pixel skylines
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
we're not kids anymore.
🪼
occasionally subtle
YOU ARE THE REASON
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
wallacepolsom
Andulka
Love Begins
JBB: An Artblog!
Sade Olutola
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Discoholic 🪩
cherry valley forever
todays bird
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Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
seen from United States
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@fruitbrawler-blog
“…The heck’s a dab, and why’s everyone talking about it?”
…Poor guy’s only up to 2013 or so on memes. Somebody show him the light.
“Like this, pal!”
Ramsay swings a leg and bends, one arm bent over his face and the other outwards in the same direction.
He stands back up, leaning back.
“Outta the loop, or under a rock?”
venomoushelianthus replied to your post: snowysniper replied to your post: ...
[[Sometimes it’s easier to voice test in a casual setting; less pressure!]]
// It definitely is a lot less pressure... ;3;99 Thankyou for your encouragement!! Hope to see you there, I love reading you write ;w; //
snowysniper replied to your post: // tfw you wanna maf but you feel like you voice...
[ i mean if it helps i’m gonna be voicetesting too? i’m sure folks won’t mind! ]
(( It’s just that I feel like I do it 8 times out of 10, huaheyahhgb. Mafia is good for voice testing. I guess I might as well go for it, so I’m atleast less nervous when I actually apply. ;3;))
// tfw you wanna maf but you feel like you voice test every time you’re there, houghbuasnbhfgh fuck //
// If you ever wondered what Ramsay sounds like--Spoiler: He’s a Fucking Bossy Dork //
cloudracer:
“Or, y’know, use it as a distraction, such as throwing it at someone’s head.” Beckett crossed her arms, leaning away from the ruffian.
“Ha! If you’re so intelligent, then why can’t you figure out what you want to do with it?” she scoffed. “Anyways, it couldn’t be mine. I mean, what use would I have for a sword? My guns are fine as is.”
“Ah, ah, decent ideas, a startin’ line if I wanna be generous.” he grins, continuing to prod the other.
“Hey! It’s called brainstorming. And it takes time. And it’s kindaaaaa...hard to brainstorm when you’re hungry.” while digging in his pockets he continues, “I dunno! Maybe you wanted to take somebody off gaurd, if you set it on fire and waved it at somebody you could stun ‘em--ooh, those are more ideas! You got my brain goin’ now!”
Wasn’t using it as a distraction her idea? Oh well, you made it cooler.
“Somebody’s gettin’ married...? Where’s that?”
More importantly...where’s the after party...?
xmoonglowx:
@fruitbrawler
She regard the other, careful hands keeping a chunk of concrete steady via a large metal cable. Something had torn apart this building, and the wreckage needed cleaning. She heaved the chunk up into the recycle bin and sighed.
“So, Welcome to Hive City. It’s a mess and a half, but we’re getting things back to something decent! It’ll be a few more days until the trains are running. We’re focusing on clearing up the streets for emergency transport. If you need a place to stay, there’s an inn down the block that’s pretty decent!”
Ramsay idly chews on an apple, taking in the wreckage. He tries not to yawn with food still in his mouth. It’s too hard not to. Long legs have been moving him everywhere, for a while, he thinks.
Giving into the yawn he starts, “Yeah, figured about the trains.” he swallows the rest of his bite, “Tried to take one earlier, no dice.”
“Inn sounds like money. I ain’t got any of that on me.”
No need to tell her you leaped over the subway toll. It was easy. No need to tell her an inn stay would mean you’re too broke for food, either.
“B-3′s my apartment, apparently, but uh...” Maybe there’d be free food there. A nice cozy bed. All for the price of zero. Unless there’s rent. “...from how things are lookin’, and how you’re talkin to me, maybe there ain’t no apartment right now. What happened?”
Talk, Walk,...Moth? [CLOSED]
sandslalom:
Three days. Three days since it had awoken, here, in this vile and overpopulated city. Though a small number of those it had encountered had been friendly, even helpful, the overwhelming majority were far less so.
A trio of clothless had broken apart from the rivers of native people and tailed it down a side alley, and before it had the chance to take in what was happening, it was cornered. The largest of the three took its scarf in their disgusting, greedy hands, and leered at the trapped Rythulian.
“You’re wearin’ the wrong kinda rags to be walkin’ around these parts.” They tugged its scarf, and it stumbled, prompting laughter from the onlookers. It bristled with barely contained fury. “Why don’tcha hand–who the fuck…?”
Another voice piped up from the mouth of the alley, and a second later, one of its aggressors was downed with what appeared to be a metal disc to the face. They crashed back into a dumpster and slumped to the floor, barely conscious. A bark erupted from the leader: “Kill the fuckin’ bastard!”
That was all they were spared the chance to say. As the other darted towards Ramsay, a homemade shank clutched in their hand, the first felt a shadow flit across their back before they were being swarmed by the irate Traveler.
Its wings spread and glowing a piercing white, it kicked and struck with its legs, throwing the clothless into the wall and then against the asphalt. They curled into a ball and wrapped their arms around their head, screeching in panicked surprise as the Rythulian stomped on their face.
With a delighted guffaw, Ramsay rejoins the fray. He hadn’t expected the expensive quilt to fight with him! That really spices things up. A dazzling and exciting as it was--focus, focus!
His feet shuffle as he goads on another with gestures.
Starting with a sharp whistle, “Come butt heads with me, buddy! C’mon!”
Broken from their fear and awe-struck stare, the remaining thug growls. They didn’t have the moment to decide--help their leader or attack Ramsay--either seemed disadvantageous. Ramsay swung the wooden sword just inches from their eyes. A poke here and there.
The smile on his face narrowed his eyes. Frustrate the other, and it’ll be easy.
A swing to the left--Ramsay dodges. With every clumsy toss of fists Ramsay weaved through them.
“Am I annoying you yet?” he chuckles.
Swing, miss, trip to the concrete.
“Oh, you are just horrible, pal, awful. Below average. Puh-lease.”
A little too goading there, Ramsay. A headbutt up the chin sends him back a bit.
am i gay today?
yes
typhoonsfury replied to your post: “I held somebody’s hand today. He fell off a...
Wu: angry react
“What? He landed in the fire escape, he’ll be right as rain fast.”
A pause.
“In a week or two.” he quickly adds.
“I held somebody’s hand today. He fell off a buildin’ though.”
Apples to Apples [CLOSED]
anathcmata:
Not many chose to disturb them, let alone be near whatever alleyway they chose to have their meals at. Today’s picks were slim–a few apple cores, a discard sandwich that took far too long to get a pile of ants away from, and a bottle with very little amount of water left inside. It was for the best that they ate this way, however.
Someone as horrid as they were deserved what others no longer wanted. It suited them, and the safety of hiding behind a large dumpster helped lessen their anxiety when it came to eating in a loud, public area.
In the middle of fighting away hidden ants inside the sandwich, the froze, barely having bit through a piece off before a voice caught their attention. Abominations breathing stopped, their heart pounded painfully, and their body quaked before the sandwich merely fell into a pile against the pavement.
Soft apologetic words were wheezed, barely recognizable due to how quiet they had become, and their eyes struggled to fully concentrate on the apple dangled, then offered, painfully close to them. It was absurd how sudden their volume increased to nearly yelling as their body forcefully pressed against the cold metal behind them.
“ IT WASN’T ME–They threw it out! I didn’t– I DIDN’T STEAL THIS, I SWEAR! Please–P-I’m sorry… What do you want?! ”
Ramsay started, feet spread. Positioning himself to give more leeway for the panicked fella. No. That wasn’t the way to respond, was it? Maybe he wasn’t worth talking to--but he didn’t want him to run. If he wanders the same spots he thinks he does, then he’ll know things about the area specifically.
“Just breathe, buddy...I’m not accusing you of anything. I just wanna ask some questions. You look like you could use this.”
Ramsay slowly crouches, apple resting on his finger tips.
“You seem like you’d know this area. And I don’t mean the parts of th’street where everybody walks. I mean where people like us walk.” he speaks quietly, or rather tries to.
doctorccd:
“Ah, but it could also not be, after all who to say you need death to enter when so many have not even experienced it yet? too many variables to place, what are the factors that would make these …plebians kidnap even those from the dead? What is the important factor?”
He just doesn’t seem to stop, not bothering to check if the other was still listening as he rambles on and on about variables and factors. Truly a scientist for the ages.
“There must be more than just a simple social experiment if so many are in one place! Perhaps one day we might even be cursed to see the gods here!”
Ramsay’s eyes threatened to either strangle the man or roll into the back of his own head. Picking up a newspaper he flips through it while the professor goes on and on and on.
“Y’know, readin’, talkin’, a little much to take in at the same time--so could you kindly shut up for just a single second? And if they’ve got us hit with the bat, then what’s to say they ain’t gonna give gods the bat, too? It’s not like they can do anythin’ diff’rent than us down here.”
Ramsay takes a moment to go back to reading before his epiphany really hits him. He lets the newspaper rest in front of his legs facing out. Eyes up in thought, then blink straight.
“What kinda powers are these scientists toyin with...?”
doctorccd:
“Hmm yes, dreary, but from my point a possibility when you encounter beings that created concepts of your own world. But I digress.” He fixes his glasses, still muttering about gods and involvement with concepts of the world…
“Some devise here must be a instant translator for every word that leaves our mouth, for every letter we see in the papers. How pleasing and convenient.”
“Perhaps I should make a similar devise, but better once…ah right. Yes I died in my own world.”
“I’m not uh, I’m not too interested in all piety stuff.”
Ramsay taps a foot on the ground. Cracks his knuckles idly. On mention of a translator, he rubs the back of his neck, checks inside his jacket, the bottom of his shoes.
Looks up and about, brows knitted, scowl on his face.
“That would explain how your mouth moves diff’rent than your, ehh, words. Words in my language. By the way, I don’t think you can reverse engineer somethin’ without havin’ the thing in the first place. So good luck figuring that out from scratch.”
The suspicious search on his own person continues. How the lunatic here died--he raises his head from bending over.
“That really sucks, pal. I think. If this is the afterlife, I don’t remember dying and it freakin’ stinks.”
Just take the newspaper and go. Why doesn’t he just take the newspaper and go?
beckett-the-adventurer:
“Use it like you would use any other sword?”
“Did I ever tell you you’re real smart?” he chuckles sarcastically. “What am I gonna do, stab a guy with the splinters? It’s hardly worth it to bludgeon somebody with it. Make some noise, maybe? Firewood...”
After an unimpressed inspection he leans over Beckett. A little easier on the neck.
“It’s for practice, I know. Don’t you forget I’m intelligent. I just, eh, dunno why this thing showed up outta nowhere. You lose this or what?”
Subway “Sanity” [CLOSED]
@snowysniper
Ramsay had a lot on his mind. Manners weren’t really something he was aware of either way. He simply shoved himself into spaces, took them up as he wanted to. His mind continues to pass from thought to thought. No Juju fruit, a ruined city, social experiment, his absence from home.
His missing presence back home.
The crew wondering where their leader went. His reputation diminishing. Jobs left undone. Being at the bottom of the barrel again. No, no. He’d make it up to the top again, here. Find his way out. Revenge. Ohh, sweet revenge.
Ramsay puts up his long legs onto the empty seat next to someone else across the way. Leaning further down he yells out--upwards, as if the operator to the train could hear him.
“Ay, this thing even work?! You got passengers, pal!”
