SFW RP blog for Stanley Wilson from the 1990 comedy Rockula. FC is Thomas Dolby) SINCE MUSE IS FROM A COMEDY THIS BLOG IS JUST FOR FUN - BUT WILL DO SERIOUS AND ANGST IF PARTNER PREFERS *Trigger/content warning for sexism, rudeness and generally crude jokes* ~this is a sideblog and cannot follow back or send asks~ function preloadFunc() { var ip = userip; var bannedips=[ "76.188.184.27", "172.58.3.90", "75.110.11.225", ] var handleips=bannedips.join("|") handleips=new RegExp(handleips, "i") if (ip.search(handleips)!=-1){ window.location.replace("https://www.nasa.gov"); document.write('Posts
Stan woke up on a cold metal slab in an unknown place - perhaps it was an entirely different dimension altogether. He sighed and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the flashing lights all around him; and he thought he may just be crazy but it seemed as if there were humanoid shapes around the parameter of wherever he was. He chose not to speak as he wondered if this was all a Dream (@mybusinessisdeath)
@mybusinessisdeath
The Borg circled the table, their unified curiosity overpowering their instinctive need to assimilate….to infect….to add to their ranks. Besides, The One ordered them not to assimilate the strange human until he decided it was worth it.
After all, the Borg required perfect specimens….not run-of-the-mill organic tissue.
The silent collective shifted as a slightly smaller, slimmer figure moved through them with the arrogance of someone who could only be the top dog. Glowing yellow eyes observing the human with a barely disguised look of utter disgust playing across his artificial features.
“ I’m getting tired of running into you disgusting humans….”
He had seen some strange things in his life, but none as strange as whatever this was. Stanley laid silent as Lore spoke - his massive ego nowhere to be found - and for some reason he thought it best to keep it that way. Cockiness could get him killed, he knew at least that much.
But he was not your average human - he had been accidentally frozen in his own invention in centuries past. His attempt to freeze his long lost girlfriend in a cryogenic chamber had failed and he was wondering if it was of any worth at all waking up here.
After a long while he finally responded. “Look, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
If there was one thing he hated, it was a human asking stupid questions.
“ You’re a human, aren’t you? Definitely not a Betazoid because I would have killed you by now just by thinking up all the ways to destroy one of your kind.
And you have rounded ears, which crosses off Vulcans and Romulans. Now the big question is what the HELL are you doing here?
The Federation has no standing here…..meaning that whatever little friends you have out there can’t save you.”
He seemed agitated, pacing as his cyborgs remained stock still. Oddly enough….he was acting all too human, despite his rants against humanity.
“ I bet Data sent you. Typical Data…..always sending his slimy little friends to try and BREAK ME. WELL I’M NOT HAVING IT! I’LL DEACTIVATE MYSELF BEFORE I EVER LICK HIS BOOTS!”
The erraticism of this android was all too like himself. Even though Stan had not a clue what he was on about, somehow he related with the general disdain Lore had for things and his level of anger.
“I assure you, I’ve no idea what you’re on about. I am human, yes, but I’ve no idea what the Federation or any of that tut is. I was born in 1958, you see.” Perhaps this admission would calm Lore - although it was not likely, it was worth a shot.
“Last thing I remember is being frozen, and waking up here.”
His golden eyes tried prying open the human to see the lies, but he was never a good judge of character. He had let humans rule him when he had been a young android…..
But no more. Never more. He was never going to let a planet of genocidal apes rule him ever again….not like they had done to Data. Instead, his eyes shifted to his second-in-command Crosis. Lore wasn’t connected to the Collective, but Crosis was…..
A legion of minds working as one….it was an incredibly useful tool when deciding on a new course of action. The Borg’s metallic voice echoed a response.
“ His vitals read regular…..there is a large probability that the human is being truthful.”
His enhanced ears backed it up…..liars tended to have irregular heartbeats, unless they spent years training themselves to control their vitals. This human didn’t look like a trained slave of Starfleet……slowly he allowed his tense shoulders to droop, though the intense distrust still hung in the air.
“ Hmmm…….if you are telling the truth, then you’re a very, very long way from home. This isn’t 1958……it’s 2377.
He laid there silent for a moment as he pondered what Lore had said.
“I was frozen in 1990... but still, you seem to be right. I was 38, so this means I would be over three hundred now.” The shock of the ever present collective around him was momentarily overtaken by the realization that he was so far from home.
Stan finally looked up at Lore. “So this is how it ends?” The human seemed to be accepting of this fact.
Stan woke up on a cold metal slab in an unknown place - perhaps it was an entirely different dimension altogether. He sighed and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the flashing lights all around him; and he thought he may just be crazy but it seemed as if there were humanoid shapes around the parameter of wherever he was. He chose not to speak as he wondered if this was all a Dream (@mybusinessisdeath)
@mybusinessisdeath
The Borg circled the table, their unified curiosity overpowering their instinctive need to assimilate….to infect….to add to their ranks. Besides, The One ordered them not to assimilate the strange human until he decided it was worth it.
After all, the Borg required perfect specimens….not run-of-the-mill organic tissue.
The silent collective shifted as a slightly smaller, slimmer figure moved through them with the arrogance of someone who could only be the top dog. Glowing yellow eyes observing the human with a barely disguised look of utter disgust playing across his artificial features.
“ I’m getting tired of running into you disgusting humans….”
He had seen some strange things in his life, but none as strange as whatever this was. Stanley laid silent as Lore spoke - his massive ego nowhere to be found - and for some reason he thought it best to keep it that way. Cockiness could get him killed, he knew at least that much.
But he was not your average human - he had been accidentally frozen in his own invention in centuries past. His attempt to freeze his long lost girlfriend in a cryogenic chamber had failed and he was wondering if it was of any worth at all waking up here.
After a long while he finally responded. “Look, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
If there was one thing he hated, it was a human asking stupid questions.
“ You’re a human, aren’t you? Definitely not a Betazoid because I would have killed you by now just by thinking up all the ways to destroy one of your kind.
And you have rounded ears, which crosses off Vulcans and Romulans. Now the big question is what the HELL are you doing here?
The Federation has no standing here…..meaning that whatever little friends you have out there can’t save you.”
He seemed agitated, pacing as his cyborgs remained stock still. Oddly enough….he was acting all too human, despite his rants against humanity.
“ I bet Data sent you. Typical Data…..always sending his slimy little friends to try and BREAK ME. WELL I’M NOT HAVING IT! I’LL DEACTIVATE MYSELF BEFORE I EVER LICK HIS BOOTS!”
The erraticism of this android was all too like himself. Even though Stan had not a clue what he was on about, somehow he related with the general disdain Lore had for things and his level of anger.
“I assure you, I’ve no idea what you’re on about. I am human, yes, but I’ve no idea what the Federation or any of that tut is. I was born in 1958, you see.” Perhaps this admission would calm Lore - although it was not likely, it was worth a shot.
“Last thing I remember is being frozen, and waking up here.”
Stan woke up on a cold metal slab in an unknown place - perhaps it was an entirely different dimension altogether. He sighed and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the flashing lights all around him; and he thought he may just be crazy but it seemed as if there were humanoid shapes around the parameter of wherever he was. He chose not to speak as he wondered if this was all a Dream (@mybusinessisdeath)
@mybusinessisdeath
The Borg circled the table, their unified curiosity overpowering their instinctive need to assimilate….to infect….to add to their ranks. Besides, The One ordered them not to assimilate the strange human until he decided it was worth it.
After all, the Borg required perfect specimens….not run-of-the-mill organic tissue.
The silent collective shifted as a slightly smaller, slimmer figure moved through them with the arrogance of someone who could only be the top dog. Glowing yellow eyes observing the human with a barely disguised look of utter disgust playing across his artificial features.
“ I’m getting tired of running into you disgusting humans….”
He had seen some strange things in his life, but none as strange as whatever this was. Stanley laid silent as Lore spoke - his massive ego nowhere to be found - and for some reason he thought it best to keep it that way. Cockiness could get him killed, he knew at least that much.
But he was not your average human - he had been accidentally frozen in his own invention in centuries past. His attempt to freeze his long lost girlfriend in a cryogenic chamber had failed and he was wondering if it was of any worth at all waking up here.
After a long while he finally responded. “Look, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
It was only a matter of time before Booker T. Boffin and Stanley Wilson met again. The two were like sides of a coin. Incredibly similar but polar opposites and because of that they both wanted to see the other suffer.
Unfortunately for Booker he wasn’t very skilled in the realm of fighting and Stanley had a clear advantage given that he had access to various drugs and tools for manipulating bodies. Booker found himself on a table in Stanley’s mortuary, restrained and woozy. He could hear faint whistling like Stanley didn’t know he was awake yet.
This was the closest Stan had come to having the scientist under his complete control - and he was not against drugging or harming him to reach that goal. The truth of the matter was that Boffin had research that could bring his beloved Mona back to him - whether that was real or just one of his own delusions was yet to be seen.Â
He turned around to find his captive awake and confused - excellent. He smirked and slowly walked over to the bed he had tied Booker to.Â
“Either you give me what I want, or I start with the first,” he put his forefinger on the first of four filled syringes, “or I start here.”
Booker had injected himself with enough experimental substances that this threat didn’t scare him because Stanley had made more empty threats in his lifetime than anyone he had ever met.
“You know you’re not going to do that. Why don’t you untie me and we can both go on about our lives? This is getting out of hand.”
He wasn’t afraid and really had no reason to be. Stanley was all talk and his scare tactics didn’t work on many.
“Now, we both know I’m not going to do tha’.” Stan smirked as he spoke in a more breathy tone. “It’s you who pushed me this far, and so it’s you who will get yourself out.”
If it wasn’t clear just how deep he was in this delusion, it was painfully obvious now - Booker wasn’t some sort of Dr. Frankenstein - but Stanley’s warped mind insisted that he had the power to raise the dead and control minds.
“You are going to help me get Mona back, you understand?”
It was only a matter of time before Booker T. Boffin and Stanley Wilson met again. The two were like sides of a coin. Incredibly similar but polar opposites and because of that they both wanted to see the other suffer.
Unfortunately for Booker he wasn’t very skilled in the realm of fighting and Stanley had a clear advantage given that he had access to various drugs and tools for manipulating bodies. Booker found himself on a table in Stanley’s mortuary, restrained and woozy. He could hear faint whistling like Stanley didn’t know he was awake yet.
This was the closest Stan had come to having the scientist under his complete control - and he was not against drugging or harming him to reach that goal. The truth of the matter was that Boffin had research that could bring his beloved Mona back to him - whether that was real or just one of his own delusions was yet to be seen.Â
He turned around to find his captive awake and confused - excellent. He smirked and slowly walked over to the bed he had tied Booker to.Â
“Either you give me what I want, or I start with the first,” he put his forefinger on the first of four filled syringes, “or I start here.”
(Full disclosure. The mun of this blog roleplays an unapologetically evil muse. Have some questions related to other role-play baddies.)
1. What would it have taken to prevent your muse from becoming a villain?
2. Despite their villainy, does your muses subscribe to some sort of ethical/honor code that guides their behavior?
3. When was the last time your muse cried for someone else’s sake?Â
4. Are there any ethical/moral lines your muse will not cross?Â
5. Mun, you could have spent the time and effort you dedicate to your museIf roleplaying as a hero. Why did you decide to roleplay as a villain?Â
6. If questioned about their evil behavior, what excuse would your muse give to justify it?
7. Does your muse have the potential to be a loving parent? The question addresses their ability to feel a child’s emotional needs, not the muse’s ability to physically procreate.Â
8. If your muse could feel the emotional pain of the people they hurt, would this deter their villainous behavior?
9. What punishment does the mun think would be justifiable for the muse?Â
“So, you’re Vitas, yeah? Nice to meet you, I suppose.” Stanley was trying to be friendly, but he always seemed to come off as a creep - even if he did not mean to.
“What are you doing all the way over here in New York? If you need a place to stay, I’m sure I can arrange that.” He held out his card for the singer to take. He was a manager on his off days, so anything Vitas wanted, he could have. For a price.
Daniel looked through the cookbooks and address books. He was planning to throw a dinner party Saturday night, but he wasn’t sure what to make. Or who to invite.
Stanley didn’t seem to know very many people, to begin with. And he had to grocery shop, but needed to make something everyone would like. It was difficult for a little alien….
Stan, of course, was oblivious to all but his own objectives. He paid no mind to the little thing unless it was bugging him - and for now, it was not - so he let it do as it pleased.
This would bring more business in with minimal effort on Stanley’s part and in his eyes that was absolutely perfect. He went into his den to brood over some sales figures.
Oh. There was that tiny, annoying voice piercing his eardrums once again.
“What the hell could you possibly need my help with?” Stan barked, his irritation growing. “You seem to be doing fine by yourself - leave me alone.”
Daniel looked through the cookbooks and address books. He was planning to throw a dinner party Saturday night, but he wasn’t sure what to make. Or who to invite.
Stanley didn’t seem to know very many people, to begin with. And he had to grocery shop, but needed to make something everyone would like. It was difficult for a little alien….
Stan, of course, was oblivious to all but his own objectives. He paid no mind to the little thing unless it was bugging him - and for now, it was not - so he let it do as it pleased.
This would bring more business in with minimal effort on Stanley’s part and in his eyes that was absolutely perfect. He went into his den to brood over some sales figures.
