man, but oysters ain't for me

[xmuzes-deactivated20200608]

     BUT I KNOW THAT DEEP DOWN INSIDE               THERE’S A FEELING THAT RIDES                    ALL THE WAY TO THE END 

               (18+ semi-selective private indi. multi-muse roleplay blog)

MUSES // RULES 

[fillybustar]

baddestdangerboy‌:

Bashing rats? Somehow, you know? Looking at Charlie, interacting with him for all of 10 minutes? Badou can see it. Seems legit. It all falls into place now into a picture of Charlie that makes a little bit of sense for once. 

“So find a job as a janitor, alright, the job market for that is probably…great.” 

He’s helpful, this is helpful. Charlie will go places. “You’ll figure it out, dude.” Though he seems more worried about being put up in a nice place than finding something to do to support himself?

❝ Yeah, man. See, everyone’s got clogged toilets or some kind of rat problem, and I got tons of experience with like, all sorts of nasty stuff. ❞ Charlie cracked the eggs and threw them in the pan. The pan wasn’t quite hot enough, which gave him enough time to get all that shell out of there (with his dirty fingers, of course. it was fine! the heat would kill the germs).  ❝ So I come off the streets all outta no-where, go in, snake their toilets, bash their rats. Leave before they realize what just happened, ❞ Charlie turned to lean against the counter. He’d rather directly look at people when he was talking to them. Not in the eyes though, he never liked what he could see in people’s eyes. He liked even less that they knew he could see what was in their eyes. Maybe if he had some kind of sunglasses... ❝ They’d be like ‘woah, who was that mysterious man who came in here and cleaned the place up so nice?’. I’d be like, a secret hero dude. Like Superman. ❞

[fillybustar]

fangsmyth‌:

the protest couldn’t be heard behind the– no, that was complete bullshit. lanque can lie to himself about a lot of things, but his impeccable sense of hearing just isn’t one of them. ignoring charlie is a choice. he isn’t one to offer charity to anyone if he doesn’t have anything to gain out of it, and the dude should feel blessed that he’s paying him this much attention… he’ll make it up to him.

when they’re sufficiently emptied, lanque digs in his pocket for a joint. he usually has at least one on him… is that really a good idea when his lungs are already coated in paint? eh. weed’s still less dangerous than acrylic. or whatever paint is in those cans, he’s a wordsmith not a painter.

“ here. open your mouth. ” the troll is kind enough to at least light the thing away from charlie’s face for him, offering the smoking stick as a kinder high than that laced with such vicious chemicals, “ you’ll definitely have more fun with this. ”

The good thing about Charlie Kelly was that he had done so many drugs in his life for such a long period of time that, well, it seemed like his body had adapted to them. Which didn’t seem humanly possible, it seemed like Charlie should’ve been dead a long time ago. Which was entirely true, but he was still kicking. The aerosol and acrylic and probably, maybe, lead (depending on the age of these cans, which he didn’t know) would do nothing to him. But THC was not something he had mixed with aerosol before and he wouldn’t protest to a new kind of high at all. Maybe it would help him with the creative process, maybe it’d make his mind retreat from the dark, weird path it was heading down. Maybe it’d make it worse. Who knew! It probably would partially depend on whatever strain Lanque had shoved in his mouth. It didn’t take him long to react, grabbing for the joint as Lanque lit it as if it was reflexive. It was almost as if he was a child that would put anything in it’s mouth, except way more grown up and looking for a fix as a means of escapism. Charlie took a deep inhale before exhaling. Whatever he’d just taken a hit off wasn’t dirt, that was for sure. Should’ve guessed that’d be the case from a funny man in a fancy costume.  His head swam. What was a coherent thought? Charlie sat down, suddenly very aware of how much his ankles were hurting from squatting and huffing. The ground was awfully cold. Was it that cold in his apartment? Could it be warmer anywhere else? ❝ Do you think it’s this cold in my apartment? ❞ Charlie asked, as if Lanque would know. Charlie decided that logically, he should, considering that all apartments were probably the same temperature. There had to be some kind of law stating that. Was it obvious that he had a low tolerance to THC?

[fillybustar]

baddestdangerboy‌:

At least any furniture is safe to sit on, which Badou has found out all but happily as he listens, parses through this story and tries to connect the dots…make some sense of it. Maybe he shouldn’t make sense of it…maybe you can’t. 

DNA? Like her hair? Did she shave her head in the closet? 

“Sounds exciting.” He still thinks you’re Scooby, but that’s a rather biased view since he hasn’t met Frank or the others. And he sincerely means it…he’s sure it’s…fun….

“So you know how to mix drinks and stuff too? You’ll do alright here, then.”

❝ Oh definitely, ❞ Charlie replied absently, as he started looking through cabinets for a pan. He turns the knob of the stove on to medium as soon as he has a pan and begins cracking eggs. He was glad he wasn’t gonna have to eat these raw; he’d eaten quite a few quails eggs raw when he was homeless. ❝ Ehhh.... ❞ He sounded unsure. He’s definitely hesitant to call himself a bartender, considering he technically was but his job was the more gross stuff first and foremost. If absolutely no one was available to tend the bar Charlie would step up, but that was in the absolute worst case scenario. Last time he tended the bar, a lot of folks complained about the bleach in their drinks. ❝ I mean, yeah. But I was more-so like, a janitor? ❞ Charlie played with the shell of his ear. When he did that it always either a nervous tic or a horny tic. It certainly wasn’t the latter. ❝ I did the Charlie work. Cleaned up the vomit, snaked toilets, bashed rats... ❞ He felt like he had a conversation with Badou about this before for some reason, but he couldn’t remember it.  ❝ Dennis or Dee usually did the drink mixing. ❞ Furrowing his brow, he tried to remember the last time he saw Mac actually tending the bar. He called himself ‘head of security’ but what did he actually do? They rarely had new clientele, he barely got to bounce like he wanted. Mac might’ve been more useless than Dee, but he didn’t want to admit that to himself. 

[fangsmyth]

i swear my brain is huge but it contains too many other things

@fillybustar​ said: ❛ I do what I do, and you do what you can do about it. ❜

he’s been watching charlie huff spray paint cans for about ten minutes. lanque is certainly no person to judge when it comes to indulging in literally any kind of high, but he’d like to think he’s at least… somewhat responsible. it’s not really safe to take in that much, and humans are just so fragile. he figured he should warn charlie, tell him to stop, but… “ if you insist. ”

lanque decides to take care of his supply in the most fun way he knows how, setting it to flames. he takes the last two unused cans, a lighter, and starts making flamethrowers with the leftover supply. of course turning the flame away from both of them and sure to keep the janitor out of the way.

[fillybustar]

Charlie appreciates the concern, he really does, but he can handle his chemicals. If he weren’t high as a kite, maybe he would’ve realized Lanque was concerned, but probably not. The spray paint made him more stupider, less perceptive, more creative, more about spiders, The Nightman... He always wrote music when he huffed paint, it helped the artistic process along real nicely.  Yeah, it was his sweet, sweet, creative juice. And Lanque was just burning it off like that. What the hell?! ❝ STOP! ❞ Charlie yelled, hand out towards the troll whom he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure wasn’t a hallucination. No, he couldn’t articulate his distaste any better than that. All of his brain cells were too busy swimming in aerosol fumes. 

[fillybustar]

baddestdangerboy·:

Alright that makes a lot more sense. Sort of. Badou nods slowly, just taking it all in. They own a business too, wow…that’s almost functional. Maybe he has to reevaluate all this….

Probably not. 

“So are you Scooby or are you Scrappy?” And he just goes ahead and assumes he’s the dog….even that Cursed puppy. But he doesn’t assume Charlie has no friends, that’s nice! Right…

“You’re gonna have to do more than solve mysteries here, dude.”

Charlie actually gives it a second to ruminate in his head (said head being in the fridge looking for food) before he answers.  ❝ Uh, I think I’m actually more of a Shaggy figure. Frank’s probably a better fit for Scooby. ❞ He peels off his gloves before he starts reaching around in the provided food space. Was all this shit in date? Whatever, he wasn’t picky. Oh shit, were those eggs? ❝ We don’t really actually solve mysteries that often. We mostly just drink beer and yell at each other. Like, there were a couple of times, like when we went to see the Eagles and got trapped in a utility room in the stadium. Or when we went into that house to extract the priceless artifact. ❞ Charlie pries the carton open with his thumbs, examining the eggs. Yep, those were chicken eggs. Was it wrong he was a little disappointed?  ❝ Though that was really more of an Indiana Jones situation? I dunno, it’s in the air. Frank broke that family’s vase, we got stuck in the closet, Dee sprayed her DNA everywhere... It was bad. ❞   His eyes wandered over to the rest of the kitchen. Wow, it was weird having an actual kitchen. When was the last time he didn’t cook on a hotplate or radiator? Electric stoves were so inconsistent with their temperature, it’d be really hard to make Grilled Charlies on it-- much less Grilled Franks.

[clubdevo-a]

Visit Original Link

devo- recombo dna

he’s got a good reason for stayin alive said i got a good reason for watchin my tv said i got a good reason for keepin it together said i got a good reason they gave to me

[fillybustar]

flynni·:

“Take off your shoe right now and I’ll scream- and my scream is shrill, don’t test me.”

Its like a moment of sheer panic– not because Eugene can’t handle a little gruesome injuries, but rather he’s not drunk enough to tolerate the image of trash being used to stop the bleeding. Didn’t sound like a stubbed toe- it sounded like a full on assault of the digit.

“Why would I ever, ever want to see your messed up trash nail? I mean, I’m flattered… but seriously, what in the world? We don’t know each other on that level yet. At least grab me another beer if you’re going to expose yourself like that.”

Ooookay, offer rescinded. Charlie pulled himself back upright on the bar-stool like it never happened. ❝ You’re right man, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be pulling my toes out for strangers. ❞ Did he feel ashamed? Maybe a little bit. Charlie wasn’t the best at socializing outside of his friend group; the only interaction he ever got outside of the Gang was the bunch of poor idiots who’s lives they had ruined. Cricket was by far the most common of the rabble that would come around, and Charlie was pretty sure Cricket didn’t even constitute as a human being at this point. The janitor reached over the bar once more, grabbing another beer that had been taken out of the cooler, yet the busy bartender hadn’t gotten around to delivering yet. He was gonna figure out at some point Charlie was sniping his beers, but it’d be cool ‘cause Charlie bar-tended and he’d be able to relate. He’d totally disarm him. Wouldn’t be hard, guy was probably drinking on the job anyway. ❝ Here, ❞ Charlie sat the cold one down in-front of Eugene. ❝ For the toe thing. Like, as an apology. I’m not trying to get you drunk so I can show you my trash toe. ❞ And he meant it. Didn’t mean if he drank anymore he wouldn’t end up showing Eugene regardless, though.

[fillybustar]

baddestdangerboy‌:

Well he seems to feel better about all this, the more he flitters from room to room like a little bird, growing more and more excited. So the trash is officially off the table, Badou’s actually relieved by that.

Though…

“The gang? You’re in a gang?” Who would put this guy in their gang? Is he some sort of badass underneath all that….Charlie-nesss? 

Charlie gives him a questioning look, before the realization hit him. He got this mix-up a lot. ❝ OHHH, no no no, we’re not-- ❞ Charlie laughs at the confusion, albeit a bit awkwardly because how did he explain this? He wasn’t good at explanations. He just tended to confuse people further.  ❝ My-- my friends. We call ourselves the Gang-- it’s not like a criminal thing. It’s what we’ve been calling ourselves since highschool. ❞ His gestures are all over the place as he talks. Back home, his explanations were always this bad, but they were always conveniently covered up by the rest of the Gang. Here it’s just him, badly explaining the Gang’s confusing dynamic.  ❝ It’s me, Mac, Dennis, and Frank. Not Dee, she’s not one of the guys. We run a bar together, get up to all kinds of fun hi-jinks and stuff, ya know, like uhh... ❞ Charlie scratches his scruff in thought. What’s a pop culture reference the kid would understand? ❝ Like Scooby Doo, if they ran a bar. ❞ Not quite. 

[fillybustar]

SPONGEBOB ASK MEME // ACCEPTING 

@flynni:

‘ i’ll have you know i stubbed my toe last week and only cried for 20 minutes. ‘

❝ Hey man, I’ll drink to that! ❞ Charlie rose his beer bottle to him. He had just taken it from behind the bar-- bad habit, forgot he wasn’t working in a bar anymore-- and he was hoping the bartender wouldn’t notice. ❝ The last time I stubbed my toe I didn’t think it’d ever stop bleeding, I had to plug it up with some of the trash Frank keeps lying around for emergencies. Messed the toenail up and everything. I can show you, if you want. Lemme just... ❞  He wasn’t even waiting for a confirmation before he was reaching for his shoe.

[dovingmemes]

spongebob squarepants sentence starters

change around as you see fit!

‘ oh brother , this guy STINKS! ‘

‘ my leg! ‘

‘ chocolate? CHOCOLATE! ‘

‘ the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma. ‘

‘ i’m ugly and i’m proud. ‘

‘ fine , i guess you’re gonna miss the … panty raid. ‘

‘ do you smell that? that smell. a kind of smelly smell. the smelly smell that smells … smelly. ‘

‘ don’t you have to be stupid somewhere else? ‘

‘ can i be excused for the rest of my life? ‘

‘ goodbye , everyone. i’ll remember you all in therapy! ‘ 

‘ firmly grasp it in your hand. ‘

‘ FIRMLY GRASP IT! ‘

‘ well , it’s no secret that the best thing about a secret is secretly telling someone your secret , thereby , secretly adding another secret to their secret collection of secrets , secretly. ‘

‘ come on. you know , i wumbo , you wumbo, he / she / me wumbo. wombology , the study of wumbo! it’s first grade , _____! ‘ 

‘ just get outta here you stupid , dumb animal! ‘

‘ we don’t need television. not as long as we have our imagination. ‘

‘ you just can’t wait for me to die , can you? ‘

‘ this is a load of barnacles … ‘

‘ this is not your average , everyday darkness. this is … advanced darkness. ‘

‘ i’m not just ready , i’m ready freddy. ‘

‘ i’ll have you know i stubbed my toe last week and only cried for 20 minutes. ‘

‘ ravioli , ravioli , give me to formuoli. ‘

‘ too bad that didn’t kill me. ‘

‘ well it may be stupid , but it’s also dumb. ‘

‘ quick , _____ , without think: if you could have anything right now what would it be? ‘

‘ we’ve been smeckledorfed! ‘

‘ oh well , i guess i’m not wearing any pants today. ‘

‘ umm , i got it. lets get naked! ‘

‘ a five letter word for happiness … money! ‘

‘ woo! shake it! shake it! yeah! shake that bubble butt! ‘

‘ _____! your genius is showing! “

“ you’re nothing but pure evil! just like newspaper comics! ‘

‘ liar , liar , plants for hire! ‘

[fillybustar]

suplex51‌:

When your contact info gets automatically shared with an entire city’s populace, you grow accustomed to random texts, and you do it fast. Travis was no different. And normally, he waved off messages like these as someone else’s problem. It got old, y’know— answering the same questions, over and over again, only to be drowned out in a sea of similar replies. Sometimes, charity could only go so far. 

But the level of illiteracy on display here… it weirdly spoke to Travis— told him that not just anybody was gonna help this lost soul out. 

Plus, boredom was a bitch. 

Time to make a call. 

… 

Because texting obviously wouldn’t work. 

Not long after he’d sent the original text, he’d already forgotten it was out there. Huffing gorilla glue tended to have that affect on him. Now scrolling through some... uh, less than family friendly websites, the last thing he expected was a phone call. The phone started vibrating in his hand and he nearly dropped it. Shit! Who could be calling him? Probably the same person who always seemed to interrupt him at weird times; Frank. He’d probably done some PCP with Bill Ponderosa and was freaking out again or something. Charlie huffed out of frustration and picked up after a couple of rings. If he had to go talk Frank out of a toilet stall again... ❝ Hey Frank, I’ll have to call you back later buddy, kinda in the middle of something here. ❞ Charlie said quickly, without waiting to hear the voice on the other side. Despite being in his new, strange apartment he had seemingly forgotten he wasn’t in Philly anymore. 

[fillybustar]

baddestdangerboy‌:

If only he could read minds and know about these shit brows it would be a riot in itself. So he just watches Charlie touch his eyebrows and frown and look constipated. 

He waves a hand. “No, I mean I think the weird bullshit that happens here is tax payer dollars enough. They don’t take your organs one at a time in your sleep, they don’t milk your dingus in the night either to make more…yous….” Gross. 

At this point he’s pretty sure he’ll be funneling trash into the apartment, he predicts this. He knows a few stray cats that’ll help too.

Charlie made a face at the idea, looking at Badou like he was crazy for even thinking that. What a disgusting concept. He’d be honest though, given more time and he’d probably have thought of that himself.  ❝ Right, right, okay. We’re getting off-track here. I’m just gonna.. bite the bullet. I’m gonna bite the bullet. ❞ Charlie reached for the doorknob, twisting it to find it oddly already unlocked. He considered the fact that it might had already been ransacked, but his suspicions were quelled the moment he opened the door and saw everything in place, perfectly fine. His last apartment didn’t provide this many amenities, that’s for sure.  ❝ Woww, okay, yeah. Yeah! ❞ Charlie chuckled as he stepped a few feet into the room. It smelled clean, so clean. There was so much room; like, a ton more than his studio apartment had. He noticed the four rooms right off the bat. ❝ Four rooms, nice! So when the gang gets here, they each get one! ❞ Charlie grins, pleased with the discovery. One for Mac, one for Dennis, one for Dee, and one for Frank and himself. It was perfect. There was also two bathrooms and a deck, neither which he thought he’d have a use for but it was luxurious nonetheless!

[fillybustar]

baddestdangerboy·:

“You’re a shit brow at best,” Badou is not going to cut any corners here, he knows. He saw him huffing crap in an alley more than once it’s. He knows. 

It is a decent place. Not exactly five star? But apparently better than Charlie’s used to. 

“Look at it this way– you got a place. You don’t gotta pay rent. What’s wrong with taking advantage of what life throws down your alley?” That’s all you can do, that’s all Badou does. Takes it as it comes and all that. It’s not a bad start.

“Just…throw some trash in here if you feel uncomfortable. Keep the windows open constantly. Get some stray dogs.”

‘Shit brow’? Charlie furrowed his brows at the comment, slightly offended. How far down were his eyebrows on his face? That’s how classiness was gauged, right? Or-- wait-- was there shit on his eyebrows? He thought he cleaned up after the last sewer crawling. He touched his eyebrows unconsciously, feeling to make sure that they were indeed, not covered in shit.  ❝ Wait, rent-free? I’ve never heard of rent-free housing in my life. They gotta want something for it, right? ‘Cause landlords are greedy bastards. ❞ His last landlord, Hwang, was a prime example of this. Frank and Charlie had gotten into all kinds of disagreements with him in the past; the guy was like, uber greedy.  Charlie stared intently at the door. He still didn’t know about this, like, free housing sounded sweet and all, but... There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. Nothing was free. What did they want from him for it? His blood? His teeth? Would they spring a super late charge on him that he’d never be able to pay off?

[fillybustar]

baddestdangerboy·:

A deep, soulful sigh gusts out of the redhead. He can hardly believe this is what he’s dealing with…what did he do in a past life? 

“That’s the greeting,” he informs Charlie with little fanfare, only with weariness. Scrubs a hand through his hair. 

“Let’s go. Come on, move your ass.” If he can’t read english what does he do at American restaurants? (is he giving Charlie the benefit of the doubt? yes he is) All pickle and spicy chicken sandwiches look the same and are pretty much the same, though….that in mind, he continues their frog march to the apartment Charlie is now the proud owner of.

There wasn’t any resistance from Charlie as Badou lead onward to the apartment, if anything he was oddly quiet-- whether it be out of embarrassment or exhaustion from the adrenaline that had long died out. The apartment building was nice, waaay nicer than Charlie had ever lived in (unless you counted his mom’s small house), and he avoided eye contact with all passerby that gave them looks as they came in. The shame was sinking in. Charlie didn’t belong in a nice place like this, he was greatly out of his element here. He was poor, accustom to the squalor, barely considering himself-- or even feeling-- a human being at times. His neighbors back home-- they were all on drugs as well. What would his new neighbors think of it? Would they call the cops?  ❝ Look, man, I don’t really know about this... ❞ Charlie tugged on the collar of the bottom-most sweater that he wore. Was it hot in here? Probably, actually, yeah. He was used to the freezing cold in the streets, which had been greatly amplified by the insane amount of snow. He was becoming drenched in sweat.  ❝ I don’t belong in a place like this. I’m not really a ‘high-brow’ kinda guy? If anything I’m ‘medium-brow’ at the absolute best. ❞ What the hell was he talking about? He probably wasn’t using those expressions right. His heart thrummed harder in his chest as they stopped in-front of 344, his throat tightening up under the pressure. He couldn’t pay for this, he couldn’t afford this. Frank had to pay for the studio apartment most months, despite Charlie trying his best to half it any chance he could. Getting cut out of bar shares made a significant dent in his wallet. 

[melancholyandshoes]

[fyeahsweetmusic]

Visit Original Link

i got a land mine in my bloodline i’m not immune to getting blown apart