped back into the scene that now surrounded them, the river that ran by, the happy faces of families enjoying a sunny day, and with a smile, she bid Idris an eager, “Good night.”

[the-mist-coming-in]

latenghtdevil·:

-

Chernobog. A demon, a primordial being, the manifestation of bad fate – Thought to be the god of darkness by the Slavs when he rampaged their country and brought a spell of terror and fear upon him. He was insatiable in his limitless hunger, only appeased when the earth was reduced to ash. The dark ages he ruled with an iron fist – until his brother - Belobog, of light and auspicious fate - his polar opposite, brought his reign of darkness to a temporary end. The two entwined in eternal battle, Chernobog trying to overrule light with darkness, and Belobog, determined to keep his chaotic brother in check.  

Idris was on the rise again. Darkness began to creep and spread through the lands, and he fed off of every hateful and despicable act committed by mortals on the verge of evil. Power between him and his brother had begun to sway in his favor and he grew more and more insatiable as his appetite could never be quenched. 

He had another in the clutches of his hands, a tainted heart he’d groomed, ripe for devouring. It could be – with this soul, balance would be tipped fully into his favor, but seconds before he’d completed the terrible act, something hooked him on the elbow, pulling him from his victim.

Rage boiled up from deep within him at the interruption and the boldness of the woman who’d stepped within his way. His eyebrows furrowed, jaw tightening at the kiss she’d thrust upon him. Before he had enough time to recover from the surprise, he saw at the corner of his eye his victim scurry away.

“Mary,” he growled, a deep gruffness in his voice, “Just as the turning of the seasons is inevitable, so was my return. You’ve no right to interfere with my business. Leave or I’ll end your time with this host of yours prematurely.”

*

“Careless threats lead to careless mistakes.”

Mary’s warning lay seriously at the pit of her advice. Her hands hardened against Idris’ skin before he was released, the footsteps of his prey scattering away in the distance. It was a fatal flaw of the demon’s needs - hearts could not be taken by force. They were strong, humanity fought against his darkness naturally - one of the greatest differences between her kind and theirs. Hearts must be willingly given over, it was her theory, and those terror-filled feet would be happy to never see Idris again.

“While you have lived off dregs, I have done quite well for myself, and I am well-equipped to interfere as much as I like. Would you like to see my new tricks?” As Mary had grown more powerful, so had her magic, and she raised a hand happily so that the alley behind them grew fuzzy, faint. “Not a single picture needed, and see.” It came into focus, them, from moments before, a replay she played of her jerking him back with her umbrella handle again and again and again. “I wonder how many of your maneuvers I could go back and change... I haven’t tried, but, for you, dear Idris, I would relish in it.”

“You killed those children, you kept him from me for 100 years - and I am so very eager to repay the favor.” 

[the-mist-coming-in]

Mary stepped neatly into the alley, shadows consuming the space but her eyes easily sought out the man she had come for. Idris was never one to lower himself to hunching - and yet his being seemed to surround the poor soul with him. Barely human now, the demon’s tendrils had wound their way deep into his heart and she was intimately aware of what was happening at this very moment. A heart, the very one that beat in the man’s chest, being strangled out by darkness, the oxygen that gave him life replaced with twilight - as midnight set in Prentiss Town, it set in this man’s world, and there would be nothing more Mary could do.

Quickly she lifted her umbrella, flinging it out so that the hook caught his elbow and jerked the demon back into her arms. “Idris, my love, a dance?”

How long had it been since she had been this close to them? Since she had stared into his eyes, gazed upon his face? A soft hand cupped his cheek while the other held him firmly against her. Silas was in there, and she leaned in, kissing him gently before scolding Idris, “That was not for you.”

Mary glanced over her shoulder at his victim where he lay frail upon the ground. “And you and I shall be having a discussion later about choosing better friends. Now run along before I change my mind and let him have you.”

[the-mist-coming-in]

kingofdisappointment·:

“Wow, mortals have been busy little bees these last few hundred years,” the man spoke out loud to no one in particular, starring at the television on the wall of the bar while he grabbed the cocktail in front of him. Haden glanced briefly at his watch, pausing for a second to consider how much time he had to spare before returning to keep up with his full time job. “Tell me more about this… social media thing.”

*

“If you are going to ask a question, please be specific.” Mary chided over her glass of wine, not that she was going to resist the opportunity to talk about the whole ridiculous enterprise. It was not entirely her idea - but she had seen her opening to make it massive. All it took was dumping one beta male at Harvard to springboard the fad into a movement. It had cost her a very nice face, but the sacrifice was worth it. “The users themselves create the media content. The beauty of it is because they choose whose content they see, they biologically believe they are all seeing the same things and getting the same information, but they’re not.” She grinned. “They are dividing up the world between factions, completely and willingly.”

[prentisstownrp]

Mary Poppins

Mary Poppins • 25 • Chaos Demon • Olivia Cooke

Once upon a time, Mary met a child. Oh, she had known about children. You could not be alive for the centuries she already had and not known about children, but they had not made much of a splash. This day, though, in the midst of ancient Roman streets, she had heard a child scream with joy, had them race by her feet with a harried mother at their tail. The madness of the scene, the pure chaotic energy it generated, surged up. She felt more alive than she had in hundreds of meaningless years. The change was slow. Mary went back to her old ways, but the work she put in to creating chaos and the life she got out of it never matched that one moment of natural activity the small child brought about. Less and less did the demon cause trouble, finding the children of the area and whisking them off on adventures that they called magic. She told the other demons, brought them along. Bert was the first to come to her side, to see her vision in all of its glory – a pure chaotic world built off of what came naturally to children… but first, something must be done about these pesky adults and their furious stomping out of the beautiful madness of children.

She worked as a teacher, a governess, her aim always to push the parents to embrace the chaos and not dampen it down. At moments, the fight seemed lost. The Industrial Revolution and its exploitation of the children was the first time in a millennia she was forced into her old habits in order to survive – and the first she noticed how her ire had shifted. They were not just killing her beautiful chaos – but destroying the children. When she had deemed herself their protector, as well, she was not sure, but she embraced it. That Mary might have wrought death and destruction to survive but only to those who dared to take advantage of the children that needed them. Those days are long past now. It might have taken a few revolutions and wars, but every time a parent declares, kids will be kids, and lets their children keep on with whatever mayhem they are up to, Mary knows she has won. Her beautiful world of pure chaos is forever only a ridiculous Tik Tok challenge away.

Mary is: deceitful to those not close to her, vain, fickle, mischievous, curious, playful, loving, stern 

Bert Alfred: Mary’s partner and closest confidante. When she first started to realize the potential in children, Bert was the first demon to sign up. Their relationship goes back to the dawn of their existence, though. She trusts him implicitly and he is the first she calls when she needs back up. 

Jack Lighter: Mary is not in the habit of making new demons - but she cannot say the same for Bert. His creation might have been met with a, tsk, but he has proven to be a worthy member of her inner circle. 

Idris/Silas: Mary has ventured a long line between the extremes of her personality thanks to the two demons. Her deepest betrayal at Idris’ hands, however, led her to his other half and all the wonders of a life filled with light.

Mary Poppins is UNAVAILABLE

[the-mist-coming-in]

latenghtdevil·:

- 

Silas physically stiffened, not caught off guard by her swift approach, but because she reached out to gently wipe his face of blood. His jaw set tightly, pitying himself for how much he had been craving touch. He locked eyes with her, temporarily distracted as he searched her heart through her dark pupils. She quickly uncovered his poor attempt at pretending to be his cold, stoic counterpart, but his stare did not waver.

“So he’s done an excellent job at hiding me this century, hasn’t he?” Silas said with a sigh in his voice like a disappointed brother, “I’m the only thing standing in the way of Idris devouring your heart right now. My name is Silas. I’m sorry for intruding, but I had to step in to stop him. You think he’s on your side, but he’s not.”

He starred at her again while he let his last statement simmer, catching what he was looking for in the storm of her eyes. “I look at you and I don’t know where you begin and he ends. I can tell you right now with utmost certainty where your differences lie. Idris has no intention of sparing children in his exploits.”

*

“You lie.” Mary’s voice was not one that wavered. She had full confidence in herself and thus full confidence in her decisions and thoughts - but now, it dipped.

The children did not play with her now. When she tried, they ran in fear. They cried when she knelt to speak. They held on tight to their mother’s dresses and there was no consolation until they were far out of Mary’s presence. She had been her most powerful, but with only blood and fear to sustain, was now weak. Idris gave of himself to sustain her. He swore he would not let her perish until the world was put right. The children were only reacting to the changes in the order but would come around.

Mary never questioned - she shamed herself for doubting him even now. But this being who wore Idris’ skin and used Idris’ voice - who was he, why was he hidden, and what reason did he have to lie now? Silas was only a name, a random collection of letters, without a person behind it.

Her hand dropped from his face, eyes staring back into his a moment longer still before she ripped them away. “Why would he do that? Without the children, none of this works.” She questioned him as she walked, moving up to the mural that graced the castle wall. Her eyes darted. Chipped, cracked, but it should work - she was in no condition to pull anyone in with her though. Still, the world jumbled up around her and control of it all slipped from her fingers. She thought she might go mad if she could not reclaim it. “Come with me.” She glanced back Silas’ direction, raising her hand so the wall grew hazy around it. “I will not try to hurt you - not as long as you wear his body - but I need answers and this is not a safe space for them.”

[the-mist-coming-in]

latenghtdevil·:

-

One deep breath at a time - and a few ancient verses on repeat.

That would be enough to keep him down through the night - as long as nothing distracted the Silas. Fortunately, he had plenty of practice. Meditation was as cleansing and helpful to primordial beings as it was for mortals. 

Another one was ready. Corruption spread throughout her like a tangled weed covered in thorns. The allure of Idris’s power and demanding presence had caught another in his web of lies and manipulation. And this one, well… She was powerful. Silas had already been weighed down, his light dampened, with the evil Idris had sparked up within her. If he allowed him to devour her heart, it would give his worse half an edge he couldn’t power through with ancient verses and deep breathing.

Silas paced through the night. His focus on keeping Idris swallowed, holding onto control over the devil thrashing to be released above his neck and behind his blue eyes. He flinched once or twice, taking a blow internally that manifested in a cut on his cheek.

The voice of the woman he was trying to protect came unexpectedly, making him stop in his tracks and flinch again. His vocalized verses went silent, but resumed in his head. Little did she know that her doom would be upon her if he so much as skipped a beat. 

Deep breaths.

“Mary,” he began softly, aware of her name from sources and selectively feigning to be Idris during the day, ”It’s not too late.You can stop this. If you feel it in your bones that this is wrong, I beg for you to run from me and never look back. It’s far too late for me,” - Idris - Silas meant, ”but it’s not too late for you.”

“My influence will only lead to your despair,” His eyes closed, lips pulled taut into a thin line, his hand reflexively curling into a fist while repeating the verse in his head again. 

*

“Let me be very clear - I never run.”

Mary stepped around the small corner that separated her from the voice... her ears listened intently to words that were so very wrong. Perhaps she should have ran - but she never could resist a nice mystery. Her eyes scanned quickly, his form slouched, tired, bruised ---

The body was his, the voice was his, but this battered man was no Idris. Swift feet crossed the room. A fresh cut sent a slow stream of blood down his cheek and she wiped it gently away. Tactile memories flooded and Mary’s chest heaved in rage.

The transition had been slow, Idris situating himself into the middle of her life. He had proven over and over she needed no other ally than he, that her dreams were never more near than when he was with her. Together he had showed her the path with he as her biggest cheerleader. Any defiance was pressed down; the two of them at first, but he had let her take over, and danced with her in the flames of her victories. 

They had taken on the world hand in hand, bringing it to its knees in front of her. 

Now this imposter tried to drive a stake deep into that love. Mary had been warned. Not everyone would understand their ways, would try to stop them - remember what she could do, what they could do...

Her hand grew hard on his chin. “Who are you and where is Idris?”

[the-mist-coming-in]

Quiet feet landed on dark, cobbled streets. The only light came from windows, soft glows from fires that faded into nothing but night by the time it reached Mary’s path. The wind seemed to move with every step so that the hem of her dress never dragged the dusty ground. Tall, elegant, but her nails remained tinged red with blood from her day’s events.

The castle lay at the edge of the village and she picked up her pace in a rush to reach its inhabitant. A wave of her hand and the lock flew free. “Idris.” She called calmly. “Idris, dear.” Her hand searched a ledge for the light, striking it to use the flame for the torches that lined the wall. “You sent a summons.”

[the-mist-coming-in]

Work In Progress

70 AD --

As Mary walks along a dusty street, a child races by, screaming and laughing joyfully, followed by his frenzied mother. She does not yet know this small moment has changed the course of her existence forever.

405 AD --

Mary travels, spreading her beliefs among the other demons and magical creatures. It is in these travels she meets Idris. He enthralled with her potential if entirely under his control and she enamored at the prospect of a powerful ally to her cause, she makes the dangerous decision to trust him.

505 AD --

Her heart nearly consumed by Idris’ darkness, her goals and plans nearly forgotten for his will, she goes to meet him only to be confronted by the tortured form of Silas and a dire warning about Idris’ fate for her. Unsure who to trust but herself, she walks off into the woods, not to be seen by any for a long while.

1800 AD --

The Industrial Revolution brings hardships Mary’s way. She takes the job of caring for an orphanage, but it becomes clear to even inspire them, to fuel any of the chaos she requires to survive, she must get her hands dirty. She recruits Bert’s help and they ravage the city of London by night. Buildings are burned. A child who loses their finger, their boss their hand. Those sent up into the chimneys are rescued, those who sent them up lodged in without hope of rescue, so that the demons feed off their anguished screams. 

1856 AD --

Something has to change. Mary feels stagnant. After so many years of surviving without causing any direct damage, she dislikes the feeling of blood on her hands. She’s drowning in the pain and suffering of the children. She backs away. She has grown too close, too protective. The children were meant as a means to an end and yet consume her. Europe is now in a state of near constant failed revolution. Violent uprisings lead to more violent actions by the armies. She believes there is a better way. Picking a group of fledgling revolutionaries to support, she sets her sights on Russia.

1910 AD --

After Czar Alexander’s assassination puts a damper on revolutionary activity, and with conditions better in the West, Mary makes a quick trip back to England, taking a nanny job that should only last a few days and reconnecting with Bert to top off her energy and spirit for a final push.

July 16, 1918 --

It was meant as her playground, and it was, until the evening Idris arrived. Perhaps meant as revenge for her betrayal, when he showed up in Russia, her fun ended in a battle between them for Russian lives. She and Silas would plan during the day, but the revolutionaries met at night. They told them to teach the people, that they will rise up on their own. Idris taught violence, darkness, corrupting the hearts of the men already so close to the edge. When she and Silas finally won, Mary wanted to celebrate. She urged Silas to stay up with her. They could fight Idris off for one night together. Her error cost more than either of them ever wanted to pay. Idris slaughtered the whole Romanov family, children included. Convinced that it was not safe to be around Mary, Silas takes them far away.

1936 --

Mary would never had said any good came out of industrialization, not after all it put her through, but as the parents worked, and the governments said the children should not, the tight hold kept on them was released. Free time was the new normal and she happily filled that space. There were still those against the children’s frivolity but not for long once Mary had her way.

[jocdaily]

Jack O’Connell and Olivia Cooke in Little Fish ( 2021 )

[starlets]

Olivia Cooke