i love that mayhem is a legal term. like u can be charged with mayhem. its like arresting someone for funny business
the jury finds the defendant GUILTY on all accounts of tomfoolery, japing and generally Taking the Piss
causing a ruckus
@hooksem
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@cooksem
i love that mayhem is a legal term. like u can be charged with mayhem. its like arresting someone for funny business
the jury finds the defendant GUILTY on all accounts of tomfoolery, japing and generally Taking the Piss
causing a ruckus
@hooksem
please read all rules & information before interacting
(WIP)
hooksem replied to your post: “I thought women were the only ones that get mood...
fuq u
“And I did eat all the bread.”
“I thought women were the only ones that get mood swings when they get old.”
Photographer Tiptoes Through The Tulips To Shoot Harvest Mice, And The Result Will Make Your Day
hooksem:
cooksem replied to your post:
you ain’t ever heard of recyclin
“considering i was around since before everything went to shit.. yes, i have. that’s not how you recycle though. that’s how you die. glass is.. ……fickle.”
“Well you don’t set off that shit anywhere close to ya. You make it a mine! Non lethal! ...... For the most part, dependin’ on angles. Works out real nice if you’re just tryin’ ta inca-in.....just fuck with people’s legs 'n shit. End up with one of them glass light things with the pictures in ‘em stickin’ outta ya limbs.”
Nevermind the blood loss. If it doesn’t kill someone immediately, it might as well be non lethal.
hooksem:
Whether or not they had initially properly prepared for the arrival of the Junkers, the people at this Overwatch thing were fucking stupid if they didn’t see the idea of them staying long to meet the first snowfall of the season working out. (It was warm indoors and they didn’t constantly have to deal with an irradiated wasteland in their efforts to escape the eyes and hands of law enforcement. There was also food and clean water–Only a goddamn idiot would pass up on that without a really good reason.)
It was a relatively simple endeavour to get Rat inside but much more to get him to put on the winter clothes that had been left for him, the small collection seemingly mixed together from the belongings of others.
… Were those the one frost woman’s gloves–
Though he’s glad that Jamison decided to (sort-of) cooperate long enough to get appropriate winter clothing on, Mako finds himself faintly regretting just charing through the snowdrifts like he had done, the exertion and cold air a terrible combination for his lungs.
The slighter man doesn’t get a response for a few seconds, Hog spending the time wheezing as he tries to catch his breath, and it’s only when he finds he can speak properly without having to pause to desperately inhale that he bothers talking again.
“…yeah, you’re good. ..as long as you keep those clothes on. The flu’s a bitch. Pneumonia’s a bigger one.”
Carefully, he tugs down the flaps of the trapper’s hat he’s sporting, an irritable huff escaping him shortly after.
“Don’t stay out of my sight for long. Can’t help you if you’re too far away.”
Wasn’t ‘ pneumonia’ a chemical found in fertilizer that was used to make explosives? You could find that in snow?! Boy, he was going to like this winter thing a lot more than he thought he would!
Junkrat didn’t respond, instead blasting out of the door exactly how he did an hour earlier, trudging through the same tracks he’d made like a puppy navigating their yard. Whether he was aware of it or not, the wet snowfall made for great packing snow, which would in turn help create the perfect snowman.
All he needed was a base for the snowman’s body, which most people would make out of compressed snow to then roll around to collect more.
Jamison had a mine, specially designed to withstand water damage.
This wasn’t just mindless frolicking; this was a field test.
He found himself a relatively deep patch of snow, dropping down on his knees to pull the mine that was concealed in the stuffing of his coat from a tear on the inside. Roadhog wouldn’t have followed him out that far yet, and as long as he packed and rolled fast enough, he’d never see it coming! Operation tactical snowman was going off without a hitch! All he’d really need the big guy for was to get the pieces on top of one another and BLAM!
All the while he hummed that ridiculous tune about the snowman who came to life once a group of strung out children put a top hat on it. No one in this joint was classy enough to own one, though, so Frosty had to go without for today.
❄️
@hooksem bc its SNOW TIME
With his last adventure into the frozen wasteland cut short by the meddling efforts of one mister Hog, Jamison spent the better part of the last thirty minutes fighting with traditional winter wear. Whoever made this shit didn’t very well consider the needs of the cripple, did they? Putting on snow pants with a pegleg? Might as well stick the thing up your ass! Getting into a coat with a robotic arm? Well and dandy until it came time to zip the fucker up.
Snow boots?!
Actually they’d gotten him velcro ones. How considerate!
But the real pièce de résistance? The hat and gloves he stole from the Chinese woman. ....Well...glove, singular. He didn’t really need the other one. They were cute. Warm, too.
Considering all the effort, swearing and complaining, nothing was going to stop him from getting outside in all that sweet, wonderful white shit. Who knew something that wasn’t on fire could be so beautiful?
Which left them to where they were now, Junks standing besides the door and bouncing in place impatiently, staring up at his partner in crime, “ ‘M I good now? Can I go?”
⛄ but also 👤 because ffs rat whats are you wearing
⛄ for my muse to try to convince yours to help build a snowman in the fresh snow
👤to drop a coat on my muse since they seem mighty cold and not dressed properly for the weather.
Rat isn’t stupid.
He’s excitable as hell, hasty, lacking in common sense sometimes, foolhardy to the point of making the job of being his bodyguard a living nightmare half the time… but he’s not stupid.
He knows very well why one can’t exactly trust what little snow they’d see in Australia (or it’s guessed that he knows, at least), and so Hog can’t say he’s entirely surprised when the request (also see: demand) for them to go out in the snow is initially denied.(Nevermind that the snow over here in America is decidedly less likely to be deadly. Probably. He’d push one of the other people at this hellhole into the snowdrifts to be sure before either of them touched it, though.)
But just as he has needed to do enough times now that he has long since lost count, Roadhog finds it much easier to just pick Jamison up and carry him (instead of wasting fuck knows how much time arguing with him), and he stops just before the nearest door to the outside land, setting Rat down and adjusting his jacket.
He moves to put on gloves, aiming to tell the other man about the importance of dressing in layers and covering oneself fully when it’s this cold outside, that this weather is much more different than what they’re used to and you can get sick from being in the cold too long–
–and in the end, he just sighs heavily, glancing out the glass pane on the door and seeing Junkrat trot about in the flurries.
…Shit, he’s out there in the freezing cold; He’s not dressed properly and he’s going to get sick. Fuck fuck fuck his immune system might not handle the shock of a flu well, and–
With enough force to dent one of the doors (he’ll apologize to the gorilla later. …Okay, he won’t but it’s the thought that counts–), he charges outside, not entirely unlike a raging bull as he effectively bulldozes his way through the snow, Junkrat’s high-pitched cackling growing louder as he gets closer.
Hog can hear the hiss as Rat sucks in air and the brief chattering of his teeth as he goes to speak, and it’s during one of those inhalations that Mako strikes, having removed his own jacket somewhere along the way, first throwing it over the other man, then holding him still (as much as he can manage anyway) until it’s understood that no, this isn’t an attack and that yes, this is ‘Roadie’, being as much of a nag as ever.
“Fuckin’ idiot…” he grumbles. “You’re gonna die out in this shit if you aren’t warm.”
As he is steadily becoming more and more aware of the biting cold of winter winds on his skin, he turns back to the building, Rat still in his arms.
’…'ay, wait a minute…. Ain’t this yer–’
“–Shut. Up.”
He scowls after snapping, letting out an annoyed huff at the ’Ha, I know ya cared about me!’ he hears before Rat uses the jacket’s material to cover his own face (and then search through what pockets he can find).
hog voiceline: I have your present right here. followed by rat voiceline: its the little things.
hog, resisting the urge to strangle rat bc he’s being a shit/laugh bc that would mean rat wins: that means you’ve spent time looking at it. enough to judge the size. also yours is like a tiny canned sausage, so
Rat found dead in Oasis
@hooksem because of Dash Games
“Well that’s a right crock of shit, innit?” He notes, throwing the magazine over his shoulder to flutter down onto the pile of papers he’d started to amass in his corner of the room. Most of the magazines he stole ended up there until they needed something to burn or Roadhog needed something to roll up and bash him over the head with. Usually it was the first; if Road was going to hit him, it was normally with an open palm on the back of the head.
“ ‘Most likely not workin’ for someone’, ha! They’s didn’t think about someone like me comin’ along.”
Was he proud of that? Yeah, a little. Fuck you, shiny, brightly colored and glossy magazine! Chaotic neutral could be hired!
hooksem:
cooksem replied to your post:
“Well you don’t always get what you want… ♫ BUT YA GET WHATCHA NEED ♪”
“……..i need a headache?”
“What? No. Me! Ya need me! Do I look like a headache to you?”
....
“Don’t answer that.”
WHAT COLOR ARE YOU?
Take this quiz and find out! It’ll have you check off all traits that you think apply to your muse, then calculate a color!
Tagged by:no one! Tagging: @hooksem and everyone else who wants to
Your dominant hues are red and yellow... most of what you do is motivated by your need to change things and have a good time, but you've been known to settle down and think out a situation, too. You tend to surprise people just when they're starting to feel like they've got you down. Your saturation level is very high - you are all about getting things done. The world may think you work too hard but you have a lot to show for it, and it keeps you going. You shouldn't be afraid to lead people, because if you're doing it, it'll be done right. Your outlook on life is very bright. You are sunny and optimistic about life and others find it very encouraging, but remember to tone it down if you sense irritation.
Me: hey how’s it going
My Australian friend: ???????
Me: oh sorry
Me: noʎ ǝɹɐ ʍoɥ ʎǝɥ
Them: ohhhhhhh LOL the spiders are coming and I only have minutes left
hooksem:
Though it might’ve been hard for the untrained eye to tell, Roadhog was nervous, though not for the reasoning that almost anyone else might be.
It’s not the imminent threat of attack nor the lingering worry that joining Overwatch was a mistake and they’d be neutralized in their sleep one night when some other member of the organization decides they’ve had enough of the bizarre junkers lurking in their midst.
No, it’s the fact that the immediate area is far too quiet, the lack of Junkrat causing trouble for others or making messes or.. anything else, really, a telltale sign that any second now, there’d be some sort of incident, and…
“…Toothpaste.”
He repeats the word dully, looking up from the small book in his hands so he can look at Rat properly while processing the rambling that he had just been blasted with.
Soon enough, his gaze shifts to focus on the tubes of toothpaste, and he heaves a particularly tired-sounding sigh as he shakes his head, looking back down to the book.
“Never thought I’d say this, but.. Put the shit you stole back. Don’t want to get bitched at for it.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds before looking up again, puzzled by something.
“…What’s the point in making mint and peppermint? Sounds like the same thing to me.”
“You’re shittin me?” He whined, flicking open and snapping close a cap with a rhythmic pattern, “What for? Ain’t no one seen me. Least, I don’t think so. If they want ‘em back that bad, they can come by and get them themselves. An’ if they wanna bitch, you just tell ‘em to bitch to me, and then I’ll tell them where they can shove their gingivitis paste!”
There was a principle behind stealing! Once you had it, it was yours until someone had the balls to rip it out of your hands or at least steal it back. It’s how it always was, and he’d be dammed before he started playing nice just because the monkey said to play nice. Who takes orders from a God damn monkey?
“‘Sides, it’s what they get for talkin’ enough shit. Do you know how many times someone’s made some persnickety comment on how I need a bath? I’d need about four more arms to show ya.” An exaggeration, obviously, but it was equally as obvious that the rat had had enough of it. They wanted him to be hygienic? He would be. With their hygiene products.
Wait.........Hog asked a question. ........What’d he ask?
He looked down as the cap snapped back. Peppermint. Right!
“Oh, they ain’t the same. Peppermint’s the Christmas stuff! You know, the canes? It’s hotter. Mint mint’s just girlscout cookies.” He tossed the peppermint tube to his companion, taking to opening and closing the medicated toothpaste instead. “You can have that then. You’ll love it. Make your mouth taste better than that yellow shit.”