#sctv roleplay
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[All seemed peaceful, all seemed quiet save from the purr of a car engine as Russell pulled out of the driveway and the occasional sound from one of the neighbors outside.
It was quiet for the most part, Zeke had popped in a moment earlier to say he was stepping out to a Harbor Freight for a few items to finish off with last of the repairs.]
Er, uh Jo- do you mind watching her for a moment..?
[He’d asked, spotting the eldest girl of the great granddaughters as she came down from one of the upstairs rooms, pointing to Stephanie who got her hands on a box of tissues.]
I just, need to, check on…the others really quick. If one’s up they’re all sure to follow, I mean.
[His social skills weren’t too well in the beginning, tried too hard. What’s left clearly went down the drain during his time in hospice.]
….Sure, Moe, go ahead.
[Her eyes never really met with his as of lately, but she’d been trying her hardest (the talking both Graves sisters from their mother to show some sympathy regarding their Uncle was enough)
Moe wouldn’t blame her though, even he tried avoiding looking at himself for too long as well.
As he peeked into each room, every child he’d seen was still sound in their respective bed as they’d been laid down earlier. Eyes shut, curled into their pillows, with the only movements being the little rises to their chest as they breathed.
‘Good.’ Well, one less thing to worry about now.
….Scratch that, the sound of tiny footsteps padding across the carpet filled his ears. It wasn’t long before something bumped into the back of his leg.]
Oh, hi, I didn’t think you were up.
[There was Jillian, exiting from a room he’d just previously checked, one palming rubbing at her eye while the other gripped onto his pant leg for stability.]
Did you just wake up or you couldn’t sleep?
[She merely nodded, still too fatigued for her mind to form sentences and lips pursed together from lack of moisture.
‘Well, no used getting her back to sleep if she’s already up now.’
‘I know someone who’s winner for Uncle of the Year—’
This was beginning to be just plain irritating than annoying now.
‘Do you ever stay quiet?!’
Well, all were nestled quietly in each room with the exception one. Wouldn’t be fair to dawdle in the hallway and leave the other to babysitting by herself.
He felt a pang of guilt having to deny the usual piggyback ride to the kitchen but if Moe could barely lift Stephanie, it’d be near impossible to balance Jillian, even with her small size.
The 7-year didn’t fully begin to awaken until the sound of sticky plastic and hum of the refrigerator motor mechanism filled her ears.
Out came the large box set onto the counter, popping open the little slit and retrieving 4 of the frozen treats from the inside.]
Just remember what the rules are-
[He said, bending down to her level height, two popsicles in a hand that were attached to one another by the tops & bottoms of the wrapper.]
Make sure to hide all evidence.
Good- and the second, if it’s found by one of the others?
You weren’t here.
[Snapping off one, he placed the wrapped treat into her hand, a pat to her golden curls.]
Atta girl.
[He said, allowing Jillian to unwrap and bite into the frozen grape treat that would cool her from the Ohio heat.
Not that he could feel it, his body had difficulty regulating heat lately that left him absolutely chilled to the bone at most times.
And sure, he would probably get some stares at wearing a cardigan in 100 degree weather, but to him it felt barely above 40.]
[It seemed like perfect summer weather as the two got outside, just a smidge more than what some would prefer.
But it was Ohio, not much of a clear explanation there though nothing much to say.
There was Jo, taking place where the sun hit most in the comfort of a lawn chair and swim cover discarded onto the grass.
The two youngest members took a spot on each side of him, Stephanie already halfway finished as evidenced by the stains purple darkening the front of her onesie. While Jillian merely crunched on hers, blonde curls already frizzing from the humidity.]
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Not sure why, but I feel a little gloomy today, for lack of a better term. Like someone close to me….
….probably nothing.
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Feeling… lightheaded.
No good.
N̴̛̝̣̞̼͍̝̖̾̂̀͋̃̔͂̾̚͘̚ë̵̛͔̖́̒͋̎̌̊̿̚͘ḝ̸͍̣͇̗̭͓̜̳͒͊̑̃̿̉̌͆͘̚͘͘͜ͅd̷̨̟͉̬̈́͊ ̴̧̭̱̦͋̂t̴̺̑̋͝��̢͖͎͚̦̗̣̙͚̻̼̤ŏ̸͕̮̤͛̅̃͘ ̸̨̛͔̤̩̹̻̯̭̱͖̩̽̀̿́̓̑͊̔̍̀̕͘̕l̵̺̰̰̣̅a̸̤̳̞͙̙̫̓̑̓͘y̸͔͚̙̥͇̺̯̙͚̬͇̿͜ ̶̡̪̻͙̺̣̖̍̿̊̋͗̂̚d̸̨̳̫̖̙͓̱̖̦̈́͐͝o̴̻̮̖͎̭͙̝̪͖͕̺͒͠w̵̲͓͉̗̥͍̜̞̌̆̎̐̽n̷̨̖̠̻̺̜̖̩̗̩̤̭̻͆͝ ̶̨̠̼͍͍̩̣̮̳̗̏̔͠
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Promoting my server again cause booyah
HEY. HEY YOU
do you like ghostbusters? do you like blues brothers? do you like classic SNL or SCTV? do you like 70s and 80s comedy movies/tv in general?
are you hopelessly down bad for Dan Aykroyd? how about Harold Ramis? what about John Belushi? maybe Bill Murray?
THEN ENTER MY PERSONAL SHIT HOLE DISCORD SERVER. MORE INFO UNDER THE CUT
WE GOT:
GROUP OF CHANNELS FOR GHOSTBUSTERS SIMPING, MEDIA ANALYSIS, OC DEVELOPMENT, SHIPPING, AND MORE
GROUP OF GENERAL CHANNELS FOR DISCUSSION OF 70S AND 80S COMEDY MEDIA, AS WELL AS ANYTHING ELSE YOU FEEL LIKE SHARING
AN ADULT ONLY SECTION IN CASE YOURE AND ADULT WHOS ONLY INTERESTED IN INTERACTING WITH OTHER ADULTS
ABSOLUTELY GOATED FIC WRITERS AND ARTISTS
ROLEPLAY CHANNELS
PHOTOS OF DAN AYKROYD WITH HIS SHIRT OFF
A GUY NAMED SILLY WHO JUST POSTS PHOTOS LIKE THIS
SO IF YOU WANNA COME ON DOWN COME ON DOWN
#ghostbusters#ghostbusters 1984#ghostbusters ii#dan aykroyd#bill murray#John belushi#Harold ramis#the blues brothers#snl
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"Hi, I'm Bill Needle, and welcome to"
A combination gif repository / askblog / research centre dedicated to the character of Bill Needle, SCTV's resident critic at large.
Presented in a wrapper of anachronistic epistolary roleplay (Needle somehow has access to the contemporary Internet in the early 80s and is now Melonville's most irritated blogger).
(Psst: I also make gifs and other things that aren't Needle-related @collateral-joy. Check it out if you like Dave Thomas, SCTV, Dave Thomas on SCTV, or having a good time in general)
See below for more information on tags and posts and whatnot.
"Huh? You wanna know more about this place? Well, I can't stop you. Just keep in mind that this is a work in progress."
Tags
Find the Needle Content you crave using the intuitive content tagging system. Posts are tagged (#needle [type of post]). For example, #needle blog will net you all of Needle's personal blog posts. Other terms currently in use are gif, ask, image, edit, video, audio, game, and update.
#purpletext is used for posts that are explicitly "out of character" (or more accurately, in character as a sort of ghost that's haunting Needle's computer - it's complicated).
Posts
As stated at the top, this blog operates in a few different modes.
At the center of it all is my gifmaking practice. I have taken it upon myself to supply the world with the finest Needle gifs. I also take requests, so do send in any specific scenes/themes you'd like me to cover. Please feel free to use the Needle gifs however you see fit - spread 'em far and wide! All I ask is that you let people know where you found 'em.
Next up, the RP element. Through in-character blog posts and answering your asks, together we can get to know Bill Needle and what goes on in his funny little head a bit better. He might come across as aloof and/or abrasive, but trust me, he gets real excited when he sees a message come in.
To round it out, I also may occasionally offer the fruits of my ongoing Needle research. So far, this has taken the form of compilations - see the #needle video tag for the goods. I am something of a Needle Expert, you could say. Let us discuss the finer points of Needle (pun intended) over some piña coladas.
Whatnot
Coming Soon
#pinned needle#needle update#Bill Needle#Dave Thomas#SCTV#shiny new pinned post#for the benefit of newcomers or anyone else who's wondering what exactly it is I do here
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You may have everyone else fooled with this goody two shoes act, but I remember what you said about Moe the MINUTE he wasn’t around to defend himself. He was kidnapped and TORTURED, you insensitive bastard. Have you and your little lackey no shame?
You’re lucky you haven’t found yourself in my dentist chair in recent months, that’s all I can say. (diy-dentist)
Oh, goddammit.
I'm not proud of what I said about him, okay? It was a long time ago, and I was an asshole. I've changed a lot since then. I went to therapy.
I'm trying to improve myself and this shit isn't helping.
I'm sorry. I know that doesn't fix things, but I'm sorry. I didn't know how bad things were then, and now that I do, I feel like a complete dickhead. I shouldn't have said that shit then and I sure as hell won't be repeating it now. Okay?
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With all due respect sir, don’t say that again
As the young say, uh....let me consult my notes.
“Felt cute, might delete later?”
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Well, that time of year again. They come as they go, that’s what the New Year brings.
I know some may be looking forward to it, starting anew.
But for me, it just feels as though no matter what I do, I just keep going backwards.
Some say just give it a few days, but that’s been told to me for over the past 25 years.
(Nice job, managed to be a complete downer again)
I really have no big resolutions. Same as every year, just try to survive out there and avoid any mishaps.
[sigh]
1994, here we come. Just a few more hours.
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ow ow OW fucking headache son of a bitch--
Probably just the kids being loud again. Yeah. Never mind that I've been having a strange amount of headaches lately. And feeling achy. And having those weird dreams come back. Maybe I'm coming down with something.....
I'm....gonna go lie down. Hopefully that helps.
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It’s been a hell of day.
Earl came home early this morning. We talked, we hugged, we cried but mostly it was me, and we agreed we were both in the wrong last night. We also agreed it was wrong of us to drag Elizabeth and Dr. Stantz into the argument. Unfortunately, I had work obligations I couldn’t back out on (on threat of violence and/or unemployment).
I was just looking forward to spending the night making things up to Earl (not like that, you creeps).
I did not expect him to have a speech prepared that finished with him on one knee.
The ring is gorgeous. I’m not usually much of a jewelry person, but this is never, ever coming off my hand.
I was planning to propose next time we took a trip together. Maybe to New York. Needless to say he got his ring a little bit early.
I’ve just been sitting here looking at the ring for the last ten minutes.
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‘- ..- .-. -. / -... .- -.-. -.- .-.-.- / -.. --- -. .----. - / -.. --- / - .... .. ... .-.-.-
[He managed to tap out but his efforts were worthless, the sound of footsteps quietly leaving away in the outside world from him.
‘I need to do something- something needs to be done!’
Moe felt tired, his body already so weak from malnutrition and stress more than overexerted itself trying to find his way through there.
He just had to escape these bounds, he couldn’t let them go through with this on their own- even if it meant giving up his own life in the end.
His hand felt tried to wrestle through whatever binding held him still. That was when he felt something poke him.
‘What was that?’ he thought, feeling his eyes widen under the blindfold.
Moe felt around again, the tips of his fingers poking at something before a wet feeling settled on them. It did not hurt but he felt a pressure from whatever it was against his skin.
This needed to be done, there was too much time wasted already.
Whatever was binding him had to have been on the rest of him- if he broke through some of it, he could do it again.
Moe wriggled and wrestled with the unknown binds, ignoring the discomfort from the growing pressure and wetness surrounding him as he pushed through to break free.]
Now Morton, there’s no need to be testy- I really think you just need to rest a moment, take some time to yourself.
[It must be all that car travel- anyone could feel like that after being in a car for several hours with someone, even moreso when it’s family members.]
Sit a spell, unwind- I can put some music on for you if you like~
[Among some of the items he brought along, Moe managed to slip in a portable tape cassette player for a distraction during long testing in his room and a few of his personal tapes.
It sat right on a plain bedside table, ready to be used as he selected a tape and let the room be filled with soft music.]
‘I’m….sorry for snapping, Moe.’
[He turned around at the small apology, his smile slightly smaller and more soft in appearance.]
Let bygones be bygones, Mort- I know you didn’t mean it, just like everyone else didn’t back then~
[Moe slightly hummed to himself, letting out a slight chuckle to the other.]
She’s your niece as well, Mort- don’t tell me you didn’t forget that on the way too.
Though- it can be hard to miss that tiny little thing if you aren’t careful~
[He let his mind wander for a moment, reminiscing back from long ago. Moe turned to side at hearing the sound of footsteps amongst the music, opening his eyes to see Russell enter back into the room.]
I worried about you, Russett Potato- hopefully you haven’t come down with something.
[His feet kicked back and forth sitting on his bed, as though not a care in the world.]
‘sigh’ This music takes me back to when she was just the smallest bundle of blankets, don’t you remember how small she was~?
Practically had to wear doll clothes her first 3 months because newborn ones just hung off her like a tent~!
[Moe felt all sentimental, letting that warm feeling taking over himself as he reached into his open suitcase next to him.]
Now look at her, grown into such a lovely child and just the sweetest little girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on~
[He said, turning the photo out to Mort and Adam’s direction. This had just come in the mail awhile ago, the most recent picture of Jillian as of now with her little sister Katie beside her on the couch.]
They’re going to wearing these dresses this time when they come over- doesn’t she look just like a little doll~?
[His smile stretched out more, feeling himself even grow more happier as he cooed over her how delicate and cute in appearance she looked.]
It’s like I said before, there was always something special about her.
Jillian- my Little Princess~
[Russ took a deep breath and watched Zayde’s expression turn grave.]
[The sound was soft, but clear. Moe was in there, all right, and capable of sending a message, terse as it was. But it was a long way from what Russ wanted to hear. “Leave here.”]
[NO, Russ thought firmly, as he pursed his lips. Never leave a man behind.]
He tapped another message at the corner of the mirror, this time, two codes, two letters each. Short and sweet.
-. -.. / .- …
[Russ closed his eyes as he withdrew his hand, and gave a silent prayer that Mort had bought enough time away from the entity riding Moe’s actual body that this exchange had gone unnoticed. Usually, he wasn’t so religious, but at the moment, it seemed the best asset at his disposal for the purpose. He wasn’t about to let Moe surrender like this, or sacrifice himself. He mattered, dammit.]
[In a moment of inspiration, Russ fished out of his satchel a small ball of thick red cotton crochet thread he’d obtained as a precaution. The red string was something that cropped up in a number of traditions, worldwide - and in Kabbalah, as well. He tied one end to one of the brackets holding the mirror, and let it play out a little. He looked back up into the mirror as he squared his shoulders. It was go time. And as he emerged from the bathroom, playing the red thread out behind him, his face was a hardened mask of steely resolve. Moe was coming home. And Russ vowed that he’d carry him, personally from the depths of Gehenna, if it came to it.]
[As he stepped out, he beheld Mort bravely squaring off against the fell presence of Moe’s unholy rider, an unhinged rictus distorting that once-familiar face. He crossed to the window, and opened it, then set the satchel down beside him, drawing out the cloth bag that held his ritual garments. He nodded to Zayde beside him as he put them on and watched his grandfather do the same. Russ then played out another few feet of red thread, bit it off, and carried the thread’s end, and Mort’s tallit and kippah, to the fiery dentist.]
[It would have to be enough.]
[The demon wasn’t answering his questions. It wasn’t answering his questions. It was just standing there, with the same creepily wide smile pinned across its face, probably relishing in how it was making Moe’s body deteriorate in such a way–shit, Mort couldn’t even remember when the last time was that he had been able to see Moe’s ribs so clearly. It must have been when he was brought back after the kidnapping, which in and of itself was another traumatic moment relating to Moe for him. Seeing Moe be that thin again, like he was a good puff of wind away from dissolving into dust, was enough to make bile rise in Mort’s throat as he stood there, his words rising to a pitch that was almost a scream as he took a step forward almost without thinking.]
You better start answering my fucking questions, you piece of shit, or you’ll have absolutely NOTHING to smile about–
[A steady hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks, and he whirled around to see his Zayde holding him back, lowering his voice into an almost inaudible whisper.]
My boy, calm yourself. Whatever this thing is, beings like it feed on negative energy. Becoming angry at it is only bound to make the matter worse.
[Damn it, but Zayde was right. Getting angry was probably only adding further fuel to this thing’s fire, and it was likely they’d have to strike a delicate balance here. Get it too haughty and over-confident, and it would likely be even harder to get answers of just what the thing was and what it wanted out of it. Cause it to realize that it was being duped, and there was a very real risk that it could wrap whatever chains it had around Moe even tighter and hurt him even further. Mort desperately wished someone who was a bit better at keeping a calm head under pressure was there in his place, at the moment…someone like Egon, who dealt with this kind of thing on a regular basis, or Steven with his steady knowledge of numbers and facts, or even that Russell would re-emerge from the bathroom and give this thing what for in the kind of dangerously calm manner that only a man with military training could possibly have. But there was only him, and the infamous family temper that was currently threatening to get the best of him.
Mort had no fucking idea how Egon was able to deal with all of this with a level head. He was about ready to start tearing the room apart just to get answers out of this thing.
Calm. He had to be calm.]
I’m….sorry for snapping, Moe.
[Despite it all, his voice was still tight with barely-suppressed emotion, enough that he BARELY paid attention to Russell re-entering the room and carrying red thread to him.]
I would just really like an answer to this question, and then I’ll back off. What’s. Your nickname. For. Your. Niece.
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Hello, Officer Friendly. I seem to be in a bit of a dilemma. You see, I was driving down the freeway, and I kid you not, this 100 feet tall Stay Puft Marshmallow Man comes out of no where and crushes my car to bits. I escaped relatively unscathed thankfully. Point is could I get some sort of compensation from this? The Stay Puft company or from anyone involved? I do not have car insurance...
Hello. That sounds like quite the dilemma, and I honestly have no clue what the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is, never heard of it. Is that a brand of marshmallows?
100 feet tall ya say? Do you happen to have some picture proof? I would like to see this for myself.
If it happens to be true… which i doubt
We can work from there.
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I don’t know why but it just doesn’t feel like the holidays this year.
Growing up, it was only Hanukkah I celebrated, my family stuck to the more traditional way of things and so was raised in such.
Ix-nay my Bubbe Frayda, from the maternal side of my family.
Kept up an original Rudolph pamphlet from the Montgomery Ward department store when she visited in ‘39.
“We practically wrote all those Christmas songs: what’s the harm of putting up a cute little deer on my mantle?”
Wasn’t wrong there, Robert L. May did come from a Jewish background. And Bubbe loved her little deer tchotchkes, even off from the holidays.
G-d, I really do miss her.
I didn’t really start celebrating Christmas until joining the family.
Didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with for Hanukkah because of what happened, when…-
Ach- I’m getting too deep and too sentimental right now.
I’ll just try not to bum anybody out this year, don’t need to worry Bubbe again.
Looks like Uncle Harris is going solo for his tinsel boa act this year, I doubt Elon could do that act in heels while in his condition.
(I never did get an answer about the due date).
The eggnog is running low and I’m not sure where Uncle Don is-
(Please, don’t let it be Schnapps Incident of New Year’s ’79 again….)
Wait, I think I hear something outside.
Just going to take a peek out the window- oh my G-d, how did Don tangle himself up in the lights from the roof!?
…..I better go help the others before we have to visit the E.R. and those places are crowded on such nights.
Happy holidays and well wishes, all.
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....why did I wake up on the goddamn floor. Was I sleep-walking again?
....Eh. Probably nothing. Everyone sleepwalks sometimes. No need to freak out over it, Mort. Just keep an eye on things.
It’ll all be fine.
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Excuse this awkward “hello” but you seem to be associated with SCTV as well as me and now I’m curious as to who you are.
@officerfriendlysctv
Really?
Floyd Robertson? Half of the news team? I could have sworn we've met before... ah, well, maybe I'm just senile, who knows. I am getting older.
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I woke up this morning and wondered how long I slept because it felt like forever. Also my back is sore and my head hurts again. Maybe I’ve just been overworking again, although I don’t remember much of yesterday. Also I swear I heard someone call my name when I woke up, but I live alone. Maybe I was just tired and hearing things. I’ll be fine, just need a cup of coffee and some Advil.
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