#cultist marvin hc

[astudyingreer]

Marvin The Magnificent’s Psychic Services on 14th

Warnings: cult/supernatural themes.

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Chase walked up to the door, and immediately felt like leaving.

True, he wasn’t one for believing in the supernatural. Well, he hadn’t used to be anyway. But the grimy psychic’s office he was standing in front of, with the flickering neon open sign and peeling advertisements for palm readings stuck to the window was a little outside of his comfort zone. The place smelled like incense and weed, and from the outside it looked like a haunted gas station. Marvin the Magnificent’s Psychic Services.

He tried the handle.

It was locked--which he hadn’t expected--but he could barely think of another idea before it was opened from the inside. Thrown open, really, and Chase blinked to take in the sight before him.

The psychic--Chase assumed--was a six foot bored-looking man with long brown hair and deep circles under his eyes. He wore a half buttoned dress shirt and sweatpants, all under a large black duster with more pockets than he could count. Tattoos of skulls, pentagrams, words that Chase didn’t understand, etc crawled from under his shirt up his neck. Jewelry hung from every limb, and Chase peeked a stained tarot card deck tucked into his breast pocket.

“You’re Chase Brody?” he asked with a tight smile.

“How--who are you supposed to be, Hozier?”

“Oh boy, a real live comedian! At my humble psychic office!” The man stepped aside to let Chase enter and he did--he wasn’t really sure why.

“I’m Marvin the Magnificent,” he introduced with about as much interest as someone taking a McDonalds order, and walked through the grubby waiting room toward a narrow hallway. Chase followed, his eyes flickering to dusty magazines, to the payphone on the hallway wall with all the wires ripped out, and then to the bathroom signs at the end of hallway with the Male/Female signs scribbled out and replaced with SHIT HERE in black marker. The whole place was dimly lit like a Supernatural season 1 episode.

The back room was about what Chase expected: a table at the center of the room with two chairs, and all four walls stacked high with shelves of spooky and occult objects. Dolls, shrines, incense burners, all surrounded by lit candles that flickered softly in the darkened room. The whole place had a vibe that Chase didn’t like at all, but he sat down anyway.

Marvin sat down across from him, smiling again as he scooted his chair up and folded his hands. Chase noticed the way that Marvin’s eyes seemed to light up like highway reflectors when they shifted in the dark light, almost like a cat’s. He was probably just seeing things.

“So. ‘Brody.’ Is that a family name?” the psychic started, taking out his tarot cards from his pocket and shuffling them absentmindedly. Chase noticed he was wearing fingerless gloves with eyes stitched into the palms. Those, of course, also looked ancient as hell.

“What?” Chase asked, still a little disoriented. “Aren’t all last names family names?”

“You got me there.” Marvin reached out, snapping his fingers over an unlit candle on the table. Chase watched as a small spark ignited it instantly, flashing blue for a faint second before burning down to a dull orange.

Wow. Okay, so it was going to be like that.

“Listen, I don’t really, um...” Chase shifted uncomfortably, looking around the room. “I’m still not sure I buy into this stuff... yet... I kind of just have this problem with a friend that I need some advice on.”

"Uh-huh,” Marvin mused, nodded slightly as he splayed out his tarot cards on the table. As Chase looked closer at them he noticed the stains on the edges weren’t dirt like he originally thought. They were definitely darker, and glinted scarlet-purple in the candlelight.

“Everyone has nightmares,” he continued, almost to himself, “but you don’t give a shit about yourself. That’s not very healthy.”

Chase’s eyes widened for just a moment as he registered the psychic’s words. “Excuse... what? I didn’t tell you I had nightmares.”

Marvin put a finger to his temple, eyebrows raising dramatically and mouth dropping to an O shape. “Or did you...?”

“Okay. Okay, well... yeah, I’m having nightmares. But they’re about my friend, because he’s been experiencing some stuff that I think might be like...” Chase shifted again. He had a weird feeling in his stomach. “Demonic possession, or something. I don’t know.”

Marvin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Is that it? Demons are cucks, dude. They’re all cucks. Tell your friend to grow a pair and burn some sage.”

Chase chuckled nervously, fingers tapping on his leg just a little. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly with my friend.”

“Okay, well, what makes you think it’s a demon?” Marvin prodded. He was leaning forward now, his hands still automatically shuffling his cards with perfect muscle memory.

The question caught Chase off-guard just a little, and he shrugged. “Uh... well. He’s been, um, he’s been talking about nightmares and voices in his head. And then he... really hurt himself. Badly. Tried to, um...”

His voice broke a little at the end but Marvin seemed to get the point, nodding pensively as he ran his teeth over his lower lip. Then, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he closed his eyes tight for a moment and began to mumble to himself. The candle in the middle of the room turned blue in an instant, burning taller in response. Cool.

Chase watched for about twenty seconds, eyebrows knitting in confusion, and was just about to ask what the fuck he was doing before his eyes opened again.

“Was he talking about circles?” Marvin asked suddenly.

“What?”

“The demon.”

“Oh. Uh... I mean, I’ve never talked to the demon,” Chase explained. “That’s my friend’s shit. He did mention something about hearing voices talking about like, time loops and shit?”

Wow, even saying it out loud seemed crazy. Chase felt a sudden burst of exhaustion and he ran his hands over his face with a long sigh. “I don’t know, dude. Part of me thinks that he needs help, you know? Like a doctor or something. He seems really stressed lately, but I just like, I know he isn’t crazy. He’s not crazy.”

“No, he’s not.” The look in Marvin’s sharp eyes had shifted dramatically--he seemed almost excited, but that couldn’t be right. “I’d like to talk to your friend.”

“He’s actually in a coma right now.”

“Not a problem.”

A short burst of laughter escaped Chase without thinking and he stood, shaking his head. “Okay, bro, I don’t really--I’m sorry, is this a pentagram drawn on the floor?”

Marvin glanced down, shrugging his shoulders a little. Halfheartedly he reached out to adjust the tablecloth as if to hide more of the pentagram painted onto the carpet beneath them. “Yeah that was--I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Okay, well, I don’t think it’s a good idea. No offense but I don’t really like, believe in a lot of this stuff.”

Marvin stood too, tucking his tarot cards back into the breast pocket of his duster. “You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t. You’ve run out of options. And also Karma is finally coming around.”

“What?”

Marvin stepped forward, gesturing vaguely as his eyes widened. “I’ve been hunting this demon thing you’re talking about. It’s really important that I go in there and get rid of him. I won’t even charge you, dude.”

Chase looked him up and down, uneasiness growing. “What are you going to do? Like, a ritual or...”

“Jack won’t feel a thing, I promise,” Marvin told him. His flippant attitude from before had almost completely vanished--there was actually a hint of real desperation. Frustration, almost. “But I can help him. Or at least start to.”

Chase stepped back without thinking. His heart skipped a beat. “How did you know his name was Jack?” he murmured. “Who are you?”

Marvin’s eyes shifted in the low candlelight as they narrowed. He suddenly seemed much more imposing than before, like there was more to his form just out of sight. It was a weird feeling.

“Do you want me to help him or not?” Marvin asked. “That’s why you came here.”

Chase hesitated. The psychic was right. He was out of options. Maybe it was the vibe of the place, or the tone of Marvin’s voice, but somehow he felt completely confident with what he said next.

“Okay. You can come tomorrow.”

[astudyingreer]

I have this HC of Marvin as a full-blown cultist covered in tattoos wearing a giant black duster and his creepy mask, covered in jewelry and shuffling a tarot card deck in his hand.... and just underneath his mask you can see a smug look on his face as he walks past someone on the street and they burst into flames behind him, all in slo-mo as Not About You by Haiku Hands plays 

[astudyingreer]

Cultist Marvin HC that is Very Important(Tm):

His enchanted tarot card deck isn’t used for telling the future. They’re his weapons--he throws them like ninja stars, and he can throw them into and out of any dimension at will, making them effective toward humans and demons alike. They are razor sharp when used and can be manipulated in battle through spells