#greg powell

[not-the-blue]

spaceship breakfast

[blue-eyed-giant]

currently on "escape!" and they showed up!!! i missed my cursed engineers <3

art by @not-the-blue

[holdyrterror]

i, robot and tf2 crossover……. Donovan and engie do NOT get along

big ups @real-globophobe (we were talking about this, gotta credit them smhhh)

also powell getting crushed by heavy robot shitpost

[died-but-not-dead-tournament]

Groot (Guardians of the Galaxy) VS. Greg Powell and Mike Donovan (i, robot)

Groot Propaganda

Greg and Mike Propaganda

[nesonkin]

The I, Robot (2004) would have been a much better movie if it was about Mike and Greg dealing with yet another "malfunctioning" robot. It just never gets old.

[died-but-not-dead-propaganda]

Greg Powel and Mike Donovan Propaganda

These poor fellows, they were testers for a warpdrive ship that was completely built by a robot named Brain. Brain had gone mad after facing the dilemma of what would happen to humans during a warpjump (dying). So it built a ship without stering, outwards comunication or ability to unlock the door from the inside.

They were just checking the ship out and decided that 'nahh this ain't for us' but Brain had locked the door. Then it shoot of to space and made a warpjump..

This is how the book describes it (I know it is kinda long but it is surrealist and wonderfully weird)

Powell looked at his hand on the metal chair-arm and said with frozen calm, “Feel the wall, Mike.” Donovan did, and said, “You can feel it shake, Greg.” Even the  stars seemed blurred. From somewhere came the  vague impression of a huge machine gathering power with the walls, storing upenergy for a mighty leap, throbbing its way up the scales of strength. It came with a suddenness and a stab of pain. Powell stiffened, and half-jerked from his  chair.  His  sight caught Donovan and  blanked out  while Donovan’s thin shout whimpered and died in his ears. Something writhed within him and struggled against a growing blanket of ice, that thickened. Something broke loose and whirled in a blaze of flickering light and pain. It fell – and whirled and fell headlong into silence! It was death! It  was  a  world of  no  motion  and  no  sensation. A  world of  dim, unsensing consciousness; a consciousness of darkness and of silence and of formless struggle. Most of all a consciousness of eternity. He was a tiny white thread of ego – cold and afraid.Then the words came, unctuous and sonorous, thundering over him in afoam of sound: “Does your  coffin  fit  differently lately? Why not  try  Morbid M.Cadaver’s  extensible caskets? They are  scientifically designed  to  fit  the natural curves of  the  body,  and  are  enriched with Vitamin B1.  UseCadaver’s caskets for comfort. Remember – you’re – going – to – be – dead– a – long – long – time!” It  wasn’t  quite sound, but  whatever it  was, it  died  away in  an  oilyrumbling whisper. The white thread that might have been Powell heaved uselessly at the insubstantial eons of time that existed all about him – and collapsed upon itself as the piercing shriek of a hundred million ghosts of a hundred million soprano voices rose to a crescendo of melody: “I’ll be glad when you’re dead, you rascal, you. “I’ll be glad when you’re dead, you rascal, you. “I’ll be glad–” It rose up a spiral stairway of violent sound into the keening supersonics that passed hearing, and then beyond–The white thread quivered with a pulsating pang. It strained quietly–The  voices were ordinary –  and  many.  It  was  a  crowd speaking; as wirling mob that  swept through and  past  and  over him  with a  rapid, headlong motion, that left drifting tatters of words behind them. “What did they getcha for, boy? Y’look banged up–” “–A hot fire, I guess, but I got a case–” “–I’ve made Paradise, but old St. Pete–” “Naaah, I got a pull with the boy. Had dealings with him–" “Hey, Sam, come this way–” “Ja get a mouthpiece? Beelzebub says–” “–Going on, my good imp? My appointment is with Sa–” And above it all the original stentorian roar, that plunged across all: “HURRY!  HURRY!  HURRY!!!  Stir  your bones, and  don’t  keep us waiting – there are many more in line. Have your certificates ready, andmake sure Peter’s release is stamped across it. See if you are at the proper entrance gate. There will be plenty of fire for all. Hey, you – YOU DOWN THERE. TAKE YOUR PLACE IN LINE OR–” The  white thread that  was  Powell groveled backward before the advancing shout,  and  felt  the  sharp stab  of  the  pointing finger.  It  all exploded into a rainbow of sound that dripped its fragments onto an aching brain. Powell was in the chair, again. He felt himself shaking. Donovan’s eyes were opening into two large popping bowls of glazedblue. “Greg,” he whispered in what was almost a sob. “Were you dead?” “I... felt dead.” He did not recognize his own croak. Donovan was obviously making a bad failure of his attempt to stand up, “Are we alive now? Or is there more?” “I...  feel  alive.” It  was  the  same hoarseness.

[randomrichards]

DAVID HOLMES: THE BOY WHO LIVED

Radcliffe’s stunt double

Paralyzed by accident

Still keeps his head up

[kaizsche]

[peachesandcreames]

It's Not the Plane, It's the Pilots 💞💕

[peacefxlmyko]

I need friends like the TGM cast so badly I mean LOOK AT THEM

[k9effect]

Top Gun: Maverick skin tone studies

[Click for better quality, reblogs and tags appreciated]

[not-the-blue]

one (1) bitches

[holdyrterror]

Redrew my hc designs for Powell and Donovan,,,,,, reading caves of steel is making me miss these sillyguys

Also comparison with my old drawings of them,,, not much has changed but it’s still fun to look at

[pullman-lewis]

via courtney__worth

[floydsglasses]

Pinterest is really feeding your girl today and I was taught sharing is caring so here is what she found

BONUS- Non TGM AND MORE WHY DID MY PINTREST SUGGEST THIS but its so fitting

[holypowell]

i just got shot