#fandom: penny dreadful

[ocpotluck]

Happy Halloween @eddysocs [P2]

[hazeldragonblossoms]

thinking abt this Always. btw.

[anxiously-sidequesting]

so im too physically ill right now to post the full analysis of ambrose and his weird hangup with the death school rn but in the meantime can we talk about how necromancers are just doomed by the narrative

[theteapotofdoom]

You know, with the way that this website goes crazy for dark academia, Dracula Daily, Hannibal, and Interview With The Vampire … I really thought we were gonna hit a Penny Dreadful (2014) renaissance era … all the vibes are reunited you would all go crazy for this …

[nellarw95]

Happy Heavenly Birthday Helen 🎂💔

Helen Elizabeth McCrory 🤍

August 17,1968 - April 16,2021🙏🏻

We Miss You So Much 🕊️♾️

Buon Compleanno in Paradiso 🎂💔

17 Agosto 1968 - 16 Aprile 2021🙏🏻

Ci Manchi Moltissimo 🕊️♾️

[oldestenemy]

There is a long quiet stretch after Azteca where nobody asks the wizard to do anything.

And they don’t seek anything out.

They spend a lot of time lying in front of the memorial to the Drake’s in their castle. Watching the sky, and watching some of their pets circle the giant cyclops statue upon which this castle is built. The billowing echo of the stone breathing.

Perhaps today, things would feel better. They might seek out movement. Progress.

“Shut up.” They are alone and do not bother curbing the instinct to verbally kick back at Raven’s voice as it lilts through their consciousness. Pulling at their limbs as she tries to move them to action.

They aren’t ready to go back.

They had even tried jumping to Earth about a month back. Broken down sobbing on their parents who seemed at a loss for where those tears were coming from. It was that confusion and the oh so obvious empty place where the song of creation could normally be heard that drives them back to the spiral.

They don’t belong on Earth anymore.

They should stop fooling themself into thinking the next time will be any different…

“This is their castle isn’t it?”

“One of ‘em.”

Voices are floating to their ears from the little hill where their spiral door sits and the wizard bolts upright just as two figures round the corner.

“There they are!”

It’s Malorn, and Penny—who appears to be too busy staring up at the massive cyclops statue—who come down across the lawn. “Is that—real?” Right. Her allergy. Actually, the wizard wasn’t sure if that cyclops would set it off. Sure it was technically stone, but it still breathed, still shifted from time to time as though it was settling the weight of the castle. Huh.

Something for later.

“How did you get in here?” the wizard asks, watching the pair of them with empty eyes. “Nobody can get in here without my permission.”

“I convinced Myrella to let us in through one of her temporary doors.” Malorn says, looking a little sheepish. “Nobody has seen you in weeks—we were—”

“—Everyone has been so worried about you!” Penny cuts in “The professors won’t tell any of us what’s been going on, or why you’re never around anymore, or—”

She stops as the wizard groans and falls back against the grass. “I’m fine.” they say “I just wanted to be alone.” It’s a lie. They want so desperately to be seen. Nobody here ever sees them as anything more than their accomplishments. Nobody here even really knows their name.

“Why did you need the Dragonspyre key?”

“I wanted to go back in time.” Does it really matter, keeping any of it secret? Would it really hurt if they hadn’t experienced the horror of it all? Nobody else went running off like the wizard did at the slightest tick of disaster. Sure they all had their duties and troubles around here—but Wizard City was never truly threatening even to normal students. How could it be? “They key is over there—” the wizard points vaguely to the memorial for Malistaire “—I don’t need it now.”

They wonder if their voice really sounds as hollow as it does inside their head.

When it becomes evident that their death student housebreakers are not going to be leaving, they resign to deflecting some more.

“How are you both doing? Is Dworgyn teaching well? Do the new—” the wizard pauses, realizing they never did go back to berate Ambrose for not sending new students straight to Nightside. “—Did you ever talk to the Headmaster, Malorn?”

Malorn had not in fact, spoken to Ambrose. He was still struggling to find time to advance his own work while running classes for younger students. Penny had heard from her parents about the Wizard’s escapade saving the Queen of Marleybone, and was still going full force on her idea of an undead reagent-based cookbook. The wizard listens near silent, offering quiet hums and barely visible nods as their classmates talk.

“We meant it when we said everyone is worried.” Malorn brings up again during a lull. He’s sitting with his back to the wizard, staring at the memorial they had made and fidgeting with the Dragonspyre key. “Even Stormgate was asking about you—Professor Drake said you were working on an independant project, and that it was very delicate, and you were not to be unnecessarily disturbed.” Malorn does his best to imitate Cyrus’ voice, slamming one fist into the opposite palm like Cyrus often did with his wand.

The wizard actually smiles a little at that. “Of course that’s what he’s been telling people.”

“Was this what you were working on?” Penny asks, gesturing to the grave.

“No—I made that years ago, after defea—after killing Malistaire.” They don’t like to say defeating in this case. It feels wrong. It feels like softening a blow that should’t be softened. Like disrespecting the whole ordeal. “Torald Wayfinder helped me with it, he’s the Master Artisan of Grizzleheim.”

“So what have you been doing?”

“Nothing.” And the truth sounds less believeable than any lie they could have told. “I failed. I lost. Nothing is straightforward anymore. I run errands for knights and kings, I negotiate peace between Zebras and Lions and Aztecosaurs and Birds, and I kill dragons, and I make sandwiches for stupid researchers, and I strike down evil until my fingers bleed and my ears are ringing and I still failed.”

A cloud passes briefly over whatever stands in for a sun in this little pocket dimension where their castle floats. The wizard tells themself it’s a coincidence, and closes their eyes to the way the shadows shift and flicker with their words. And so they miss it when Malorn and Penny share a startled but silent look of what the hell was that?

“I’m supposed to tell their story.” The wizard whispers, eyes still shut. They draw the Myth insignia in the air above them, and golden magic alights in the form of the three mystics. They open their eyes to watch as hundres of tiny meteorites obscure the display. As this happens their eyes shift from warm brown into flat and empty gold, dull and lifeless as the bright glow of the Myth magic flashes deep purple—and then blinks out. “All I can do is wait—and pretend I didn’t destroy them—until Ambrose sends me running towards the next crisis.”

The silence stretches on after those words. They’ve never really mentioned in detail, the things they see and do and endure. They don’t blame Malorn or Penny for not knowing what to say.

“I think you should come back to Dragonspyre.” Malorn says finally.

“What?” The wizard hears their voice drop low and dangerous, the same tones that followed them since Celestia. The audible echo of astral magic putting more power behind them.

“The reason I wanted to collect dirt from the Death and Fire trees there—I wanted to know if we could re-grow the rest of the trees, but I had to make sure the magic in the soil was compatible—the Academy was hit pretty hard by the Dragon Titan after all—and it is! So—” He trails off as the wizard finally sits back up.

“To what end, Malorn?” Hollow and cold and crueller than it needs to be. This is just another stupid fetch quest, another pointless bookending to a world they don’t want to touch ever again. Another reminder of everything lost. “Dragonspyre is a ruin, a torched wasteland full of ghosts and spiders and remnants of the titan army, you have to go through ridiculous trials to even get access to the academy grounds in the first place and—”

“We want to fix up the Academy.” Penny cuts in, not flinching as the wizard turns that flat golden gaze onto her. “We being Malorn, myself, and the other upperclassmen.”

“We have permission from Professor Drake—I might even say we have encouragement from him, given he didn’t immediately shoot the idea down. I’ve even done some inquiring with the ghosts there, some of the old instructors seem like they would welcome having a purpose again—”

Perhaps this is the Spiral’s way of telling you to get a move on? That destruction is not the end.

The wizard groans again and rubs at their eyes. “No, no. Be quiet.”

“If you don’t like the idea we—”

“Not you!” the wizard snaps at Malorn, and then immediately regrets it for how he flinches back. “Not— no, I’m sorry— not you.” They curl in on themself, squeezing eyes shut and digging nails into their arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

For a long moment they just sit there, hiding behind the dark of their closed eyes.

When did they get so angry?

This isn’t who they should be snapping at, no there were two special reservations for that place, split between an old man and an older deity.

The wizard takes a slow breath, in, hold, out…

“Okay.” They say, finally opening their eyes again, faded back from gold to brown. “Okay, I’m sorry, what can I do to help?”

Maybe a fetch quest is what they need right now.

Maybe a distraction is better than nothing at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Another little piece of my ongoing wizard101 series.

You can read the rest here <3

[ward-against-blight]

This might be common knowledge and I’m just late to the party but I just found out in one of my college lit classes why Penny is named that.

Penny dreadfuls were short 19th century British pulp fiction, usually horror stories, bound in cheap paper and sold for a penny, thus the name. Which is why Penny being a necromancer from Marleybone makes sense.

Fun fact, Sweeney Todd was originally a penny dreadful! The story was called String of Pearls: A Romance.

[malorn-ashthorns-mistress]

Quickie doodle of my bbygirl I love u penny

Poor girl allergic to cyclops lol

[findyourrp]

Hello✌️ I'm a 30 year old female roleplayer from the UK, looking for rp partners! NSFW themes are welcome but not necessary! If things happen that way with characters then cool, but much rather it happen organically! I'm looking for fandomless rp's with inspiration pulled from things such as: The Walking Dead, House of the Dragon, Skyrim, Game of Thrones, Dragonage, Bridgerton, Penny Dreadful etc. I'm mostly into things based in fantasy realms, historical times and/or apocolypse settings.

.

[hazeldragonblossoms]

Bone Collector

aand we’re back to fics! this one’s on the shorter side, but i think it’s cute :3 necromancers would absolutely have macabre hobbies like this i Know It

warning for referenced pet death u.u

“What’s this one, then?”

Penny looks where Dworgyn is pointing. “Oh! That’s the skull of the cat we had when I was a girl, Minnie.”

“Why did you keep it?”

“To remember her by. The rest of her is back in Marleybone, I’m afraid… Maybe next year I’ll bring her whole skeleton, and I can introduce you!”

Dworgyn chuckles. “Sounds wonderful, Miss Dreadful.” He looks over the assortment of bones again, all spread out over the desk. He picks one up carefully. “And this one?”

“That is the stapes bone of a dragon.”

“It’s as long as my head is tall.” He holds it up for emphasis. “And this goes in an ear?”

“Well, yes, but that’s because it’s from a dragon. Mammals have three inner ear bones, but reptiles only have one.”

“Still. It’s giant.”

“No, it’s from a dragon.”

Dworgyn lightly smacks Penny’s forearm, just with the tips of his fingers. “You know that’s not what I meant,” he says as she laughs.

[saintmelangell]

still mad penny dreadful never gave us john clare/vanesssa ives in any meaningful capacity- who can understand the world, each other, like two people made into what they are by someone else? by two people convinced of their monstrosity?

[leftabit-leftabit]

Ahh, okay! Lets do this thang, hehe

Ten characters, ten fandoms, ten tags game…! I got tagged by these lovelies - @the-20th-century-girl @unusual-ly @i-dont-know-dude-thats-gay @moonahstone  

Humphrey Bone - BBC Ghosts

Ian - Bill 

Izzy Hands - Our Flag Means Death 

One of the Parvuli - Yonderland 

Barbara Hereward (Gilbert) - Call the Midwife 

Aziraphale - Good Omens 

Hans - Frozen 

Caliban/John Clare - Penny Dreadful 

Victor Van Dort - Corpse Bride 

Brad Majors - The Rocky Horror Picture Show 

I tag... @superfast-jellybitch @tonystarksfabulousass @toomanyfandomsneverenoughtime @haventacluewhatimdoing @silverfox-hunter @buried---secrets  @holeinawall @walkingcontradiction42 @thespacebetweenmoments @ensign-ancic

(Sorry if you have already been tagged/done this) No pressure, Ghosties! Honestly didn’t know who to tag. 

[unicornwithachainsaw83]

No drug could ever compare to making a theory about a character and it turns out to be right. I’m still on that high!

[oldestenemy]

They suggest relocating to another castle, one not so crowded with their pets as the one dedicated to the school of Myth. It crawls with every cyclops, minotaur, harpy, unicorn, and automaton they’ve ever acquired over the years. Which is many. Very, very many. There are other reasons—namely not wanting too many questions about the memorial for the man they killed—but they manage to convince Malorn and Penny that the Watchtower Hall is better suited as a base of operations.

Fitting really.

A Thane’s hall seems to make this more official.

“Did you really build this place yourself?” The wizard doesn’t react to the obvious disbelief in Nolan Stormgate’s voice. They are used to his mightier-than-thou attitude, and are not in the mood to humor him right now— or ever for that matter.

Just about every upperclassman the wizard had ever encountered was now filed into the central room of hall. From Ceren and Regina all the way down to Mindy and Marla, even Boris Tallstaff—who the wizard was pretty sure just functioned as the assisstant librarian rather than a student nowadays. Some of these people they had barely spoken more than two words to in years. Some—like Mindy, they had argued with more recently than anything else.

The young wizard tries not to pay attention to the looks their classmates give them.

Tries being the operative word here.

They take a breath, trying to pause for a moment on each face. To remember what they had felt like upon each first meeting.

These were friends. More or less.

“Malorn tells me you’re all in on this idea to repair and reinstate the Dragonspyre Academy of Magic.” The wizard addresses their “classmates” from the head of the longest table they had found to cram into the room. Trying hard not to feel like a eyeball in a jar to be studied. “Why?”

And there is silence.

It stretches and drags and the shadows cast by all the fire and lamplight seem to grow with it as the wizard feels their tenuous grip on this distraction slipping. A seeping cold, very unlike the sharpness of Ice, starts to permeate the room.

The wizard closes their eyes.

“I want to see where the Drake’s learned magic.” Duncan Grimwater’s answer is unsurprising—but it shatters the growing wall of silence, and warmth returns to the room with it. Other students nod in agreement with him, primarily the other Spiritual School’s students. “They transferred to Ravenwood, sure—but that isn’t where they started, it’s not where their magic began.”

The wizard can’t help but think that might be playing a part in Cyrus not shooting the idea immediately down. “And the rest of you?”

“I want to see a baby battledrake!” Artur Gryphonbane throws out. “They used to have different variations in color and skill—kinda like the Manders do on Krokotopia—”

The wizard opens their mouth to tell him that unfortunately there are no baby battledrakes—most of them were wiped out during the war and even the one they had rode up to the great spyre was far from a baby at this point—but Penny gets there first.

“I contacted the Marleybone Royal Museum and—after having my parents pull some strings—got them to agree to leave some of their old fossilized drake eggs in my care—Ceren and Sabrina are pretty sure that with enough life magic they can be reconstituted!”

…What?

The wizard looks questioningly over to Ceren as he’s closer to their end of the table. He just flashes a wide smile.

They feel dizzy and lightheaded.

Can that really be done?

“I want to help foster a new generation of magical trees.” Sabrina Greenstar supplies, “Malorn and I have been consulting with Farley and his brothers on how best to get them to spring up from the seedlings we’ll collect in Ravenwood.”

The answers keep coming.

Regina Flametalon wants to study the architechture of the old academy and try to reconstruct it in a way that would evoke a new Dragonspyre, a reborn one instead of just a rebuilt one. Marla Stinger wants to research all the old legends about great warriors, so does Nolan. Susie Gryphonbane wants to see how storm magic differs in a place so influenced by the Dragon Titan. Mindy wants to marry the Ravenwood schoolings with some of the Pigswick ones and create a hybrid academy of sorts—the wizard is not particularly sure how that will go down.

“See?” Penny says, smiling big and bright as she pulls their attention from the rest of the table. “We have plenty of reasons, plenty of backup, and plenty of enthusiasm! It’s going to be spectacular.”

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe, just this once, something can come out of this.

Something that feels like renewal.

Something that feels like good.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A part that isn’t overtly steeped in trauma?

Wow a miracle.

Read the rest here 💚

[can-they-assemble-ikea-furniture]

Assume they have access to ikea furniture