#(emdualism)

[tomahawk-swing]

(( ☕️ I'd like to hear what Tomahawk thinks about how different the future's going to be :0 ))

Send “☕️” + a TOPIC and my muse will spill their honest thoughts and opinions on it

"I mean... I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it wasn't a tiny bit scary. It is scary, knowing that everything I know, the Net, Navis, even the humans 'round me... we'll all be gone someday."

"With how much Navis are helping humans out, it's a bit sad to know they're gonna evolve past that, y'know? There's gonna be a day when they plug the last fully sentient Navi out, and it'll be it. We'll just be a page in history books."

"There's tons of stuff to be excited about, though! And I'm glad to know the future's not gonna be like the stuff we saw in Beyondard, so that's a good thing, at least! But it's probably best if I don't think about it too much. It'll just bum me out."

[cloakedspurs]

Sure, the comment about the gizmo exploding had mostly been dry banter on his part, a small warning even-but the shifty sharp-eyed kid didn't appear bothered in the slightest. He held the seemingly overheating, crackling MP3 looking device like it was nothing-didn't even wince like humans often do when they hold those broiling drinks of theirs.

"....Wouldn't be the one in danger, aye?" Eight said quietly.

Still, the cowboy's stolid expression remained unchanged as the kid prattled on. Eh prankster- Shade figured. The kid must have been in the middle of something. Until again- another sharp ping reached his radar,prompting the robot to once again narrow his hidden eyes on the gizmo that was now ablaze with sparks.

"My hat? Course' it's running fine,kid." Eight muttered. "It's not the one catching in flames." Then he shifted his visors directly at Rey.

"....Now-what are ya really carrying there?"

As the kid drew nearer, the robot's tinted visors continued to watch him. Well, what do ya know? It really was just a kid. For a second he was beginning to think that this was just in fact another bot, but nope-up close Eight could see, clear as day-that this was a full flower sniffin' human.

Still- Shade said nothing when the uppity kid marched in closer with puffed up shoulders. And at his rather rightful demand for an answer, the tall robot returned nothing but a silent stare, yet he remained in place.

Again, the central red light on his hat gave a sharp distorted pinged. Prompting Eight's camera eyes to narrow in on the new arrival until he spotted it.....-the device Rey was holding. Interesting...

"Think.....-think that could use some repairing." Shade finally rasped, as he eyed the device. "Got the feelin' that thing is just about to explode on ya kid-any second now...-any second now."

[rjhamster]

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[oh-nxts-and-bxlts]

@em-dualism

It often occured to Diggy that her friend repertoire had grown conscequently in a handful of years. Looking back on the history of her meetings of new people, she often felt overwhelmed by a sentiment of fondness - or annoyance, depending on who was concerned. But allowing such a wander of the mind often lead to her remembering that she had not met people in a while, or that she needed to pay urgent visit to someone she had not seen in a while.

One such person was “Pat” Patrick Springs, one of the nicest humans she’d ever met, abnormal only through his almost unnatural ability for kindness (and grass green hair, but that could be entirely blamed on weird genetics). Not having seen an otherwise very sweet and happy kid, especially considering their fondness for their friends, had filled the small ‘bot with an immediate, and deep, sense of dread. Enough that Diggy figured that, with any luck, he wouldn’t mind a surprise visit!

She would bring snacks! And a nice notepad with crayons! Oh, and take him someplace nice too! She just needed to hustle to one of the few cracks in reality she knew lead to his dimension, take a plunge, then come see him with much affection and care! Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy! She just happened to even remember the crack she’d first used to discover his reality - she just had to sneak into a building or two, how hard could it be?

Loaded with the self-promised precious items, and possessed with a deep desire to make right to her friend, Diggy failed to account for a very simple, but crucial, detail. Which was what had happened to her, the first time she HAD indeed visited the green-haired boy’s dimension of static waves and ultra-futuristic cities of glass.

Which Diggy remembered very abruptly as she, in fact, didn’t feel the ground beneath the foot that stepped out from the breach, feeling her weight tumble forward, with her chest barreling through soon after. A glimpse of a rapidly spinning, sprawling garbage dump was revealed to the free-falling ‘bot, and, in a great moment of loneliness, the small ‘bot remembered exactly what she’d managed to forget, likely due to cranial trauma.

“Aw, nuts-” She barely had the time to breathe out, before the wind of her free-fall swallowed her voice, leaving her to scream and flail on the relatively long way down. Her landing was, once again, abrupt, and marked by her sinking a few feet into the garbage layer with a crunch of compacted trash, in a perfect starfish pose.

Hopefully, no one saw that.

[flyiingpress]

@em-dualism​  ||  [x]

A certain someone needed a snack and berries weren’t cutting it anymore. Fortunately, if there was one thing Rey knew how to do, it was to utilize his resources. And why waste their hard-earned cash on a little malasada? Even if their workers were as diligent as could be, both he and a certain ghost of his were well practiced in getting what they wanted… especially now that all of their training had paid off.

That was how the boy and his now-Banette gained a pair of pastries and a pair of cheeky grins. What Rey didn’t expect, however, was to be caught so soon. Or… was he? The lump of bread landing at his feet was a surprise, and he was quick to turn to the source, trying not to look conspicuous… until he saw who it was.

“You..?!” A pause. That look on Dingo’s face didn’t look like it was merely from realizing thievery had taken place. “…Geez, someone poison your food or something?” His shoulders dropped back as he started nonchalantly munching his snack. “This better not be poison too or you guys’re gonna have to pay us back.”

Dingo almost picked up the malasada so he could finish it. He couldn’t forgive himself for wasting such good food. Being angry was one thing, but ruining a perfectly good malasada ? That made Dingo want to punch someone - maybe himself ...

Fate had brought Dingo a very punchable face. When he heard the familiar voice, and notably its tone, Dingo felt even more anger rush through his veins. “I was at the shop a minute ago. You weren’t buying that malasada.” He growled, forgetting the previous reasons of his anger.

“Where did you get it ?! Did you steal it ?” Dingo grabbed Rey by the collar, not leaving him a chance to reply. “Give me the money ! Now !!”

[roleplayerxshoutouts]

@em-dualism is an amazing roleplayer and person! She's sweet and kind, and is one of the nicest people I know! In her writing I hear Pat and Rey so much and she is amazing at bringing them to life! Continue being awesome my dear friend!

[iiguess]

✏️ (mainverse sam and pat pls!!)

[ Eᴠᴇɴ Mᴏʀᴇ Iɴᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ Qᴜᴏᴛᴇs Gᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ! || accepting! ]

[tomahawk-swing]

Data from Dingo's computer.

A flicker of the computer screen. It came alive just as Pat walked inside the small bedroom, as if reacting to his very presence.

Windows opened on the old screen at the click of an invisible mouse, displays popping one over the other. Old email conversations, scrolling, scrolling...

Conversations between Dingo or Tomahawkman, and Pat. Right click, properties. Another panel opened, displaying intricate lines of codes. Highlight. Coordinates...

Whoever was controlling the computer, they were figuring something out. Valuable information... deliberately offered hints.

[ @em-dualism ]

[tomahawk-swing]

To say that Dingo was sulking would probably be an understatement. He had initially planned to walk all the way to the forest for a long walk, but his path had taken him through a park, and he’d decided that it would be just as good.

He even bought himself a waffle, and only nibbled on half of it. Dingo crashed down on a bench, his half-eaten waffle growing cold in his hand.

There was nothing he could do. He had no clues as to Tomahawkman’s whereabouts, aside from the identity of his kidnappers. The area he had to search was as wide as the planet - scratch that, as two planets. He couldn’t even be certain that Tomahawkman was still in this world at all.

Dingo’s gaze had turned vacant, his shoulders slumped, hands resting between his knees. At this point, not even a meteror crashing nearby would tear him from his gloom.

@em-dualism

[tomahawk-swing]

☕ ((For whichever you like, if you want to!))

Send me “ ☕ “ for my muse to drink tea uniquely flavored after your muse, and I’ll tell you what my muse tastes!

(Dingo to both :3c )

It seemed like a perfectly innocent cup of herbal tea. The scent was pleasant, and reminded Dingo freshly cut grass and earth. For some reason, he felt the urge to rush to a supermarket and buy seeds for planting...

He finally took a sip of the tea... and felt like he'd just been punched in the throat. How could such a gentle-looking drink be so bitter? Had the leaves stewn in for too long? In any case, it was hardly drinkable. The sweet aftertaste softened the blow somewhat, but Dingo still had to wipe some tears from the corners of his eyes.

Don't judge a cup of tea by its cover...

[oh-nxts-and-bxlts]

☕ ((If you want to, hee hoo))

'"...Hehe. There's a lil' flower floating on the tea. Ah'm not eatin' it, it's too cute."

"Huh... Tastes definitely floral, though ah' can't define what flowers it is - only that there are some, too many to count. And a bit like freshly cut grass, too. It just feels like what a well trimmed botanical garden could taste like ya'nno. Funny enough, there's a little fuzz left on the tongue, like radio interferences when ya' drink it... and, it's kinda' got a bitter aftertaste when ya drink it that lingers."

"That's a'ight. Ah' still love it."

"Huh? ...Ah, that lil' patch of rust on me' left knee just fell off. And, ah' think the one on me' right elbow too."

[tomahawk-swing]

@em-dualism​  liked for a ghoul!Dingo starter !  ||   [x]

It was a moonless night. The sky was colored in bright orange hues, mist falling down onto the city, hiding the top of the skyscrapers from view. People hurried back home, eager to find the warmth and comfort of their houses.

It was time for the dwellers of the night to rise.

To each their territory. Dingo had established dominance over his little corner of the city, aware of the rumors that now ran amongst the commoners. He only struck when he was desperate, keeping his meals as spaced as body could handle. 

Like any wild beast, the ghoul wasn’t one to share. He could sense a powerful presence from afar, his senses on high alert, his every muscle tensing up. He headed straight for the peculiar scent, ready to tear the intruder apart.

[tomahawk-swing]

[[Dingo @ everyone roasting him on the dash]]

[oh-nxts-and-bxlts]

⭐️ ((Whichever one of em you'd like, for Diggy))

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses.

Given Pat tends to write a fair amount in his diary, and likely has a lot of supplies on hand to leave notes out and about, Diggy tends to see a lot more of his handwriting than she does for anyone else. She has let him know on a few occasions she thought his handwriting was pretty cute, much to the embarrassment of the young boy.

To be fair, fine motor function isn't Diggy's strong suit, so her handwriting is absolutely atrocious, which she's never been shy to mention either, despite Pat's best efforts to be positive about it. She kind of wishes she could write all neatly like him, but her jacked-up writing style is pretty much part of her, so she honestly kind of doesn't mind. It's got character, in the same way that that one pointy bit of stone digging between your buttcheeks when you sit on a boulder does.

On the topic of writing though, Diggy has been making a continued effort to gift Pat with a journal that Rey wouldn't be able to destroy. It's not so much in preparation for the fact he'd WANT to do so as it is a way for her to prove a point to the meaner twin. So far, Rey has consistently managed to break every single "journal" she gave Pat, even the ones with a padlock and a cover made out of metal junk.

One of those journals was in fact broken when Rey threw it out of his window, only for it to land on Diggy's noggin', a few stories down.

So far, neither have given up the competition.

[tomahawk-swing]

aquamarinewrites replied to your photo: [[Sam and Dingo, sitting on a couch,...

I actually smiled when I saw this on my dash. These two are way too cute ;w;

birds-of-the-sur replied to your photo :   [[Sam and Dingo, sitting on a couch,...

   ((AHHH It’s finished! I’m glad that you’re drawing more and improving:v These two look cute here:] ))   

em-dualism replied to your photo:   [[Sam and Dingo, sitting on a couch,...                

   ((Omg this turned out so!! Cute!!! I love it, I can tell how much work you put into this one and it shows!))    

[[aahhhhh thanks a lot for the feedback everyone ;;w;; they are very very cute and I wanted the whole world to know it.

I’ll keep doing my best \o/ ]]

[flyiingpress]

@em-dualism  liked for a starter ! [x]

“Hurry up, big bro’ ! The berry farm is right ahead !”

Toma led the way with a spring in his step, eager to see his friend again. He was almost tempted to drag his brother by the arm, but he knew that it would only make the older boy angry.

“I’m coming ! Just slow down ...” Dingo sighed. The uphill road was the death of his legs. “You dunno how many miles I walked for deliveries today ...”

Fortunately, the berry farm was close. Toma rushed inside, all while making sure he didn’t drop the large paper bag he was holding. It contained enough malasada for Pat and his Pokémon to share.

“Hello !” Toma greeted. “Is anyone here ?”