Tag: marceline

theitalianscribe:

So, I have a few more ideas for Marcy. For instance, even before she met Alcor, she had an interest in the supernatural and anything her father disapproved of, especially demons. She reads much of the lore on demons and has a strong fascination with Alcor. After she meets Alcor, she remembers the rumors that Alcor trades ice cream for homework help and decides to try that. She secretly starts her own branch of The Cult of Dipping Sauce, where she meets a group of people that feel the same way about the school’s treatment of supernatural lessons. (Maybe they end up being like DA in Harry Potter!) I was thinking that she would take some form of martial arts for defense. Then, when she finally graduates/is kicked out of school, she moves to a new town and gets a job as a martial arts instructor. (I was also thinking she gets her hair cut much shorter and dyes it red or something in an act of rebellion.) Over the years, she develops her own fighting style that utilizes magic as a speed boost and adds fire to punches. She opens her own dojo/studio where everyone is welcome. She teaches people from all races, species, gender, origin, etc. The large range of customers earns her a surprisingly steady living. She also takes in the Mizar mantel very willingly. (I’m actually worried about how easily I can picture Marcy getting psyched about cult bashing.) Since she’s a reincarnation of Mabel, I wanted to give her some artistic quality. However, a nonchalance towards demon (brother) things and chaotic nature would probably be better.

Here’s a link to Siri Catriona and the first of her epic Marceline fics: http://siri-catriona.tumblr.com/post/113480726613/a-school-of-higher-learning-part-1

A School of Higher Learning (Part 3)

siri-catriona:

“…
What?”

Her
father looked confused. “It’s Monday, Marceline. Did you forget?”

“No
– I mean, I thought – you didn’t… hear?”

“Hear
what?”

“About
the cult, and – and the attempted sacrifice and the demon at the
school?”

“…
Marceline, what are you talking about? Is this…” He sighed.
“Look, I know you don’t like this school, but investing your time
in demons -”

“I’m
not!”

“I
got a call from one of your teachers yesterday, Marceline. About
demons.”

She
held in an angry snarl. “Oh, what, now you all think I’m possessed
or something? I have always
been this way, dad! I’ve always liked
the people you’re scared of, I’ve always
hated how you treat my friends, and I have always
had an interest in -”

“In
demons!” He frowned. “I understand! But I will not allow my
little girl to – to go around summoning things you can’t control!
Do you want to be
cheated out of your life? Do you?”

“I’ve
never summoned anything!”

“Have
you?”

“No!”

He
sighed after a brief pause. “And every time I pray, I pray that you
never will. That’s why
I need you in this school, Marceline. I need you
to learn how dangerous these things are.”

“I
know how dangerous they are!”

“Then
you’ll know I’m in the right!” He shouted, and Marcy gasped before
she could contain it. It wasn’t often that her father shouted, being
the reserved man he is. He seemed to realize this too, and took a
step back. “You’ll continue going to this school, Marceline Haupton
Forrest. That’s final.”

She
choked on her anger, unable to force out another word, and slowly
marched back to her room, glaring all the time.

After
all, it was Monday. School started soon.

–

There
wasn’t a word of it.

She
caught Corey in the hall, looking as apprehensive as last night as
she woke up. He sagged in relief as she walked up to him, obviously
overjoyed that the demon– that Alcor did actually get her home
safe.

“No
one’s talking about it.” He whispered over the daily gossip. “It’s
like nothing happened!”

“It
happened.” She insisted, thinking of summoning circles and bat
wings. “I wonder if anyone found out yet?”

“The
police came last night.”

“They
did? Then why isn’t it all over the news!”

“I
don’t know! Tabitha thinks the school paid them to keep quiet.”

She
pulled up short. “Tabitha?”

“My
sister.” He sighed, and the thought made Marcy flinch. Two siblings
forced through that experience… “She was called down before us. I
thought it was for yelling at the Magical History teacher, but…”

“Guess
not. So she thinks the police have been paid off?”

“At
least the news reporters have. There’s no way this can keep quiet
forever, though. People are going to notice how many… teachers…
are missing.”

She
thought for a minute. “… How many are
missing?”

He
went silent for a moment. “… I don’t know.”

She
thought back, remembering how bloodstained the floor had been, how it
had gotten all over her as she lie in it, all over Corey as he tried
to wake her up while beating back what he believed to be a danger to
them – it reminded her of something. “Hey, why are you at school?
Shouldn’t you be at home, you know, recuperating?”

“That
demon, whoever he was, got rid of all the evidence on me before you
guys left. When the police escorted me home… my mom… didn’t…”

He
folded in on himself a little, automatically sending Marcy forward to
hug him. “Shush, it’s alright… like you said, they can’t keep
this quiet forever…”

“…
I don’t wanna find out what happens when they tell her Marcy…” He
stared straight through her. “What if she thinks I’m tainted? What
if she tries to fix me?”

She
held him closer. “Then… then you can come stay with me, okay? I
was there, I’ll believe you, I know you’re not tainted, Corey. I know
you’re not. There’s no such thing.”

“How
can you know that?”

She
laughed. “I’m the one that led a demon into my home, and I’m fine.
See?” She pushed him back a little so she could share a smile. “If
I turned out alright, so will you. Okay?”

He
took a breath. “Okay.”

Half
the teachers were out that day, replaced by substitutes for an
indefinite amount of time. Only a few students actually noticed the
change, most caught up in the new rumor floating throughout the
school – a certain little blonde boy was seen hugging, even kissing
(some say), Marceline Forrest out on the front porch.

A
football player blandly asked Marcy if she was dating a ‘scrawny
little blond midget’. Marcy nearly kicked out his teeth.

–

Marcy
came home angry. Angry enough to take her bag by the top handle and
throw it hard enough to thunk against the opposite wall, fifteen feet
away.

It
made a satisfying thunk.

And
then she was reminded of that morning.

“Ugh…”
She paced to the stairs, kicking her bag halfheartedly and plopping
down, grunting as the crick in her back that had developed over sixth
period met the stair lip, and frowned at the ceiling. “… How…?”

“I’m
guessing this is a bad time?”

She
squeaked, flinching so bad that her elbow somehow lodged itself
between the railing and the wall. “Fuck!”

She
didn’t even see the demon until she yanked her arm back to where it
should be, and then
she took stock of what or who scared her.

Oh
god, he’s doing the thing. The kicked-puppy thing.

She
sighed. “I’m not hurt, you dope, quit with the face.”

“What
face?”

“That
face! The face you’re making seriously right now – don’t stick your
tongue out at me, mister!”

“What,
like this?” Okay, that’s terrifying. Marcy watched as an organism
that looked vaguely like a tongue slithered out between the edges of
his smile and writhed in the air in front of his face.

“Yes,
like that! I know that’s not your real tongue!”

“And
what if it is?”

“Then
it’s a super creepy thing that wasn’t there before and it’s not!”

He
laughed. “Okay, it’s not my real tongue.”

“Thank
you!”

The
grin he sent her was laced with glee and sharp teeth, even reaching
to black and golden eyes while he floated around to an area above the
couch. Marcy returned the grin, bad mood forgotten in the same
all-too-easy banter that had once made her fear for her life. When he
floated to the center of the room, she followed, settling on a couch
arm.

“That
– last night…” The mood sobered. “That was real though.
Right?”

He
sighed. “That was real.”

“…
Is it gonna happen again?”

She
noticed a pulse of something in the air as the question left her
lips, but chose not to mention it. “N̮o̟͉̦̞̝̼͕t͚̗̤
̡͍i͖f͕̫͇͚̬ͅ ̣̙͞I̪̯̟̞ ̗̩̳̞̀h̡av͏̰̞̱̭͇e͏̣̥̗̣̜
͔͉̬̜̦͞a̙̭n̢̻̰͚͓̭̙y̺̟̥͜t̝͖̯̝h͙̠̫̮͉̤i̪̙̹̪̼̕n̪̪̣̲̰͟g̨
̗͖͢t͚́o̩͠ ̵̺̟͇̻s̢̟͕a̪̳̺y͍͞
̣̭a̹͓̩̖̝b͓͈͜o̷̫̥͔ųt͚̘̦̫̳͕̙͡ ̥̱͍̘̖̬͟it̞̱͜.̀”

“But
you can’t be everywhere at once!”

“Į҉
̛̀͜c̶a͠n t̴̵ŕ̴͜y͢͜͝.”

“You
will not!”

“I҉
̧c̴̛a͝n̨͢ a͘͘nd̛ ̧͢I̶̕ ͟w̛ill̀҉.”

She
sighed. “Inside voice, Dip.”

“S̸̢
h̴i
t, sorry…” He considered her for a moment.

Of
course Marcy had looked into near-death experiences – being so
interested in things concerning the Transcendence and what followed,
research rarely skirted around such things as important visions
brought in life-threatening situations. However, instead of going
into sudden clarity like she had read, everything dulled around
Marcy. It was as if time had suddenly paused to take a breather,
fading into monotone only for a second. Her eyes had just enough time
to examine a stone-still dust particle in the air, suspended and
unaffected by her breath, before time decided to dutifully resume
it’s pace.

“But
I ca͖n͈
make sure this doesn’t happen again. Wouldn’t you want that?”

She
frowned. “Why are you so concerned about me?”

He
groaned – a monstrous sound that somehow echoed in her ears and
almost made her want to roll her eyes at a demon for the second time
in twenty-four hours. “We are not talking about this.”

“We
are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“N͈̳̻̗̪̬̪o̡t̖̠.”

“Are!”

“Fin̶̷e͘͢!”
He turned on her, eyes glowing. “Y͙̜̿͋o̝̙̬̖̟͙ͩ͌̒̓ͅu̢̲̯̇̚ͅ
̡̫̤͙̠ͪ͗ͨ̍̌̾̏ẉ͔̏͞aͨͫn̙͚̣̳̊̾̎̄͋͠t͖̱̘̋̏̀
̹̺͖̠̲̉̄͊̊ͮt̪͈̘̹͖̣̰͑̊͐o̱̞̰͔ͯ
̞̬̲̻̮͡k͑͊ͩ̀n̈́ͨ̃̇͆͒͗͏̬̩͔̤o̧̝̞̩̣͕͓̗̓̎̒̏̏̾ẉ̽̎̔ͭ͋͐ͅ
t̨̖͕̲̻̭h̷̫̳ę̗̗̫̲
̵̤͎͉̭t͍̻̝͍͙́̊̋̉͆ͩ̚͢r̦̟̝̖̘͎͍ͨ̿ṳͪ̄̀̚ţ̺h̴̬̙̩̞͍̱ͭ̈?
Y̛òư͝
̵̕w̡͘á̕ǹ͝t ͏t̶̢̕ò̀ k͏n̶o̕͞w
ẁ̨̡̲͔̪̟͔̬̩̳̪͔ẖ̢̗̲͙̙̳̼̟̦͙̙̜͘͢͝ͅy̵҉͕̞̲͈̲̻̞͚̲̝̻̗̟̰̦͎̝̤̰
I̛
̶c̀͜͠a͜͞҉r̴̵e͏ a̧͟b͢҉o͘ųt k̢͢e̵͜e͏p̴̧̀i͢n͘͠g͢
y͡o͝ų҉̷ ̛a̧̕͟l͢͢iv̵̸͝e͠?
W̸̡h̀͢ý̷̴͘͟
̢҉͟I̴͘͝ ̀͝ą͡c̸͢͡t̨̀u͏̸̡͘à͜҉̕͠l͡҉̧͝l̢͢y̧̛͝͡
̷̨͢c̷̨͡҉a̡͢͝m̡͝e̵͘̕͢ ̶̕͟w̸̨h̸͘͢͟e̸n̛
̀͝y͏̢o̸͟u͟ ̀͟ć̷͜͠a҉̷͘͝l͟͏l̸̶̨̨̀e̸̡̕͏̀d̕
̴͜͏͘m̶̧̨͘è͢?”

She
tried and failed to scramble back, falling off her perch on the couch
and bracing herself instead. “But I didn’t call you! How would I?”

“Ỳ̸̴҉̨ò̧̨̕ų̷͘͟͠
̛̀c͏̵͏á̶̸̛l҉̶͘͘l̶̛͞e͟͜d͘͞͞ ̷͢͞m҉̧͞҉e̢͠
̷̴̨͢b̨́̀̀é̵͜ç̸̡̛̕a̕͡u̡͝s̸̡̛͢é̷
̶̨̧̀͜y͜͡ǫ́ų́͜ ̷͘̕a̡r̷̀̕e̡͢
ḿ̷̷̡̗̥͚͙͙̿̈̓͒͛̈ͭ̓͌̈̔ͧͮ̿͛̉̀͞i̴̸̥͉̜̬͇̱̳̙̳̟̞̎̃ͥͨͮ̃n̶ͣͣ̈́͆̆͆ͫ̾ͬ̓ͣͪ̽͑̉̎̚̚҉̠͙͎̟̰̯̪̭̜͔͇̣͕͙̲͟͞e͒̓̈̂͏͏͉̼̭̜̜̮̖̥̦̦̝̹̀͢.”
He hissed, took a breath, and steadied. “I͓͘
̼̯̰͇ͅw̨̺̜i̢̻͎̝̦l̪̺̥̦̥̱l̟͇͕͖̟̹
̖͖̟̣̼͎n̺͍͍̟̩o̮͓͓̺̺̭ͅt̖-”
Another breath. “I̶̷
m͟e̢͞a҉͜n͝҉…
I̧
͞d̸o̴n’t͞ ͟wan͘t͏ to…
Ugh, I fucked this up, didn’t I?”

Marcy
couldn’t bring herself to answer.

He
sighed again. “Miz̛͝a̧̡͜ŗ,
s̛͠p͜͝è̸̡a͢͝k.”

“What
do you mean, I’m yours?”

And
so continued and explanation Dipper knew far too well.

A School Of Higher Learning (Part 2)

siri-catriona:

“Shit, look, okay, I didn’t mean to scare you, please just move out of the way -“
She felt something warm against her. Whatever she was laying on, it was cold and wet and like stone and she was very uncomfortable, so uncomfortable, and her head hurt so much –
“Don’t look at me like – no no no, look, I’m not going to hurt her -” At this, she noticed the warmth of a smaller body pressing closer, a hand being placed on her shoulder and staying there. “I need to make sure she’s okay.”
Some part of herself huffed at the voice. Dumb. He’s being dumb, she’s perfectly fine, as always. Well, not always, but definitely this time – it takes more than one blow from a wanna-be killer to take her down.
Oh, right, she was kicked. That’s… probably why her head hurts.
One mystery solved.
“What…?” Marcy winced, cracking one eye – and yup, she could only open that eye, great – just wide enough to see a small blond head lowering closer. “Corey?”
He sighed right in her face. “Marceline? Are you alright?”
“I could have told you that if you would just let me within five feet of her.”
She almost found herself rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She groaned and, finding her wrists untied (oh right they were tied, the whole cultist thing happened, why does this surprise her?), pushed herself into a seating position.
That’s when she noticed the unhealthy amount of blood coating the concrete floor.
She had been lying in a pool of blood that was (she checked as quickly as she could, not noticing any sources of pain from anywhere other than her head) almost certainly not hers.
*Gross*.
Oh, and there was Corey, also covered in blood but alive. “We are alive, right? We didn’t die in a summoning while I wasn’t paying attention?”
Corey laughed in shock at her tone. “… Well… someone did.”
“That group won’t be bothering anyone anytime soon.” The other guy strode forward, ignoring Corey’s sudden sounds of protest. He was smiling, showing off multiple rows of shark-like teeth. “Or ever again, really.”
“You’re a demon.”
He snorted, somehow managing to sarcastically float above her head. “And you’re a human.”
She stared, noticing with a small shock that she was meeting black-and-gold eyes without a second thought, didn’t higher-level demons have some sort of natural spell for anyone that met their eyes, or was that all hocus pocus from the school? Her eyes flicked around, more out of curiosity than anything else, and discovered floofy brown hair under a seamless – floating, why was everything about him floating? – top hat, and a well-fitted suit to match.
And little bat wings.
Thankfully her tired limbs stopped her before her mind could, because for a moment she returned to five-year-old mode and just *really wanted to mess with those wings okay?*
Instead, she said “You’re Alcor the Dreambender.”
“And you’re Marcy the Girl.”
She grinned. “Well *you’re* a snarky dope!”
“And *you’re* -” He paused, smile fading into this weird look, and oh god what was she just doing, messing with an SS level demon as if they were friends, oh no, oh no. “Well, first, you’re gonna be in trouble.”
“Wait, what?” Corey spoke up again. “I thought you got rid of them all!”
“Not that kind of trouble. And don’t doubt my abilities.”
“You said you would let us go!”
“Hey, I didn’t say a single thing to you! And it’s just police troubles, calm down!”
Corey looked sick. “Police… Right, the… police. How do they -“
“I sent them a call.”
“Do you even know how to work human addresses? Or phones?”
He huffed, glaring at her, and somehow she wasn’t dead which was very gratifying. “Just because I’m not human doesn’t mean I don’t know how to talk to people.” He softened (softened, why, what – …oh yeah, she read somewhere that Alcor actually likes kids, the would explain a lot) and offered a hand from where he floated. She felt magic twist around her and was surprised to find herself distinctly Not Panicking as he gestured her into standing, and the throbbing in her head was going away, and oh god this is great she could go send a fist straight through Donald Fortuna’s miserable face with energy to spare and –
She sighed, feet meeting the ground. “Thanks… Um, should I give you something?”
Alcor shook his head. “I took enough earlier. Just don’t tell anyone that I’m handing out favors?”
She nodded.
A cult kidnapping her and at least two other students right out of the school, injuring her, and Alcor the Dreambender coating the floor with blood and then turning around and fixing her black eye ‘as a favor’.
Oh, right. “So, what do we tell the police?”
He grinned again, both only realizing she should be shocked at this when Corey gasped at the sight of his teeth. “*You* won’t be telling them anything.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going home.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you gonna escort me, at least?”
Corey suddenly launched into her arm and latched on. “Marceline, what are you doing!”
“If he wanted to kill us, he would have done it already!”
“But he’s a *demon*!”
“… Sure?” They turned to ‘the demon’, who was currently fidgeting and looking worried about an inch above ground. Some part of Marcy registered that it meant something along the lines of ‘don’t be scared of me look I can be sorta human look’ but don’t ask her how she knew.
She grinned. “Good! Corey, are you coming with us?” He shook his head violently, still latched onto her arm. She sighed. “Can you at least let go of me?”
His grip loosened. “But -“
“I know. It’s okay!”
“Is it?” Alcor interjected. “He’s right, I *am* a demon. Aren’t you worried I’m gonna eat your soul or something?”
“Nah. Let’s go!”
——————
They appeared in Marceline’s room.
Marceline herself suddenly felt the need to throw up.
Alcor flinched at the sight of her leaning over the nearest toilet and making gagging noises, and then was- right there, floating upside-down above the bowl so he could see her face. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Dumb question. What a dumb. Dippy dumb.
“What?”
“What what?”
“Did you just say ‘Dippy dumb’?”
“Did I? I don’t know…” She groaned into the bowl, spitting out what was hopefully the last bits of bile that she would have to taste on the next decade.
He floated away. “Um, I’m gonna…”
“Leave?”
“Yeah…”
“Come back tomorrow?”
He was silent.
“I want to know what happened. Tomorrow.”
“… Sure. Bye.”
He poofed out – more like a blip than a poof, judging from what she remembered of the feeling – and she was alone.
——————

Here’s part two! Maybe part three? Probably?

Inspired by this post (http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/113471570328/what-if) 

Read part one here (http://siri-catriona.tumblr.com/post/113480726613/a-school-of-higher-learning-part-1)

What If…

theitalianscribe:

There are religious anti-demon private schools. One reincarnation of Mabel is sent to such a school. Either Dipper doesn’t notice because he only caught that Mabel was reborn, or he does notice, but can’t help because they have good wards, R!Mabel will be punished for being with a demon, and he’s scared of the prejudice she’ll show toward him from her learnings. To make matters worse, she has a passion for art that the school doesn’t appreciate because she subconsciously incorporates Alcor imagery and other supernatural elements into her works (even unicorns are frowned upon). When they do meet, however, he is saving her and several classmates from being sacrificed. The sacrifice was either organized by the school in an attempt to eliminate Alcor (though this is more unlikely than ironic because what is the point of risking the lives or your pupils to destroy the thing you hate?) or was by an outsider the group looked up to. R!Mabel is more ticked off about this than scared of Alcor. Meanwhile, Alcor is awkwardly trying to make sure she’s okay while still worrying about finally having the confrontation.

“Are you okay?  Do you want me to leave, or..”

“Poop! I actually gave up drawing for this?!”

“Look, I just hate human sacrifices. Don’t hurt anyone over being saved by a demon.” Alcor looks back at the circle and twiddles his thumbs nervously. R!Mabel turns to Alcor, pausing in her rant.

After tilting her head in confusion, she laughs, “Y’know, for a demon, you’re kind of a dork.”Alcor freezes and gapes at the girl.

“Hey, could you give us directions, or are you going to lead us to some underworld to eat our souls?”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“Sure! You guys wanna come with?”  The other group members shake their heads in horrified objection. Shrugging, R!Mabel takes Alcor’s offered hand. With a blink of an eye, Alcor blips them to the dorm’s front doors.

“Oh ho ho,” R!Mabel laughs, “Mother Robinson would FLIP if she knew what just happened!”

After that, R!Mabel starts rebelling against her teachers, summoning Alcor just to hang out, and drawing everywhere.  After ripping up the drawing she was making of a certain well-dressed gentleman with butwings, her teacher finds herself calling a custodian to clean a replica of the drawing off a spot of the ceiling that the girl shouldn’t be able to reach. I might use her in a future story, so let’s just say her name is Marceline, or Marcy for short.