@bruisedfuse - Tumblr Blog

whitty sighed as he walked into another alleyway. The one he lived in didn’t have much food, so he had to go searching in some other ones. But just his luck, the last one he checked had basically nothing.

He glanced around as he walked more into the alleyway, but soon stopped as he noticed something against the wall. Well, more like someone.

-@what-will-become-of-me

whitmore was just resting its eyes, glad to find someplace that is quiet for once.

then they hear the other. one eye clicks open, darting about towards the sound. smoke says nothing, too uncertain now to actually try. it's not everyday you get a chance at meeting somebody just like yourself, especially when you're.. whitty.

it is unmoving, standing their ground in silence. he does not feel threatened yet, so bass only, casually returns that stare.

Huh. Whitty had never met anyone like him before. He wasn’t even aware that he wasn't the only bomb humanoid. Either way, he didn't want to be rude.

“Hey, um, sorry if I’m bothering you. I didn’t know anyone was going to be here. I’m just looking for something to eat...”

"whatever man, is cool."

whitty rolls its one open eye, then goes back to what bass was already doing. it shrugs, voice faintly groggy as its vision is shrouded in darkness again, eye shut.

".... nah, you too late. they picked clean."

whatever little was leftover by raccoons and such, whitmore'd most likely called dibs on when he got here first anyways.

Whitty sighed.

“Oh. Ok then...”

He thought about just moving on, but considering that another bomb humanoid was in front of him, he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to at least try to talk to them.

“Hey... do you mind if I sit here with you for a bit? I’ll give you your space. And maybe we could talk too? If you want to, that is...”

"uh.. well, i spose im nobody to stop ya."

unbothered by sharing his enthusiasm.. smoke merely looks out and over them, getting a feel for the time, based on the colors of the sky seeping into this alley.

"jus dont get no hopes up. im not super interestin to talk to, 'case it wasn clear."

whitty kind of wants to grab a smoke to calm its nerves, but the idea of sharing? better not to risk it. last person who got to see them with a lit cigar had to be an updike with a few bolts lost in the brain. or maybe just a really gnarly stick in his ass. didn't stay long enough to find out.

Whitty walked over and sat down against the wall.

“Thanks. And don’t worry, I’m not that interesting to talk to either...”

"... mm...."

expression bunching upward curiosly, it eyes the other from where he stands at.

"... look, if yous expectin me to come up wi somethin to talk bout jus ta prove ya wrong, youre gon wait a long ass while."

no disrespect intended. whitty just gets a bit salty like that whenever disturbed.

He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something to talk about. He didn’t want to ask something serious or too personal. Once he came up with something, he looked at whitty.

“So... got anything that you like to do?”

#rb.#ic.#what will become of me

"yea. s called nothin. that, and i guess i used to do graffiti, goin way back. dont got the crap fo it anymo nowaday, tho."

... well. it IS common courtesy to return such a question.

"an, uh. whaddabout you? got any, uhh, hobbies? stuff youre into, wherever you are from?"

last bit mostly pointing at the fact, he's had prior experience with doubles. AUs, flipped timelines, existentialism and so.

whitty sighed as he walked into another alleyway. The one he lived in didn’t have much food, so he had to go searching in some other ones. But just his luck, the last one he checked had basically nothing.

He glanced around as he walked more into the alleyway, but soon stopped as he noticed something against the wall. Well, more like someone.

-@what-will-become-of-me

whitmore was just resting its eyes, glad to find someplace that is quiet for once.

then they hear the other. one eye clicks open, darting about towards the sound. smoke says nothing, too uncertain now to actually try. it's not everyday you get a chance at meeting somebody just like yourself, especially when you're.. whitty.

it is unmoving, standing their ground in silence. he does not feel threatened yet, so bass only, casually returns that stare.

Huh. Whitty had never met anyone like him before. He wasn’t even aware that he wasn't the only bomb humanoid. Either way, he didn't want to be rude.

“Hey, um, sorry if I’m bothering you. I didn’t know anyone was going to be here. I’m just looking for something to eat...”

"whatever man, is cool."

whitty rolls its one open eye, then goes back to what bass was already doing. it shrugs, voice faintly groggy as its vision is shrouded in darkness again, eye shut.

".... nah, you too late. they picked clean."

whatever little was leftover by raccoons and such, whitmore'd most likely called dibs on when he got here first anyways.

Whitty sighed.

“Oh. Ok then...”

He thought about just moving on, but considering that another bomb humanoid was in front of him, he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to at least try to talk to them.

“Hey... do you mind if I sit here with you for a bit? I’ll give you your space. And maybe we could talk too? If you want to, that is...”

"uh.. well, i spose im nobody to stop ya."

unbothered by sharing his enthusiasm.. smoke merely looks out and over them, getting a feel for the time, based on the colors of the sky seeping into this alley.

"jus dont get no hopes up. im not super interestin to talk to, 'case it wasn clear."

whitty kind of wants to grab a smoke to calm its nerves, but the idea of sharing? better not to risk it. last person who got to see them with a lit cigar had to be an updike with a few bolts lost in the brain. or maybe just a really gnarly stick in his ass. didn't stay long enough to find out.

Whitty walked over and sat down against the wall.

“Thanks. And don’t worry, I’m not that interesting to talk to either...”

#ic.#rb.#what will become of me

"... mm...."

expression bunching upward curiosly, it eyes the other from where he stands at.

"... look, if yous expectin me to come up wi somethin to talk bout jus ta prove ya wrong, youre gon wait a long ass while."

no disrespect intended. whitty just gets a bit salty like that whenever disturbed.

whitty sighed as he walked into another alleyway. The one he lived in didn’t have much food, so he had to go searching in some other ones. But just his luck, the last one he checked had basically nothing.

He glanced around as he walked more into the alleyway, but soon stopped as he noticed something against the wall. Well, more like someone.

-@what-will-become-of-me

whitmore was just resting its eyes, glad to find someplace that is quiet for once.

then they hear the other. one eye clicks open, darting about towards the sound. smoke says nothing, too uncertain now to actually try. it's not everyday you get a chance at meeting somebody just like yourself, especially when you're.. whitty.

it is unmoving, standing their ground in silence. he does not feel threatened yet, so bass only, casually returns that stare.

Huh. Whitty had never met anyone like him before. He wasn’t even aware that he wasn't the only bomb humanoid. Either way, he didn't want to be rude.

“Hey, um, sorry if I’m bothering you. I didn’t know anyone was going to be here. I’m just looking for something to eat...”

"whatever man, is cool."

whitty rolls its one open eye, then goes back to what bass was already doing. it shrugs, voice faintly groggy as its vision is shrouded in darkness again, eye shut.

".... nah, you too late. they picked clean."

whatever little was leftover by raccoons and such, whitmore'd most likely called dibs on when he got here first anyways.

Whitty sighed.

“Oh. Ok then...”

He thought about just moving on, but considering that another bomb humanoid was in front of him, he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to at least try to talk to them.

“Hey... do you mind if I sit here with you for a bit? I’ll give you your space. And maybe we could talk too? If you want to, that is...”

#ic.#rb.#what will become of me

"uh.. well, i spose im nobody to stop ya."

unbothered by sharing his enthusiasm.. smoke merely looks out and over them, getting a feel for the time, based on the colors of the sky seeping into this alley.

"jus dont get no hopes up. im not super interestin to talk to, 'case it wasn clear."

whitty kind of wants to grab a smoke to calm its nerves, but the idea of sharing? better not to risk it. last person who got to see them with a lit cigar had to be an updike with a few bolts lost in the brain. or maybe just a really gnarly stick in his ass. didn't stay long enough to find out.

whitty sighed as he walked into another alleyway. The one he lived in didn’t have much food, so he had to go searching in some other ones. But just his luck, the last one he checked had basically nothing.

He glanced around as he walked more into the alleyway, but soon stopped as he noticed something against the wall. Well, more like someone.

-@what-will-become-of-me

whitmore was just resting its eyes, glad to find someplace that is quiet for once.

then they hear the other. one eye clicks open, darting about towards the sound. smoke says nothing, too uncertain now to actually try. it's not everyday you get a chance at meeting somebody just like yourself, especially when you're.. whitty.

it is unmoving, standing their ground in silence. he does not feel threatened yet, so bass only, casually returns that stare.

Huh. Whitty had never met anyone like him before. He wasn’t even aware that he wasn't the only bomb humanoid. Either way, he didn't want to be rude.

“Hey, um, sorry if I’m bothering you. I didn’t know anyone was going to be here. I’m just looking for something to eat...”

#ic.#rb.#what will become of me

"whatever man, is cool."

whitty rolls its one open eye, then goes back to what bass was already doing. it shrugs, voice faintly groggy as its vision is shrouded in darkness again, eye shut.

".... nah, you too late. they picked clean."

whatever little was leftover by raccoons and such, whitmore'd most likely called dibs on when he got here first anyways.

whitty sighed as he walked into another alleyway. The one he lived in didn’t have much food, so he had to go searching in some other ones. But just his luck, the last one he checked had basically nothing.

He glanced around as he walked more into the alleyway, but soon stopped as he noticed something against the wall. Well, more like someone.

-@what-will-become-of-me

whitmore was just resting its eyes, glad to find someplace that is quiet for once.

then they hear the other. one eye clicks open, darting about towards the sound. smoke says nothing, too uncertain now to actually try. it's not everyday you get a chance at meeting somebody just like yourself, especially when you're.. whitty.

it is unmoving, standing their ground in silence. he does not feel threatened yet, so bass only, casually returns that stare.

#ic.#what will become of me

exucse me Orochi is a cat-type demon-

please screenshot your original ask and tell or show me where does it say that.

#like . i went to your blog even before answering to look for any info that wasnt included in your ask #found nothing.#it looked more like a possum than a cat to me at the moment-#so..... yeah??? not sorry‚ i tried my best‚ dont sass me pls thx #ooc.#kitywuver

You have been visited by Orochi. His intent is to observe you.

what is whitmore even supposed to say. bass is an 8ft tall humanoid body with a cartoony bomb for a head, they're in no place to judge mutant winged possums.

so, they try their best not to stare back.

a strangled discomfort lingers in the air.

#ic.#kitywuver

OFFICER DOWN IM CKAKCLING

"s damn right! fuck them dogs."

#definitely one of the most images ever #ic.

( @the-bomb-house hiiii :> )

You don't normally intend to get lost while going on a walk... nor do you intend to nearly get caught by TGG once again. Bitty takes a shaky sigh, rushing into an alleyway and simply pressing their body against a dumpster. Great... great... and he couldn't call Pavel.. or Adam... heck Monika would be great right now too.

"Mmmm...." The tiny bomb simply just sinks to the ground. Blinking and looking around a bit.

"Anyone?....please?"

now whitmore on the other hand, they, who were just going on about their day with no intentions of being productive- only happened, to be taking a breather, on opposite end of the same dumpster. it sat on an old rug someone threw out, taking in the ease of not so polluted air.

and, so much for one afternoon of chill.

ashy eyelids mechanically clicked open as soon as bomb's peace was disturbed.

"mmph.. ay, what...? is someone there?"

the-bomb-house

Oh. Well they were asking for some kind of response but they weren't exactly e x p e c t i n g it. Bitty leans out slightly and peeks, blinking at the other.

"A-AH! S-sorry-"

Realization kinda settled in... sounded like... big brother? Probably another alt..

"D-didn't mean to disturb you..."

#HII HELLOOO HIII #ic.#so nice to meet another rp blog!#the bomb house

"... eh.. whatevs its fine." and his day off, so whitty rather wouldn't let this bother bass anyway. it won't even turn, to look.

"you the only one tha sounds disturbed righ now, tell ya what. you lost or wha?"

the temptation to just dismiss bitty and get a move on is rising by every minute. not exactly because whitty doesn't care or something.. rather, smoke just wants this day to themselves. of course, good old curiosity gets the better of him, still.

#ic.#the bomb house

Do you take rps from other fandoms as well?

might just depend on the fandom hun,, i try to be friendly towards all but there may be exceptions, so its best to check

#ooc.#anon.

( @the-bomb-house hiiii :> )

You don't normally intend to get lost while going on a walk... nor do you intend to nearly get caught by TGG once again. Bitty takes a shaky sigh, rushing into an alleyway and simply pressing their body against a dumpster. Great... great... and he couldn't call Pavel.. or Adam... heck Monika would be great right now too.

"Mmmm...." The tiny bomb simply just sinks to the ground. Blinking and looking around a bit.

"Anyone?....please?"

now whitmore on the other hand, they, who were just going on about their day with no intentions of being productive- only happened, to be taking a breather, on opposite end of the same dumpster. it sat on an old rug someone threw out, taking in the ease of not so polluted air.

and, so much for one afternoon of chill.

ashy eyelids mechanically clicked open as soon as bomb's peace was disturbed.

"mmph.. ay, what...? is someone there?"

Updike sighed as he walked into the alleyway, using it as a shortcut. Of course he had to mess up his directions to the bakery somehow. He was usually better at this. -@fatherly-cloud

smoke gives up. should of predicted the lack of ANY thing helpful to be found in a neighborhood as broke as greece.. not even a lick of left-overs in this trashpile. frustration rises as well as hunger, while they tug off their hoodie to tie it around their waist, sitting down to ponder very obnoxiously oversaturated graffiti work.

a tobacco stick gets lit before the bomb is at all aware of bass’s fingers doing it.. gnawing onto the cigar subconsciously.

until, an unnatural chill passes. bomb is not one to be disturbed by temperature drops, but, this is too weird. looking up- their body malfunctions, unable to flee..

“…. you? the hell you want?”

It takes a second for Updike to process what whitty just said, and what Whitty was doing. He remembered that whitty said he was going out for a bit while Updike did a few small errands, which was fine, he trusted his son, but he never thought he would see him with a lit cigar. He gave him a judgmental, parental look.

“Whitmore Bombastic Updike. Do you care to explain why you’re smoking?”

He only used Whitty’s full name when it came to serious matters. And Updike considered this serious. And sure, he wasn’t sure if whitty was actually smoking, but it certainly looked like it.

“the…. fuck you jus called me..? ion owe no explanation or shit to ya!! i know you jus wan my head mounted on your wall, wha the hell-…. holup. did ya hit yours?”

its scratchy voice- mixed up with rising sensation of bloodburn and a weakness that made it all the more afraid of being here with him PROBABLY makes whitty sound angrier than necessary. quickly it stands, hoping to hide their hot nausea.

and staggers. he moved too fast, and is now sort of lightheaded, clumsy and all.

Updike gave whitty a surprised look. Did Whitty just swear at him? It was rare for Whitty to swear, and even then, he never swore at Updike before. What was with this sudden attitude and change in behavior? And why did he say something so awful? Updike would never hurt him…

When Whitty staggered, Updike went over to him to make sure he didn’t fall. He could talk with him later. Right now, he just wanted to make sure that his son was ok…

whitmore’s following scream was terror itself, if you were to put ’terror’ through a meat grinder- only to then cover that noise with a broken electric bass guitar.

“wha-aaaARH-!?! getcha hands offa me before i, i… uh.. BITE em off..! or iunno!”

smoke squirms like its life depends on it (which well, it kinda does, in their eyes.) desperate to get away from this updike. believed it or not, he, kind of misses the one who actively tried to kill it… at least THAT guy wasn’t pretending to be nice.

Updike flinched at the scream and quickly let go of Whitty. He took a step back and looked at whitty, confused and worried. Why did Whitty scream? Why did Whitty sound so terrified of him? “W-Whitty? Please, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?”

His voice was soft and sounded worried.

“DID YA DO SOMETHIN!?! youse, been, chasin me fo as long as i can remember with all ya guns an dipstick minions, ya the very reason imma homeless mutant with no past or any sign ofa future, you nearly killed me several times- and you, dare, act like we are… homies or sumn?”

leaning into one wall for support, other free hand serving to keep safe distance. whitty doesn’t even know, why it let his guts spill like that… maybe, it’s the fact he is moments away from throwing up?

Updike looked at Whitty as he felt himself tear up a little bit. He was confused and upset.

“I-I’ve never done anything like that to you. Not even close… You know that son…”

for a second, the world stops spinning.

“…. s-sa… did… did you, jus… call me…”

splutters the hulking bombhead, eyes instantly going as big as dinnerplates.

“whaddya, really think im.. ya “son”..?”

another pause, they have to gather air.

“…wha, in godfucked earth are ya on?!”

A few tears fell from Updike’s eyes.

“I’m not ‘on’ anything son. I’m just confused… Why are you acting like this? Why are you saying these things that you know aren’t true?”

whitmore clutches at his- head? bomb? the side of its face. why the hell should smoke even continue putting up with…. whatever’s going on with *this* gabriel?

smoke’d dropped its cigarette ages ago, sparks left behind, stomped out from all this commotion. oh something is surely very wrong here… clearly neither side is thinking straight, and, arguing, will only bury both deeper into that unending pit of torture. whitty opens their yap, to try reason after a brief moment of thought-

just to groan, doubling over in an acidic pain. biting updike’s paws off no longer reads as too insane of an idea suddenly.

“agh, arh, ow…. gah, ffffuckin dammit!”

Updike instantly became worried. He wanted to try and help, but he knew going over to Whitty would most likely make things worse. But he also didn’t want to just stand there and watch…

‘But, unfortunately, it seemed like watching was currently his only choice, even if he didn’t like it…