a pretty messed up loser guy

this is a non-serious multimuse rp blog. i only write tops

[worstrper]

stupid muselist

clark kent ( reeve films + kingdom come elseworlds )

davos seaworth ( a song of ice and fire )

gared tuttle ( telltale’s game of thrones )

homelander ( the boys tv series )

john doggett ( the x-files )

kendall knight ( big time rush )

maxwell lord ( dc extended universe )

reed strucker ( the gifted )

ren serizawa ( legendary pictures’ godzilla )

rip hunter ( dc’s legends of tomorrow )

rodrik forrester ( telltale’s game of thrones )

sam wilson ( marvel cinematic )

sunny ( into the badlands )

takeshi mimura ( OC ; bio here )

tony stark ( marvel cinematic - paramount films only* ) * tony’s characterisation will be consistent with IM1, IM2, avengers, and IM3 only, but i can adapt to the events of the disney MCU films as necessary.

i don’t have rules this whole blog is just a cosmic joke. just remember IC =/= OOC and we should be good to go. also this is a sideblog so i can’t follow people back byeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[thequantumranger]

Resident Evil Challenge

[5] Costumes | 5/5 - Chris in a turtleneck.

[rpmemesource]

a list of don’t sentence starters :

❝ don’t you dare touch him/her. ❞

❝ don’t look at me like that; like i matter to you. ❞

❝ i don’t understand why you’re acting this way. ❞

❝ don’t say that to me, [NAME]. not you, of all people. ❞

❝ what i don’t understand is how you can be so nonchalant in this situation. ❞

❝ please don’t make me go. ❞

❝ i don’t want to leave yet. ❞

❝ why don’t you just stay the night ? ❞

❝ don’t you love me anymore ? ❞

❝ no, you don’t understand. ❞

❝ you could, but you just don’t want to. ❞

❝ no matter what happens, don’t forget about me. ❞

❝ don’t say that you love me. ❞

❝ how can i live with myself if i don’t at least try to save you ? ❞

❝ don’t you know better than that by now ? ❞

❝ i don’t want anything to do with you anymore. ❞

❝ i don’t want to live a life without you in it. ❞

❝ your mind games don’t work on me. ❞

❝ i don’t want anything to happen to you. ❞

❝ please don’t miss me once i’m gone. ❞

❝ don’t go breaking my heart. ❞

❝ i don’t think anyone could love you the way i do. ❞

❝ you really don’t understand how much you mean to me, do you ? ❞

❝ i don’t want to die. ❞

❝ now don’t assume that this suddenly means we’re friends. ❞

❝ i don’t want you to be with anyone else. ❞

❝ don’t touch that, it’s valuable ! ❞

❝ ’ just friends ’ don’t look at each other like that. ❞

❝ please don’t cry. ❞

❝ don’t we deserve a happy ending ? ❞

[eurodynamic-archive]

“Goddammit, when does it end?” “What’s that, sir? The mission?” “All of it.”

[worstrper]

noxhero​:

Timothy sighs deeply in relief. When he overhears him using the words survivor and escort a large smile spreads over his face. He’s being rescued! There’s that luck, finally! Another horrible death avoided. He wonders if there’s a record on that. “ Oh yes ! “ He cheers aloud in barely contained excitement.

He’s grateful to have the gun returned, it’s not a very good one, but just having some kind of weapon on him makes him feel at least somewhat competent. “ Sure can , cupcake . “ He replies, cringing at his own words as soon as they leave his mouth. “ Uh . Sorry - I mean , uh . Yeah . “ This guy is rescuing you, he tells himself, the least you can do is not be weird.

“ I used to be an engineer at Hyperion - actually . “ He tells him instead, understanding the doubt he’s casting at his capabilities he demonstrates his expertise by handling the gun, putting the safety off, taking out the ammo, cocking it, uncocking it, but as he goes to put the ammo back in, his right hand fumbles and malfunctions and the magazine clatters to the ground with a pained shout. 

Embarassed, he bends down to pick up the ammo. “ Sorry - er - I’m fine . Ready to be rescued . This planet seems like a hell hole , can you help me get off ? “ He asks, hits his right hand with his left to get it working again and then puts the gun back together.

Hyperion isn’t a name he’s happy to hear, but Chris doesn’t hold the man’s past against him. It’s not nearly as concerning as the fact he dropped the magazine of his own weapon.

Maybe he’ll be safer without it. (Maybe he’ll throw a fit if Chris takes it.)

“Yeah,” he finally settles on saying, “I’ll get you out of here.”

And maybe find someone to get a look at that hand while they’re at it.

“My name’s Chris,” he tells him, giving the room a quick sweep before his gaze returns to the other man. “I’m gonna keep you safe, but you have to stay close, all right? Don’t wander off. Don’t panic.”

He offers a quick, wry smile. “I got you.”

With that, Chris gets his rifle back in position, the weapon firm in both his hands, and tells his team he’s preparing to move back out of the building. The building itself still has power, but with the fluorescent bulbs above flicking on and off in periodic beats, Chris keeps the flashlight on his rifle on. He walks in easy, even steps down a hall he’s already cleared (dead bodies are scattered on the floor), and listens closely both for the footsteps of his companion and whatever else might be lurking.

Opening the door to the emergency stairwell brings with it the echoes of groaning undead, and Chris holds up a fist to tell the other man to wait. He points his rifle up, spotting a few zombies lumbering, then points it back down. He’s fortunate in that they’re spread out, but if the ones upstairs think of going down, they’ll be able to get to the civilian first...

“All right,” Chris mutters, more to himself than anything.

Then he steps back, shutting the door to the stairwell once more to acknowledge his charge. “Here’s the plan. You and I are gonna go downstairs as quietly as possible, and then I’m gonna take out the zombies on the first floor. There’re three more in the upper stairway, separate, but these things don’t move fast, so we should be able to get out before they surround us.

“Just in case, though, I need you to be ready to shoot if I ask. Can you do that?”

[alpharedfield]

“It’s not over.”

[amell]

i have evil powers to be evil

[entreri]

[romanoffscaptain]

[noxhero]

starter for @worstrper because I love him

To Timothy’s own dismay, cowering in the corner of an abandoned building clutching an almost empty Hyperion handgun is a very familiar position for the doppelganger. He’d thought himself finally free of all the running for his life and getting almost murdered in the streets but apparently the universe just likes to batter him down no matter how far he goes, or how safe he thinks he is.

Of course, of course the first planet he lands on would be invested with freaking zombies. Just when he’d thought that maybe, getting a planet in view right when his fuel was about to run out meant luck was finally on his side for once. He should’ve known better.

If there is some kind of god, they must really be laughing their ass off right now.

A noise behind the door brings his attention back to the miserable situation at hand. A yelp that might as well have embarassed him to death if there were anyone there to witness it escaped him as he brought his gun up, pointing it at the door. He wills his right hand to just stop shaking. He’s not a bad shot usually, but this new prosthetic is more scrap than it’s worth. The pain of losing the limb still fresh in his mind.

Another, similar yelp follows when the door slams open. The man that enters is distinctly not one of those crazy looking psycho-zombies, but he is carrying a gun that puts Timothy’s own at shame. Without a second thought he quickly drops his own gun and raises his hands. “ Don’t shoot ! Plea - please don’t shoot ! “ He yells, his (Jack’s) voice a high pitched plea. “ I’m not one of them ! I swear ! “

[worstrper]

Zombies don’t yelp.

It’s the stupidest thing Chris has ever thought in the middle of an operation, but it’s also the one thing that gets him pushing the door open and shining his flashlight in. Zombies don’t yelp, and zombies certainly don’t start screeching at him in mercy.

That, at least, has Chris’ expression softening, and he lowers his rifle and nods. “I believe you.”

There’s a moment’s delay where he has to work his comms system, letting his team know he’s found a survivor to escort. Chris’ gaze drops to the gun on the floor, and with one hand keeping his rifle secure, the other picks the weapon up and hands it back to its owner grip first.

“You know how to handle this thing?” is his first question.

His second one is, “Are you okay to handle this thing?”

[rasputinaillyanna]

Someone’s gotta pay.

[iridescentides]

No, no, no. You guys are reading it wrong! It says, “Adult swim? No, kids allowed!”

2 year gif-iversary → 🎁 for @lizzie-mcguires

[worstrper]

lowqualityrp​:

“Of course he hates storms! I’ve yet to meet a bloody soul who likes them,” Bajie huffed as he pulled the infant into his arms and turned his gaze towards him. “It’s alright, Henry. I’ve got a bit more padding to cover your ears with.”

As if to make his point, he held him closely to his chest and shifted the arm that was holding him to cover his other ear as best he could without smothering the boy. Brow furrowing with concern as he clung to his clothes and burrowed his face into this chest, Bajie began to rock the tiny form in his arms and hushing him softly.

Bajie gives a soft hum of agreement as he hears Sunny mention starting a fire, saying, “That’s a good idea.”

Though, the lack of movement on Sunny’s part is evident. He looks between Sunny and the hearth.

“Or I can do it after I get him fed. We don’t have to do it this second.”

Bajie’s offer has Sunny’s hands dropping from his face as he looks at him again. Bajie’s drenched, too-- had been busy heating up Henry’s milk, even-- and now with Henry squirming and crying into his chest, he can’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty for putting so much on him.

“No,” he finally says, brows pulling together, “I brought it up. I should do it.”

And, tired though he feels, Sunny gets to his feet and goes to where he put his pack on the floor. He has a good amount of kindling in there-- sticks of wood bundled together and tied with a string-- but not nearly enough to make something that burns big and lasts.

“I’ll look in the other rooms,” he says, dropping the sticks into the fireplace and resisting the urge to sigh. “There might be some old furniture we can give up.”

Looking over at Bajie, Sunny nods. “Call me if you need anything.”

Then he leaves the room.

[metadefumaca]

Daniel Wu as Sunny in Into the Badlands ‘The Fort’

[clarkent]

sunny: *kills like 20 people in two minutes*

me:

[worstrper]

lowqualityrp​:

Gaius can’t help the slight pang in his chest as Sunny calls him sir once more as he enters the tent. He knows full well that if Sunny didn’t call him it, he would be reprimanded and harshly, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

Swallowing thickly, he watches as the Colt so easily moves to kneel on the floor before the bed.

Reluctantly, he pulled off his overcoat and raised his shirt to show a considerable slash along it before taking his seat. He thanked the gods Waldo had shown up when he had to take the nomad out. There was no doubt in Gaius’ mind that had he been just a moment longer, he wouldn’t be there to tell the tale.

“You don’t… You don’t have to be on the ground, unless it’s easier for you. I’m not… I don’t mind,” he stated hesitantly, feeling strangely put off by the older boy. Gaius wasn’t scared of him, per say, aside of him maybe going back to his father and reporting to him that he’d been showing anything remotely like compassion to “those who are lesser”. In truth, he didn’t care about that. But there was something about the way he held himself that confused Gaius.

Perhaps it was because Sunny was fearless, as far as he could tell. He couldn’t imagine being a Colt, seeing and doing the things they did when they were both so young.

But in a way, he also admired it. Gaius wished he wasn’t so cowardly and meek at times, especially when it came to his family.

Eyes flicking up in Gaius’ direction at the admission, Sunny’s lips press together before he brings his head back down.

“Not minding isn’t an excuse for breaking the rules,” he says plainly. The only reason he’ll get up will be if Gaius orders him to, though Sunny has to admit the awkward attempts at conversation are more than he expected. He’s not sure what to think about not having to submit to someone with a crest of Barony on their clothing... so, as Waldo tells him, he stops thinking.

Instead, his left hand pushing Gaius’ shirt higher (Gaius had lifted it, which means Sunny has permission to work), his right one brushes the skin just beneath the wound as his brows draw together in concentration.

“It’s big,” he says. Gaius’ shirt-- white, as all the Chaus’ clothes are-- is stained with red, and he knows it isn’t going to be coming out any time soon. “But not infected. It’ll hurt for a while, but it’ll heal.”

On the tray is a small bowl of warm water; Sunny picks up the towel there (decorated with Quinn’s armadillo) and soaks it before beginning to clean. For all that his behaviour doesn’t invoke sentiments of kindness, the pressure of his hand is gentle in its perfect calculation.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he reminds nevertheless.

[worstrper]

lowqualityrp​:

Bajie’s heart was breaking as Henry continued to cry.

He wished they had found somewhere to shack up where the walls were thicker, but the rain had already drenched them by the time they had found the cabin. There was no time to try and find other shelter.

Fortunately, they had enough milk to feed Henry then, but it didn’t look like they’d have enough to make it another day.

Gods, he hoped there was a goat or the like on their travels to milk in the morning.

“Here, lemme have a go at him. He might be as sick of you as I am,” he quipped gamesomely as he returned with the warmed bottle of milk for Henry. Letting out a soft sigh as he sat next to Sunny, he set the bottle down and held his hands out to hold their boy.

“Come now, Henry. You’ll be alright.”

“He’s always hated storms,” Sunny mutters, and though there’s some delay before he pulls Henry from his chest (as there always is-- Sunny always hates letting him go), he manages it eventually.

The sight of the baby wailing and reaching his arms out for Sunny to hold him close churns his stomach.

“It’s okay,” he says, though whether he’s trying to placate Henry or himself is up in the air, “Bajie’s here, see? He’s back with your food.”

But Henry criiiiies and criiiiiiiiiiies, and even when Sunny positions the little one in Bajie’s hands, all that accomplishes is making Henry turn and curl his little fingers tight into Bajie’s clothing. As soon as he gets the chance, he’ll bury his face in his chest.

Meanwhile, Sunny sighs, rubbing his hands down his face. “I should try getting that fireplace going. Make it warmer for him.”

And, sure, he’s exhausted, especially obvious since despite his own words he isn’t trying to stand, but... gods, what else is there to do?