Cosimo Galluzzi
Andulka
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
art blog(derogatory)
todays bird
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PR's Tumblrdome
sheepfilms
Stranger Things
dirt enthusiast
Kiana Khansmith
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
I'd rather be in outer space šø
oozey mess
hello vonnie
izzy's playlists!
One Nice Bug Per Day
RMH
@theartofmadeline
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
@definitely-not-possessed
Blog Switching Stuff
[[So the mun has had the brilliant but tedious idea of moving my Night Vale blogs to the massive multi-muse blog @anomalousamalgamate for multiple reasons. All current roleplay threads will still continue on there, and I will keep these other blogs up for reference purposes.]]
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 80
Book
Pamela has shamelessly read books before. In her defense, none of them were illegal.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 79
Relatives
Pamela could name every one of her living relatives. Every. Single. One. This includes family that sheās never met before and should not have heard of.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 78
Jewelry
Pamela likes jewelry that looks like itās made from bone. This is especially true if it actually is made from bones.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 77
Medicine
Pamela has no need for medication. That is what she would say, though it would probably help to calm her temper a bit.
ą² _ą²°ą³ (definitely-not-possessed)
ą² _ą²°ą³- Your muse telling my muse, āIām rich, bitch!ā
definitely-not-possessedā
āPamela!ā the Weatherman admonished, somewhat shocked.Ā āIādĀ have thought a former mayor would have better language in public. What happened, did you win the lottery?ā
āGreetings, members of the press corpse. I mean corps,ā Pamela began, hastily correcting herself. She paused to gather herself and then continued speaking, breezing through the press conferences with no further mishaps. One ambulance arrival and three dead reporters later, she retained her full comfort. This was, after all, what she did best.
He continued until he reached the end of the song, humming the fading melody of the outro. When he finished, the broadcasting room of the station was completely silent. The Weatherman blinked in surprise. The room-shaking lightning bolts werenāt supposed to have stopped for another twenty minutes or so, but by all appearances, the storm had based early. He rushed out of the station to see if he could catch Pamela giving her press conference.
By that point, Pamela was still in what she intended to be the middle of her press conference.Ā ā...And that was how I taught a librarian the power of friendship with my fists. Or I called it friendship, but the librarian...ā She trailed off as the storm ceased.Ā āOh! I have stopped the storm!ā she declared with a booming laugh despite having no reason to believe that the calm weather was her doing.Ā āAnd that concludes todayās emergency press conference. Itās great to be back. If you need anything, donāt bother me with it.ā
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 76
Sunset
Pamela wants to learn to use magic to control the sunset. So far, she has had no such luck in doing so.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 75
Phone
Pamela owns a cell phone and sometimes uses it, but sheās more likely to summon anyone she wants to speak with. Either that or sheāll appear to them without warning.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 74
Evening
Pamelaās favorite time of day is the evening. She genuinely appreciates the encroaching darkness as well as the sense of something close to peace but also sort of near fear.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 73
Night
Pamela lurks in the night, waiting for the chance to stri--okay, no. She actually spends her nights sleeping or pretending to sleep while mysterious lights pass overhead, like most people. But she likes to let everyone think otherwise.
StevenĀ UniverseĀ AU (Closed)
The shouting caused Cecil to cower even more.Ā āThis isnāt working,ā Pamela muttered before shouting as well.Ā āAnd if we were here to kill you, your pitiful desk would not be able to stop us!ā
After a moment, a whimper could be heard before the radio host crawled out from beneath the desk.
āYOUāVE COME OUT. NOW YOU CAN SEE HOW WE ARE NOT HERE TO JOIN YOU.ā They shouted out waiting for Cecil to come closer so that the shouting could have the best effect
Cecil crept closer to the window, still keeping his distance.Ā āSo, um...whatās your name?ā he asked, trying (and failing) to sound casual.
āWe are Bloodstone!ā Pamela boomed before stopping to wonder where that name had come from. Bloodstone? What?Ā āEr, I mean Zircon and...no, that isnāt it. Pamela! Pamela and the Glow Cloud!ā
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 72
Morning
Mornings are the things which Pamela has always wished most to have the authority to ban. Unfortunately, she has never been able to do so.
StevenĀ UniverseĀ AU (Closed)
āThey are strange ones,ā Pamela agreed, trying to look in through the window as Nebula took over with speaking. After a few moments, she took the turn to talk.Ā āI donāt think heās paying attention.ā She tried to take a closer look.Ā āNo, waitā¦heās hiding under his desk.ā
āWE ARE NOT HERE TO KILL YOU.ā Nebula shouted, maybe a tab buy to loud, but the point had to be made and people always seemed to understand what was happening when shouting was involved
The shouting caused Cecil to cower even more.Ā āThis isnāt working,ā Pamela muttered before shouting as well.Ā āAnd if we were here to kill you, your pitiful desk would not be able to stop us!ā
After a moment, a whimper could be heard before the radio host crawled out from beneath the desk.
ą² _ą²°ą³ (definitely-not-possessed)
ą² _ą²°ą³- Your muse telling my muse, āIām rich, bitch!ā
definitely-not-possessedā
āPamela!ā the Weatherman admonished, somewhat shocked.Ā āIādĀ have thought a former mayor would have better language in public. What happened, did you win the lottery?ā
Meanwhile, Pamela rushed outside, ignoring the danger of the storm. She could only assume that the gazebo had to have been struck down by that point. Once outside of the station, she began to chant in an ancient language, as she usually did when she had to manually summon reporters. Often, there was also a blood sacrifice, but that was a formality she didnāt have time for.
As though in a trance, the reporters and reportersā interns began to shamble toward her, their eyes blank until they stood in front of her. They then, collectively, blinked as though confused as to their new location. She smiled to herself as they neared her. Who knew she would have missed giving emergency press conferences so much?
The Weatherman always found the sensation of singing strange at first, the acidic taste of his coffee-bean flavored voice competing with the blooming colors of the melody. He warned the town about the storm, not with his words but with rhythms and arpeggios, with flowing crescendos and key changes. The longer he sang, the further his thoughts drifted from the fact that he was being broadcast across town, and soon his nervousness was completely forgotten.
āGreetings, members of the press corpse. I mean corps,ā Pamela began, hastily correcting herself. She paused to gather herself and then continued speaking, breezing through the press conferences with no further mishaps. One ambulance arrival and three dead reporters later, she retained her full comfort. This was, after all, what she did best.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 71
Honesty
Pamela is a politician. Honesty isnāt exactly her strong suit.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 70
Loyalty
Pamela is surprisingly loyal to the town of Night Vale, to the point where she would fight to defend it if possible. Sheād fight for several other reasons, but what matters most is that sheād definitely defend her town.
100 Days of Headcanons: Day 69
Faith
Pamela has immense faith in herself. This is meant in the mostĀ āgod-complexā sense possible.
