Back To Top
MarchingMad
A mad man with a box

home message archive theme


Source | Photographer

Source | Photographer

                                            I am

                            m a n y          things and

                                    a    

                                          { h e r o }    is

                   none     of          them


"Bereaved of light. Like darkness itself. For I am darkness itself, aren’t I?"Independant Role-Play Account for Yeston & Kopit’s Phantom 
Play-Based
AU Friendly
OC Friendly
Paragraph preference
        Inquire     About Erik     Verses 

"Bereaved of light. Like darkness itself. For I am darkness itself, aren’t I?"

Independant Role-Play Account for Yeston & Kopit’s Phantom 

  • Play-Based
  • AU Friendly
  • OC Friendly
  • Paragraph preference

        Inquire     About Erik     Verses 

pygmalionpining:

—“I won’t answer for anything! … If Erik’s secrets cease to be Erik’s secrets, IT WILL BE A BAD LOOKOUT FOR A GOODLY NUMBER OF THE HUMAN RACE! That’s all I have to tell you, and unless you are a great booby, it ought to be enough for you … except that you don’t know how to take a hint.”

independent blog for leroux/yeston+kopit phantom of the opera

open to interaction
book-based/yeston+kopit musical-based
multiverse/au/oc friendly
7+ years experience
para preference

pygmalionpining:

—“I won’t answer for anything! … If Erik’s secrets cease to be Erik’s secrets, IT WILL BE A BAD LOOKOUT FOR A GOODLY NUMBER OF THE HUMAN RACE! That’s all I have to tell you, and unless you are a great booby, it ought to be enough for you … except that you don’t know how to take a hint.”

independent blog for leroux/yeston+kopit phantom of the opera

  • open to interaction
  • book-based/yeston+kopit musical-based
  • multiverse/au/oc friendly
  • 7+ years experience
  • para preference
our-blood-is-thicker: "Little thing"

our-blood-is-thicker:

marchingthroughthetardis:

"I like your hair!" The little boy smiles up at Fiona, almost awestruck. "How did you get it that color?" 

She cannot help but laugh at the barrage of questions from the little one. That was until he mentioned the TARDIS. The giggles faded as a rather perplexed expression took hold of her features. Was this another friend of the Doctor’s? He was the only one she had heard talk of that amazing ship.

"Oh. I did not take my TARDIS there, Little One, and I certainly had lots of help. My Mother was the one to get the stars to exchange for the color. They did it because she was kind, beautiful and very pure-hearted… Course, she paid a very high price for it." Ah, this was too sad. 

"What is your name?" 

This time the boy looks around, as if she’s asked something taboo, and someone was about to come yell at them for it. “I’m called Theta. Mum says it’s from a language called Greek. Neat huh?” He smiled, bouncing back to happiness. “If your mom didn’t have a TARDIS, how did she get to the star?”

                         But to cry in front of you

                         that’s the worst thing I could do               

|| june

flyingawayonfourwings:

   More and more students were brought into the little cell he’d occupied, and Joly was becoming more and more uncomfortable with how crowded it was. And he could not get over the smell. These were hardly sanitary conditions. He tried not to touch anything or anyone, more than a little disturbed by the loud, protesting French students. When the cell was already overflowing, and he was stuck against the metal bars (he had opted against being pressed against any of the walls. Ew) he was beginning to panic a little.

   Would the Doctor find him here? The occasional enthusiastic, gesticulating elbow hit him in the arm or chest - and he wanted to get out of here this very instant. However, he doubted he could make himself heard over the mass of shouting Frenchmen. What absolute chaos. He was near crying out of sheer frustration and confusion and hopelessness when he saw him.

   The Doctor. He was right here with him, and he was in chains, too. Joly really did cry then, in spite of the stupid grin that spread across his face. And when the older man was stuffed into the same tightly packed cell as him, Joly abandoned all attempt at keeping himself neat and pushed people aside to get to him. And when he did, he pulled him right into his arms, clinging to him like a child to its mother.

                                         ”Wh-What happened? We were-… the graveyard. And then-…

That wasn’t exactly the reaction that the Doctor was expecting. He had pictured something with more, shouting. But that didn’t mean he would not return the embrace to the best of his ability. 

"Didn’t I tell you not to wander off? I know I did!" He half scolded, but he was pulling the boy close and patting his hair too much for it to sting much. "It was an angel. A weeping Angel. Didn’t you see a statue? And then-" Well, then the obvious happened, of course. They were crammed in a cell with a bunch of rowdy revolutionaries, and it was growing fuller by the minute. "Do you have any idea what’s happening?"

the-newnew-doctors-companion:

Banana ♡ on We Heart It - http://weheartit.com/entry/107593848

the-newnew-doctors-companion:

Banana ♡ on We Heart It - http://weheartit.com/entry/107593848

|| june

flyingawayonfourwings:

   No one answered him. This didn’t really surprise him. But it was a terribly lonely feeling to be abandoned in the wrong century, although this was his home town. How was the Doctor supposed to find him now? It must be summer - it was warm and God, it smelt horrible here, and people were running and screaming and- was that gunshots? Joly stood very still for a moment, listening again. More gunshots.

   What year was this? Germ theory had clearly not been invented, the boulevards were gone- it must be before the late 19th century then. Joly looked around desperately, ignoring the way he must stand out like a sore thumb with his stupid knitted sweater and skinny jeans and converse shoes. Without the TARDIS he had nothing to change into.

   If the Doctor was to find him, perhaps he should seek out a place where he’d be easy to find. So he headed towards the noise. People were running everywhere - but only, he noticed, young men. Students? Perhaps it was some sort of rebellion, God knows Paris had its shair of them. But as he turned the corner of the street where all the chaos seemed to eminate from, he was grabbed from behind.

   It was the Parisian police, judging by the uniforms. He tried to say something - anything - in his defense, but the officers did not seem interested in his protests. He had walked straight into a student rebellion, and apparently being in the streets tonight seemed to warrant an arrest in itself. The chains they put around his wrists were heavy and uncomfortable and dirty, and Joly stayed completely still in fear of accidentally scraping up his sensitive skin on the rough, rusty metal.

   The prison cell was even dirtier than the street, and smelled even worse, and once his chains were off and the door slammed shut and he was left in complete darkness, Joly simply buried his face in his hands and sighed. How the hell did this happen? He supposed explaining to these men that he was in fact not part of the rebellion was not going to work. This was ridiculous. 

The TARDIS appeared on what was usually a busy Parisian street. Today, however, it was a war zone. Police in colorful uniforms were firing at and arresting young men, all of whom were firing right back, shouting for change. This was the exact opposite of what the Doctor had hoped to find. 

He was relatively safe near the TARDIS, but Joly didn’t appear to be anywhere near it at all. Which meant he would have to go searching. He looked down at the machine in his hands, listening for some kind of ‘ding’ over the gunshots and shouting. He didn’t hear one, but when he faced left, the little spinners at the top spun faster. That had to mean something, right? He was going to take it as something, at least, and the Doctor rushed off in that direction. 

At least he would have, if a pair of those pretty police hadn’t grabbed him up. One shouted something about rebellion, which the Doctor tried to dispute, but the man wasn’t really listening anyway. He was busy clearing the streets. The Doctor was just collateral damage. 

pathologistinakittenjumper:

pathologistinakittenjumper:

Your muse wakes up next to mine, they’re both naked and with questionable marks. Send me a “✿” to see my muse’s reaction to… everything

Molly awoke and turned, surprised into full consciousness by the figure of the Doctor next to her… lacking clothes. She bit her lip in perplexity as she tried to recall what had put them here… Bruises were beginning to show on his body, and when she looked down at her own, they were there too.

"Doctor…" Molly whispered, nudging him awake. "What— how— how did we end up like this again?"

Molly nodded to the Doctor. “Certainly— um— up to standards,” she said, though her standards for ‘creepy mass hypnotism’ really hadn’t been set too high. When the Doctor spoke to Harrison again, Molly reminded herself to stand up straight and appear professional.

Harrison seemed a bit concerned by that question, but nodded. “My boss is down the hall and to the left. I believe he’s currently in a— a meeting with his superiors.” Molly frowned at that remark, trying to figure out why the otherwise confident Harrison seemed so antsy about them going to see his boss - or perhaps the people who controlled his boss.

Is he now? Well that is just perfect.” The Doctor smiled in a way that seemed far from friendly, and reached back for Molly’s hand. “Then I suppose we should get going. Best to speak to them all at once, don’t you think, Molly?” 

He pulled her towards the door, and right down the hall and to the left. He could hear voices behind the door, babbling about something important he thought, but he put his hand on the handle anyway, and turned. 


create a new version of this paste