The Bowery Presents
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Hole
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Show & Tell
ojovivo
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d e v o n
roma★
bliss lane
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𓃗
taylor price
NASA
KIROKAZE
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One Nice Bug Per Day
Kiana Khansmith
gracie abrams
Noah Kahan
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Poland
seen from South Africa
seen from Malaysia
seen from South Africa
seen from Germany
seen from United States
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seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Netherlands
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@the-silver-reaper-blog
But you are REVVING ENGINE! How is not of wanting to let drive? I must TAKE YOU TO MEDVED. They will let in if I bring them TALKING CAR!
I am expressing my anger and distaste in the situation. *Tires start screeching before she takes off in an attempt to run over Tung*
WONDERFUL. Is true MARVEL of science and engineering! Now hold still, I must drive you. MUST DRIVE YOU. *starts trying to climb in through a window, assuming it's open*
Oh Pit no. *Door flies open in an attempt to throw Tung off* Riding inside of me is reserved for friends and some associates. You are neither. *Slams door and revs louder*
... You are fast car? SHOW ME. TUNG WANTS TO SEE.
I suppose I could indulge you before your imminent disemboweling. But after that I really must find my weaponry. *Transforms into altmode, a Lotus Elise, and revs her engine*
You are thing! Big... Cybertronian thing. Walked here. Thought of looking at thing, but am looking at bot instead. Was looking for fast car. FAST car.
I am a sentient being. >:I And for your information I am a fast car. Now if you excuse me, I must locate my weaponry.
WHAT is thing?! Is robot, da? Why is of looking so... purply? Is not of good color. Silver better.
...What. I am a Cybertronian, organic, and I am not purple. It is simply this lighting. How the frag did you even get here? I would suggest you give me a reason not to eviscerate you. Answer quickly. I am not known for my patience.
5, 22
5: Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)
For herself, mostly a quick once over with some cleanser. The occasional polish if she has the extra cash. For everything else... She lives a very Spartan lifestyle, so mostly DS just has some dusting to do. Unless she tracks energon into her ship.
22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
At first there would probably be just a lot of staring. Finally she'd probably write her name once or twice to get the hang of it again. After that Deadsilver would get bored and probably draw a bunch of diagonal lines everywhere until most of the paper was almost completely black. Probably stored and forgotten.
48: If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?
48: If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?
Seeing as Deadsilver is physically weak, such close quarters fighting, without a weapon, would be done with lots of running, dodging, flips, rolls, electrification, and the ripping out of eyes along with pretty much anything else she could get her talons around. She fights dirty.
☛ GET INSIDE YOUR CHARACTER'S HEAD! aka The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Meme
Ask a question, any question! Because I have nothing better to do than to answer your questions. ... No, really. I don't. D:
1: What does their bedroom look like?
2: Do they have any daily rituals?
3: Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?
4: What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?
5: Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)
6: Eating habits and sample daily menu
7: Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time
8: Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging
9: Makeup?
10: Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?
11: Intellectual pursuits?
12: Favorite book genre?
13: Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?
14: Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)
15: Biggest and smallest short term goal?
16: Biggest and smallest long term goal?
17: Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress
18: Favorite beverage?
19: What do they think about before falling asleep at night?
20: Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?
21: Turn-ons? Turn-offs?
22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
23: How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?
24: Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?
25: How do they see themselves 5 years from today?
26: Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?
27: What is their biggest regret?
28: Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?
29: Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)
30: Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)
31: Most prized possession?
32: Thoughts on material possessions in general?
33: Concept of home and family?
34: Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)
35: What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?
36: What makes them feel guilty?
37: Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?
38: What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?
39: Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?
40: How misanthropic are they?
41: Hobbies?
42: How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?
43: Religion?
44: Superstitions or views on the occult?
45: Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?
46: If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?
47: How do they express love?
48: If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?
49: Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?
OOC: Long absence
(So... Those of you still following me may have noticed I've been quiet for, like, ever. I have an explanation, I swear. First, I went on a hiatus cause I was feeling rather neutral about everything. Second, I was participating in a musical, so when I wasn't at school I was at rehearsal or just plain old too tired to do anything. And third, I've had finals, but I'm finally done with this semester.
Now the part where I screwed up: I forgot to make a post about my hiatus. Yeah... That was my bad. I've lost several followers during my inactivity and I would like to wish them well and apologize for being a forgetful derp and being boring. One of these days I'll be active on here again, I swear.
I might redo this blog... Make it more RPy than Asky. So yeah, just letting y'all know I'm not dead yet.
Have a good day!)
[ cloud overview ] [ get your own cloud ] This is a Tumblr Cloud I generated from my blog posts between Oct 2012 and Jan 2013 containing my top 20 used words. Top 1 blogs I reblogged the most:
(OOC: Hey y'all, college has already been kicking my butt. 18 hours compared to the 12 or less I'm used to. I swear I'll get back to the people I was talking/RPing with. I just... Need a little time. Sorry for any inconvenience.)
+askdeadsilver
mastersmayhem:
“Hmm? Oh, no. My TARDIS is a living machine. Nothing really artificial with her intelligence at all. Grew her from a tiny seed myself,” he said with pride, patting the box with a loving hand, “She’s still young and learning about herself.”
The Time Lord felt about for any other injuries that his ship might have sustained before sliding down, “She just might live longer than me,” he chuckled, “She’ll carry my children…and their children. Unless I don’t have children, that is…then she’ll find somewhere and just…die,” his tone was somber but brightened up again, “So…Cybertronian. I haven’t seen your lot out and about as much as I used to. And…what is with those strange symbols…the faces?” he cocked his head.
“Oh… I see. Excuse, did you say a seed?” Deadsilver asked, her expression one of surprised disbelief. Aliens were weird… So very weird… “Uh… Younglings? Your younglings? Wut…?” One optical ridge was raised comically as the other stayed in place, her mouth was also hanging open the slightest bit. That… That was… “I believe that was more information than I required to know…”
Younglings? No younglings, death? What the frag? His dampened mood quickly returned to enthusiasm. “Uh… I am sorry, I do not follow…” Of all the aliens she could have crashed into, it had to be one so fragging odd. “My facial expressions? If so… What the frag do you think?”
“Yes. TARDIS’ are grown…not exactly built, but grown,” he wiped his hands, “You did ask about her and I told you,” he smiled, “I’m not the most… social creature. I am still new to the…interactions. My people were an isolated lot. Didn’t care much for mingling with the other races out there.”
The Time Lord sighed, “Not many races liked us that much, truth be told. Didn’t care for them that much, either, myself,” he then pointed to his chest and did a strange motion, “Those…symbols on the armor. That look a lot like faces. What is that all about?”
“Well… I did not need to know about reproduction or slag like that…” Deadsilver closed her optics and pinched the bridge of her ‘nose’, which was really more like where a piece of her helm was situated between her optics. She didn’t have a nose.
“I suppose I can empathize. Social interaction is not something that I participate in often.” The silver femme nodded. “I see… Was their any reason for the dislike on either part? Besides xenophobia. If I may ask.” The last part had been tacked on, as a ‘polite’ after thought. The silver femme quirked an optical ridge when he started making some strange motions over his chest. “…Oh. The faction insignias. They are red and purple, yes?”
“Not to worry. My people don’t exactly reproduce anyway,” he smiled. It would be a complete lie if he said he wasn’t enjoying the robot’s discomfort. He nodded his head enthusiastically, “Yes, yes. Those. What are those all about?”
The Master folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head, “I must explain a little about my people. We were…obsessed with controlling Time. We kept the technology to ourselves and meddled in other species affairs as we saw fit. We were the cause of many a black hole…and then, we decided to withdraw to our world. Left the universe as it was. Just watchers.”
"Then... You know what, nevermind." The silver femme proceeded to pull off the double facepalm at this. How can a species not reproduce but keep going? Nothing made sense in this. Deadsilver decided that such things were just... Alien things, and that she shouldn't question them. Otherwise she'd be right back to clawing her helm or something along those lines in frustration. "They are insignias to determine which faction one is from and whether killing them would be friendly fire or not." Deadsilver put her servos on her hips. "My species is in a midst of a war between themselves."
For a few moments the young Cybertronian stared down at the organic Time Lord. "Your species... Meddled with time... And fragged slag up? Seriously?"
+askdeadsilver
mastersmayhem:
“Hmm? Oh, no. My TARDIS is a living machine. Nothing really artificial with her intelligence at all. Grew her from a tiny seed myself,” he said with pride, patting the box with a loving hand, “She’s still young and learning about herself.”
The Time Lord felt about for any other injuries that his ship might have sustained before sliding down, “She just might live longer than me,” he chuckled, “She’ll carry my children…and their children. Unless I don’t have children, that is…then she’ll find somewhere and just…die,” his tone was somber but brightened up again, “So…Cybertronian. I haven’t seen your lot out and about as much as I used to. And…what is with those strange symbols…the faces?” he cocked his head.
“Oh… I see. Excuse, did you say a seed?” Deadsilver asked, her expression one of surprised disbelief. Aliens were weird… So very weird… “Uh… Younglings? Your younglings? Wut…?” One optical ridge was raised comically as the other stayed in place, her mouth was also hanging open the slightest bit. That… That was… “I believe that was more information than I required to know…”
Younglings? No younglings, death? What the frag? His dampened mood quickly returned to enthusiasm. “Uh… I am sorry, I do not follow…” Of all the aliens she could have crashed into, it had to be one so fragging odd. “My facial expressions? If so… What the frag do you think?”
“Yes. TARDIS’ are grown…not exactly built, but grown,” he wiped his hands, “You did ask about her and I told you,” he smiled, “I’m not the most… social creature. I am still new to the…interactions. My people were an isolated lot. Didn’t care much for mingling with the other races out there.”
The Time Lord sighed, “Not many races liked us that much, truth be told. Didn’t care for them that much, either, myself,” he then pointed to his chest and did a strange motion, “Those…symbols on the armor. That look a lot like faces. What is that all about?”
"Well... I did not need to know about reproduction or slag like that..." Deadsilver closed her optics and pinched the bridge of her 'nose', which was really more like where a piece of her helm was situated between her optics. She didn't have a nose.
"I suppose I can empathize. Social interaction is not something that I participate in often." The silver femme nodded. "I see... Was their any reason for the dislike on either part? Besides xenophobia. If I may ask." The last part had been tacked on, as a 'polite' after thought. The silver femme quirked an optical ridge when he started making some strange motions over his chest. "...Oh. The faction insignias. They are red and purple, yes?"
He walks up to the bounty hunter and bows. "I'm glad to finally meet you. People call my Wanderer... I'm wondering if I could hire your services..."
Deadsilver dipped her helm in a respectful nod. "Wanderer. What is it you wish to hire me for?" She asked upon looking back up at the mech. She held her servos behind her back and waited for the answer.
+askdeadsilver
askdeadsilver:
Deadsilvers expression only soured more. It WAS her fault that they’d crashed, putting off recharge for so long and being forcibly put into stasis. “Ugh, fine. You have permission to come aboard. I will even offer assistance in repairs if you so desire.” The femme grumbled. No, she really didn’t want to, but she did have SOME sense of honor she liked to uphold.
“Let us just get this over with…”
The Master pattered through the commands, switching the TARDIS’ outward appearance from ‘garden shed’ to something more….’spacey’. He parked the ship into the cargo bay, stepping outside with his hands in his pockets. The Time Lord looked up at the femme with a smile on his face before turning his attentions to his ship, “Thank you for your hospitality, but I am quite able to fix her myself.”
The grumpy silver femme got up from her seat and quickly made her way to the cargo bay. Upon arrival she saw that the other ship was already well at home, placing her servos on her hips she looked down on the organic whose ship she had crashed into. It was a male, yes, of that she was sure. Nothing impressive, really, but curious nonetheless. It wasn’t like Deadsilver saw an organic every solarcycle, after all.
“You are welcome. I suppose it is the… Least I could do.” Deadsilver nodded at the so called ‘Master’. “Very well.” For several moments she simply stared, her sour expression slowly becoming more curious and even awkward. Deadsilver rolled a ped on the floor at a moderate speed, still watching her ‘guest’.
The TARDIS made adjustments wherever the Master needed them, helping her Time Lord search her outer hull for any damages. Still rather young, the Master did not leave the repairs to her alone. He went over the outside with a, figurative, fine-toothed comb.
The Master mumbled to the TARDIS, where to send patches and how much to patch. It was a strange sight, to one who did not understand the relationship between the Time Lord and his ship. The strange utterances in a, now dead, language and the tiny beeps from the TARDIS.
Deadsilver watched the Master go over his ship, muttering to it in some unknown language. The silver femme could find no trace of it in any lingual database she had access to. It was either an old tongue, a dead tongue, or both. Probably both. Tilting her head to the side she took notice that the ship reacted almost immediately to it’s owner and even appeared to answer back in series of ‘beeps’.
“Your ship. Does it have an AI of sorts?” Such things, while not unheard of, were not… Well… Exactly wanted. AI ships could develop minds of their own and decide they didn’t like what they did. Or worse, didn’t like their pilot or crew. For a moment, Deadsilver reflected on a rumor she’d heard. About a project ‘Omega’, giant artificially created Cybertronians with the processing abilities of a youngling. She wondered if it was really true.
“Hmm? Oh, no. My TARDIS is a living machine. Nothing really artificial with her intelligence at all. Grew her from a tiny seed myself,” he said with pride, patting the box with a loving hand, “She’s still young and learning about herself.”
The Time Lord felt about for any other injuries that his ship might have sustained before sliding down, “She just might live longer than me,” he chuckled, “She’ll carry my children…and their children. Unless I don’t have children, that is…then she’ll find somewhere and just…die,” his tone was somber but brightened up again, “So…Cybertronian. I haven’t seen your lot out and about as much as I used to. And…what is with those strange symbols…the faces?” he cocked his head.
"Oh... I see. Excuse, did you say a seed?" Deadsilver asked, her expression one of surprised disbelief. Aliens were weird... So very weird... "Uh... Younglings? Your younglings? Wut...?" One optical ridge was raised comically as the other stayed in place, her mouth was also hanging open the slightest bit. That... That was... "I believe that was more information than I required to know..."
Younglings? No younglings, death? What the frag? His dampened mood quickly returned to enthusiasm. "Uh... I am sorry, I do not follow..." Of all the aliens she could have crashed into, it had to be one so fragging odd. "My facial expressions? If so... What the frag do you think?"
IMPORTANT!
I have a massive favor to ask all of you. Please take just two minutes out of your busy days to do this. I’m asking for honesty, and for your empathy.
If you have ever, in your entire roleplaying career, been intimidated to go up to someone to ask for a roleplay, please like or reblog this post. If you have ever considered giving up roleplaying because you felt like a bother to people, or like you were being ignored, please like or reblog this post. If you have ever thought your roleplaying wasn’t good enough, or compared your rping to someone else’s and felt you weren’t as good as them, please like or reblog this post.
It’s just one click. One moment of honesty. And it could possibly prove a very big point to someone incredibly special to me that I don’t want to lose.
I’d be even more honored if you could share some words of encouragement about your struggles with roleplay, to let them know they’re not alone.
Thank you.
Okay…So I have about 336 people following me…. I follow about 234 blogs… I have about…er….five people seriously threading with me…
Some math isn’t adding up here.
So, I have a couple of classes tomorrow, taking up most of my afternoon, and then I have to go and buy supplies for my art classes.
So, here’s the fucking deal. You have to LIKE or REBLOG or this fucking post or MESSAGE ME by about…9:00 EST tomorrow or I’m unfollowing.
(I do want to still thread with you. We had a thread going and when I didn't see any reply for awhile I kinda felt like I would be bothering you if I asked. >< I'm sorry. I'm trying to get over that this year, I'm sorry again.)
