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ccohanlon · 3 years ago

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survival[ism]

The first real gun I ever saw - up close, I mean, not on television or anything like that — was a Beretta .22 semi-automatic pistol. All black, with diamond-shaped rubber inlays on the handle, it was so small it could almost fit in the palm of a child's hand, a discreet weapon which looked like a toy. I remember it made me nervous. Even unloaded, with its tiny magazine lying alongside it and the chamber empty, I couldn't quite shake the fear, something akin to vertigo, that the damned thing was animate, that it could go off on its own.

The Beretta was one of several firearms owned by a friend of mine in Los Angeles. He owned 30 or 40 knives too — World War I bayonets, switch-blades, Bowie knives and Filippino balasongs — but while he collected the cutlery for its own sake, the way some people collect antiques or butterflies or stamps, he made no bones about the firearms being around for self-protection. They were stashed all over his house — at the back of cupboards and drawers in his bedroom and study, even under the bench-seat of his Steinway grand piano — close at hand to deal with an intruder if, or more likely (in his mind) when, the need arose.

Not that this friend of mine was particularly paranoid, at least not in comparison with the rest of L.A.'s affluent whlte population. I soon learnt that, there, everyone coped best with the city's unpredictable craziness by adoptlng a siege mentallty: pull up the drawbridge and don't give the skells and psychos a chance. Owning a few guns was just a matter of being cautious, like always drivlng with the car doors locked, even ln broad daylight, anywhere outside Beverly Hills.

L.A. is crazy but I wasn't going to be sucked into it. I managed to reassure myself that as long as I didn't spend more than a fortnight there, and stuck close to the hotel swimming pool, I could probably avoid the locals' movie-stoked fetish for playing with real guns.

But I decided to buy one myself...just in case.

True pacifism is the finest form of manliness. But if a man comes up to you and cuts your hand off, you dont offer him the other one. Not if you want to go on playing the piano you don't. Sam Peckinpah, Playboy magazine, 1972.

I was told it was one of the more respected arsenals in the city but the gun shop I went to just off Hollywood Boulevard didn't bother to advertise that fact. The flat, un-named store-front was set back from the sidewalk behind a wide strip of concrete, a deliberate clearing or, more accurate1y, a DMZ between the steel-grilled and armoured-glass door and the street which offered no cover to anyone dumb enough to loiter with intent. The door was always locked. Customers had to press a buzzer to alert a sales assistant who would look them over from a window and, if they passed muster (in other words, if they seemed unarmed), admit them. The sales assistants were mostly bull-necked good ol’ boys with big pot-bellies and heavy lidded eyes, like hooch-swilling cartoon sheriffs from south of the Mason-Dixon line. Al had semi-automatic pistols strapped to their hips. Inside, the gun shop was a veritable supermarket for sudden, violent death. Two or three rows of glass-topped cabinets displayed every type of pistol, revolver, knife, blow-pipe and slingshot — this last, a highly developed version: a black alloy frame with a rubber wrist brace rigged with a hollow latex sling which fired quarter-inch steel ball-bearings and bore the ominous brand-name Black Widow. Dozens of rifles, shotguns, and even high-powered crossbows and sub-machine guns stood butt down and chained together in wooden racks along every wall.

"After anythin' particular?” one of the sales assistants drawled.

To tel1 the truth, I wasn't sure what I was after, if I was after anything at all, but I wasn't about to say “Just browsing, thank you” to this 280-pound redneck. Instead, I pointed at something which resembled an metal-plated milk carton or part of the drive shaft casing off a BMW motorbike, except that it had a hollow handle and a trigger, and asked, “What's that?”

His face lit up. “A Mini Uzi semi-auto. Fires nine millimetre Parabellum from a 20-round clip wilh a muzzle velocity of eleven hundred feet per second. Weighs 'round four pounds empty so it's heavy but real well-balanced. Have a hold of it. You'll see what I mean.”

I took fhe Uzi cautiously, like a kid being handed a guinea pig. I hefted it once from hand to hand and peered down the barrel through the ejection port. Not knowing what else I was expected to do with it, I handed it back.

"Nice huh?" he enthused.

"I guess.”

"Six hundred plus tax. You get one clip, an adjustment tool, a manual and a plastic case. There's a firing range downstairs if you wanna test it out. As long as you pay for the rounds, of course.”

Of course. But I wasn't convinced I needed an Uzi. "Maybe later," I said. "I think I'm looking for something, I dunno, a little smaller."

"No problem. You want semi-automatic or revolver? Something reliable like a Colt Python .357 or maybe a standard .38?”

"What about a Beretta .22?”

The sales assistant didn't bother to stifle his contempt. “Shit,” he sneered, “That's an old lady's gun, not worth a damn outside twenty yards. Stopping power, man, that's what you need these days.”

Stopping power. There was a deadly finality in the way he used those words and I had an abrupt, visceral understanding of what he meant. Death, quick and simple. Taking, say, a hollow-point .44 Magnum slug in the chest wouldn't just upset yor vital signs, it would knock your as-good-as-dead carcass off its feet. Spreading on impact like a squashed grape, the lead would tear an entry hole the size of a quarter in your flesh, then rip your sternum apart, probably puncture your lungs or heart, and sever your spinal cord before exiting in a bloody pulp below your shoulder blade.

"Yeah, stopping power. That's what you need,” the sales assistant repeated.

"Ugly notion,” I said.

He grunted with amusement. “These are ugly times.”

War is the enduring condition of man. It is part of the family, the crazy uncle we try, in vain, to keep locked in the basement. William Broyles, Newsweek magazine, 1984.

Even before I visited L.A., I had come across magazines like Soldier of Fortune, Survival Weapons, Survival Monthly and New Breed ("for the Bold Adventurer"). They were, still are, on sale everywhere in Sydney, at street-corner newsstands and suburban newsagents, even in the lobby of some of the better hotels. Imported monthly from — where else? — the U.S.A., these publications feature articles on everything from guerrilla warfare tactics in Afghanistan and coping wlth urban unrest in the aftermath of a nuclear war, to the stopping power — that word again — and adaptability of various pistol calibres (how could we forget that "the vital targets of combat pistol shooting consist of the brain, spinal cord and the long bones of the legs…") in between dozens of pages of ads for weapons, military paraphenalia, and mail-order books with titles such as Life After Doomsday and How To Kill. A cynic might describe them as stroke-books for the violently psychotic if it weren't for the curious mixture of cartoon-like bravado straight out of Marvel Comics' Sgt. Rock and folksy Field And Stream outdoorsmanship.

Soldier Of Fortune is the big daddy of them all. Created and edited by Robert K. Brown, a onetime U.S. Special Forces officer turned recidivist war junkie and Commie-baiter, its message, couched in the worst kind of jingoistlc propaganda and militaristic pap, is an almost Biblical warning to be ready for the worst which is about to befall us all. We live in a troubled age ... the end is near... the day of reckoning is at hand, we're told, as if it's something new and different and not just the same ancestral myth re-told to every generation affirming the ugliness of the human condition. But now, instead of repent and be saved, it's arm and protect yourself ("Don't get mad get even,” reads an ad in SoF's back-page classifieds. “Ex-Grey Seals 4-man assault team available. Qualified demolitions/weapons experts. Anything legal inside U.S.A., anything goes elsewhere.")

In short, survive.

Survivalism is the buzz-word, the Om-like mantra all these soldier-fantasy magazines have in common. Note 'survivalism' rather than just plain ‘survival’ — the -ism tacked onto it to give it the right flavour of pseudo-scientific purposefulness that no contemporary social fad can live long without. It also implies that what we are dealing with here is a complete ethos, a weltangschauung for the '80s, if you will, cleverly refined to assuage the nuclear angst of suburban middle-America. Survivalism is apparently the key to salvation, the means to overcome any threat, moral or physical, whether it's a Communist-inspired uprising (and two or more Latin Americans or Arabs having a drink together is evidence enough of a conspiracy) or nuclear fall-out. The information gleaned from survivalist read1ng is mind-boggling — how to winterise a 12-gauge shotgun, the quickest way to skin a bear, getaway driving in the family station wagon — and, who knows?, it might even be useful some day, but that's not really the point, as far as survivalist buffs are concerned. The point is that in a world where mass annihilation is just a matter of turning a couple of keys in a bunker somewhere, having even the most meagre means of self-preservation lets them kid themselves that they have a grip, however tenuous, on their own destiny and that when it comes to the crunch, they'll have a fighting chance against all that faceless destruction.

Harmless stuff, maybe. But if all survivalism amounted to was a kind of high-tech, urban cargo cult confined to Southern California, Ronald Reagan's home state, where carrying a gun is like wearing an amulet to ward off evil spirits — the greater the stopping power, the safer you are — then the rest of us could safely ignore it. Sadly, any idiot reading Soldier Of Fortune can make the lateral leap from an already doubtful philosophy of arm and protect to the instinct to kill or be killed, a throwback to baser territorial prerogatives and a primitive tendency to bloodlust. Because of this, survivalism sours. We're encouraged to stake a lonely claim to a place on this overcrowded planet and prepare to defend it to the death. It's a concept enshrined in the Amerlcan constitutlon and, if Jerry Falwell, Margaret Thatcher and Joh Bjelke-Petersen are to be believed, the Bible as well — "an eye for an eye” and so on — giving us the moral, although not yet the legal, right to shoot first and ask questions later.

Ugly days indeed.

Signs are, things are taking a turn for the worst. Like half-crazed laboratory rats which revert to cannibalism under stress, we are beginning to turn on each other with senseless acts of violence. A Vietnam veteran goes beserk with a sub-machine gun in a crowded MacDonald's restaurant in San Diego, killing and maiming scores of people before being nailed himself by a police SWAT team. A mlld-mannered man named Berhard Goetz is hassled by five young blacks on a New York subway; he draws an unlicensed gun from his coat pocket and shoots them dead (one in the back as he's fleeing) but a jury acquits him of second-degree murder to the applause of that city's subway commuters. Most recently, in one of those Norman Rockwell mid-western states, a scared kid stabs two bullies in a schoolyard with a double-edged blade, a so-called 'survival knife’ he'd bought in a local hunting shop.

Meanwhile, on the forested mountains of Humboldt County, California, and in the back-water swamps of Florida's Everglades and, who knows?, probably lots of other up-hollow places across the United States, Vietnam veterans and superannuated 'heads' from the '60s have taken to hiding — to grow sensimilla or smuggle coke or slmply cool out, as it were, in peace — and living outside the system. "Outlaws in Babylon," the writer Steve Chapple called them. Even in the cities and suburbs — not only in America; look at England, where Yorkshire mining towns and small Bedford villages have formed vigilante groups to combat threats as disparate as strike-breakers and hooded rapists — people are drawing very thin lines between security and sanity and beginning to play chicken with reality.

I would rather be judged by twelve than carried by six. An American policeman, quoted in Time magazine, 1981.

At the gun shop off Hollywood Boulevard, the redneck sales asslstant was talking about rifles : "The Colt AR15 and the Ruger Mini-14 are real favourites with buyers. The AR15's a semi-auto version of the Army's M16, see, so a lotta Viet vets go for it. Easy to shoot, easy to strip down.”

He cast a cautious glance around the shop before lowering his voice to add, "Truth is, some of them mess with the firing mechanism and convert 'em to full-on rapid-fire autos."

"Is that legal?" I asked. Silly question.

He shrugged. "The Ruger's got real popular since The A Team's been on T.V,” he said. “These kids from the Valley and executive-types in buttoned-down collars and Italian loafers come in here and lay down half a grand cash for the stainless steel version plus a couple of non-standard 2O-round banana clips. Hell, most of them don't know the butt-end from the barrel...excuse me a minute.”

The sales assistant had turned his attention to another customer, a grey-haired, strongly built man aged about 50 wearing a light-grey flannel suit and, yes, a buttoned-down collar and shiny leather shoes. But he wasn't an executive type. More like a cop or a military officer. There was discipline and an hard-edged severity in his manner, neither of which was a characteristic of Californian executives, most of whom were in the entertainment business and if they had a habit, apart from tennis, teenage girls and weekends in Palm Springs, it cost them a thousand bucks a week.

"Gimme a box of standard nines, please," the man said. He brushed aside the hem of his jacket to reach into his hip pocket for his wallet and I almost died of fright. He was carrying not just one, but two semi-automatic pistols — one in a leather holster clipped on hls belt, the other, smaller, shoved carelessly inside the waistband of his trousers. The sales assistant saw them too but he didn't bat an eyelid.

“See that?” he asked me after the nan had left the shop. I nodded. “Must've been a cop,” he said. "Either a cop or a very hip civilian. He'd have to be to walk around with a throw-down.”

"A throw-down?”

He gave me a look that dismissed me as a dumb-ass who had better get streetwise or end up dead. In a low growl which was his idea of a whisper, he explained. “An unregistered gun. If you're a cop and you shoot some poor schmuck makin' a run for it and he isn't armed, or if you shoot an unarmed intruder in your own home, you're lookin’ at manslaughter, maybe murder two. So you carry an unregistered gun and throw it down next to the body. That way, you can always claim self-defence.”

Ah, the American citizen's constitutional right to bear arms. He'll bear them whether he likes it or not, dead or alive.

The sales assistant cackled. "Liberty, justice and equality for all," he said. “Ain’t that what makes America great!” Having arms for self-defence is the natural right of resistance and self-preservation when the sanction of society and laws are found insufficient to restrain the violence of oppression. Sir William Blackstone, Commentaries, 1769.

It couldn't happen in Australia, I kept telling myself. No way.

Americans are crazy, everyone knows that. They're into every brand of pseudo-religlon and psycho-babble whether it's peddled by Reverend Moon, Ron Hubbard, Jim Jones or some johnny-come-lately with a ministry bought mail-order from the back of a cornflakes box. They're into jogging, est, stress therapy, primal screaming, tropical fruit diets, S and M, Scientology, Jane Fonda aerobics, junk food, jacuzzis, female body-building, cocaine, designer drugs, Star Wars, Dynasty, Deep Throat, Valium and low-carb diets.

And we're not.

The same with survivalism. It's a comfort to think we're too smart to be taken in by it ... isn't it?

I was sitting in a taxi on my way home from Sydney's Mascot Airport, half- conscious from jet-lag after 15 hours flying non-stop from the States, and the driver — "Call me Gino" — insisted on telling me a sorry tale about a mate of his who was badly beaten, and his cab broken up, by a bunch of vicious drunks outside a local rugby club.

"All because he wouldn't take eight of 'em up the Cross," Gino said. "Bastards. These things always bloody happen."

But not to him. Hidden in the arm-rest compartment between us on the front seat was a .32 callbre target pistol, loaded, according to Gino, who was a pistol club member and licensed to carry the gun. No-one was going to do him over and get away with it. An ambitious young fool tried it once: he leant over from the backseat, wrapped an arm around Gino's neck and threatened to crush his trachea if he didn't cough up the evening's takings. Gino jammed the .32's barrel up against the would-be mugger's nose. It frightened him so badly that he lost control of his bowels. Gino dumped hlm in a side-street gutter somewhere in the western suburbs — a pitiful bum in soiled underpants, blubbering obscenities at this mad Italian with a face like a spaghetti western bandit.

“I shoulda pulled the trigger,” Gino said, as cocksure as a man can be when he's armed — and you're not.

Welcome home.

When the going gels welrd, the weird turn pro. Hunter S. Thompson, The Great Shark Hunt, 1979.

A friend of mine 'phoned from the rainbow country last nlght. It was around midnight and he woke me from the best sleep I'd had since returning from L.A. But I was happy to hear from him nonetheless. The last time I had seen him was over lunch, six months ago, at a high-priced cafe in Sydney. He was working then as a research chemist for a multinational drug company and spent weekdays in a squeaky-clean laboratory with cages full of rats, which he used to test various toxins, narcotics and antibiotics. I liked him, even though he was very different to me — young, straight-arrow and ambitious, a career-minded guy with a doctorate in science.

But it seems he has undergone a change of heart.

Last month, he sold his bijoux Victorian terraced house in the clty and traded in his Porsche 911 for a Toyota Hi-Lux. He packed the few possessions he had decIded, out of sentimentality or practical foresight, not to sell, loaded them into the truck and headed north on Highway 1 unti1 he was within spitting distance of the border, well into the moist, verdant valleys west of Byron Bay. There, he bought a ramshackle fibro’ shack on a grassy knoll overlooking 40 acres of adequate grazing land. His parents thought he had gone crazy.

"I'd had enough,” he told me. "Every day the newspapers and the T.V. tell us how bad the world's become. People dying of hunger, another war or revolution, and all these half-assed politicians up to their elbows in slime. I didn't want to be a part of it anymore."

I know what he meant. I've had the same feeling myself sometimes. But unlike my friend, I've ignored the inclination to cut and run, to become another census statistic in the exodus to the lonelier outposts of this continent. These days, everyone is trying to duck the Damocles jack-hammer of the Apocalypse.

Not me. I flgure there is enough horror around without worrying about the end of the world. Nor, however, am I taking any unnecessary chances. I've moved out of the city to a big timber-framed place built back in the early 60s on a scrubby acre of headland 25 miles or so north of Sydney. It used to be the home of a notorious coke dealer who, pity, was offed on the doorstep last year by some strung-out punk wielding a shotgun. But I didn't know that when I rented it. I wanted the view. From every room, I can look north to an old lighthouse at the end of a peninsula and the green-black coast beyond, or east, to miles and miles of empty ocean. Only the Pacific stands between me and Valparaiso, Chile.

It's peaceful here and I intend to keep it that way. I've rigged alarms triggered by circuit-breakers on the doors and window, pressure pads under the carpet, and sonic sensors attached to the walls of every room. A simple switch illuminates the front and rear gardens with four quartz-halogen spotlights. I keep a loaded .44 Magnum Ruger carbine in the hallway closet and a double-bladed Gerber Guardian in a scabbard under the bed. Yesterday, a local dog-trainer phoned to tell me he'd found an affable German Shepherd which would make a very protective pet; I think I’ll build a kennel for him on the sundeck.

Survivalism, An ugly notion and, hell, these are ugly days, but I'm not going to be sucked into it.

First published (as Every Man For Himself) in the Australian edition of Penthouse, 1985.

#survivalism #preppers #guns #righttobeararms #USA #Australia #postapocalypse #dystopia

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imagines4undertale · 5 years ago

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Hello there! I am happy to find another blog for these! Hope you are doing well and staying safe. My ask is for Red, Mutt, and Brass. How would they deal with somebody flirting with their s/o and they are clearly uncomfortable? What would the out come be? Again stay safe and take as much time as possible!

I’m doing pretty good all things considered! I don’t have the time I originally thought I would, but I’m still dedicated to getting this blog rolling! This last week steam rolled me with school work so it took me a little longer than it normally will to reply. So, as this is my first ask these answers are going to be a little longer than they will likely be in the future. I hope you enjoy and tell me what you think!

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[UF!Sans(Red)-]

Red is always very protective of his s/o even if he doesn’t always show it outwardly. It mostly comes from taking care of his brother when he was little, so anytime someone he cares for is in danger or scared he is not going to think twice about stepping in. I’d say that the only time someone would get the chance to make his s/o uncomfortable to this degree without stepping in to scare the guy off would be if they seperated at a store or if they were meeting up somewhere for a date night.

You would be standing on the side of a movie theater with your butt resting on the wall waiting for Red to show up to watch the new thriller that just came out. He’s texting you that he was on his way, but his bro insisted that he put on a clean coat as “HE NEEDED TO SHOW HE WAS AN ACCEPTABLE DATE MATE” and “HE COULDN’T DEFILE THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS’ IMAGE, BY BEING SUCH A SLOB” and he would be there in a few. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and you look up from your phone to see a guy a few inches taller than you. He tells you that you have nice eyes and that it would be even nicer if you would give him your number. You decline nicely, saying you’re spoken for and are just waiting for your date. His face sours for a moment before he bounces back saying that it’s just a number and it wouldn’t hurt to just give it to him, your boyfriend doesn’t need to know. At this point, your gut is making knots and you feel uncomfortable with how close he’s getting. When he’s practically towering over you, you hastily tell him you’re really not interested in handing your number out to strangers. He looks like he’s about to speak again you see a skeletal hand tightly grip his shoulder.

“hey bud” Red’s voice rumbles out from behind the guy. “my lady friend ‘ere doesn’ seem to like your attention.” You could see the man visibly shutter before he turned around to face Red and smacked his hand off. You can see Red’s face from around the man’s arm. If looks could kill. Red’s eyes were empty and his smile looked tight on his face. “if i were you i’d get lost before i make you.” The man seemed to hesitate for a second before he muttered a small “fine” and shuffled around the corner. Red sighs as he relaxes his posture some and looks at you with his pinpricks returning. “you ok sweetheart?” You tell him you’re ok, just a little shaken. He takes your hands and raises them to give a skelle-kiss. “text me next time something like that happens hun, i’ll be there in an instant, angry brother be damned.”

[SF!Papyrus(Mutt)-]

Mutt lives up to his name. He’s like any good mutt dog, he is loyal to a fault, gentle, kinda lazy, but very protective when it is clear his loved ones are in danger. For the most part, his height and general air keeps people away from you, but if people start talking to you he’ll only step in when you seem to be out of your comfort zone. He knows you can take care of your own safety for the most part, so he doesn’t want you to feel like he thinks you can’t take care of yourself by stepping in too soon.

He’s looking through some different honey mustard at the store and you are halfway down the isle gathering other items on the list. You had offered to go to the store with him and help since his brother insisted Mutt go so he wouldn’t be late for training with Alphys. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed since it required him to move, but going with you made it more than okay. Mostly because you did most of the work. He had almost made the choice between his favorite mustards when he noticed you had started up a conversation with another person in the aisle. He had grabbed a particularly high and stubborn box for you on the top shelf and handed it to you. You seemed thankful and turned back to the list to mark it off. The guy took a look up and down your body, stopping in some not so savory spots. Strike one. You turned back to him when you realized he hadn’t walked off after helping you and he continued to talk to you about something. Your face scrunched up and your smile dropped like a rock at something he said. Strike two. Shaking your head, you told him no and pointed to the list in your hand. He reached his hand up to lean on the shelves and hovered down over you a bit. Mutt felt his body tense, he was just waiting for one movement and he would be there to plant this guy through the linoleum floor. He saw your head turn toward him and your sweet eyes just read help. Strike three. Before the guy could blink his arm was in a powerful vice grip. Mutt felt the tool struggle, but pulled him away from you about five feet before lifting him up by his arm to eye level. “look here buddy, i’m not one to go picking bones, but when a lady tells you to lay off you’d better lay t h e f u c k o f f.” Mutt’s voice reverberated off the aisles in an unnatural way like it was echoing of every surface. He dropped the guy flat on his ass, who then proceeded to scramble off and presumably out of the store. Mutt looked back to you only to realize the few people at the ends of the aisle were staring at him warily.

“hey kitty, i think you and i might want to hurry this whole thing up and get out of here.” You continue your shopping at a faster speed with more of Mutt’s help until he lowers his head to your level. “i forgot to ask you back there if you were doing ok. got worried we might get kicked out for that.” You tell him you’re okay, and give him a kiss on the cheek. His bones flare orange for a moment before he smiles and continues down the aisle by your side.

[MF!Sans(Brass)-]

Yeah, Brass isn’t letting anyone you don’t authorize within 5 feet of you unless he knows them. Being in his line of work, he knows that anyone could be a danger to him and the people he loves. If he can’t be with you his brother has to be there, or undyne, or any of the dogs, but never alone in public. So yeah no, this isn’t happening. That being said, if someone within the family tried to flirt with you…

You like to go walk around main street on the weekends to look at the shops and get some fresh air. Normally, Brass will come with you and spoil you with some new dress or a sweet from one of the shops, but today he was called in for a mission. Most of the higher ups of the family had been called in as well so that left you under the care of one of the newer dog recruits. Brass promised you that he would finish up as fast as he could and would make up for it with a nice dinner out that night. You really didn’t mind, you know he works hard despite his lazy label from the rest of the family. What you do mind is the way the new meat was eyeing you. It was common for you to gain attention for being the arm candy of one of the top mafia men of the city, but it didn’t usually land solely on your chest and behind. You had tried to make small talk with him as you did with many of your temporary guards, but most of it came back to your looks or why you were with your skeletal lover when you could get with anyone. Eventually, you just opted for silence instead.

You saw a store you visit regularly and went to push open the door. Quickly, your dog guard pushes in behind you one hand on the door to push and one firmly placed on your rear. It pasted in the blink of an eye, but it had happened nonetheless. You feel the urge to scream at him and run off, but that would call attention to you and leave you without protection till you got home. There had been more than one attempt on your life at this point and as much as you hated this, it was better than the alternative. You bought the things you wanted from the shop and walked back out of the shop, this time making the dog leave first, and told him you wished to head back home. The two of you started on your way back with him about a foot behind you. Everything was fine until you had turned the corner near where you had parked and he pulled you into an alleyway by your wrist. He slammed your back into the wall and pinned you in with his arms on either side of your head.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing!” You yell in his face as you push on his chest to get him off.

“Oh come on, I want a little of what the Boss man is getting. How much is he paying you for your services? I’ll match it and he’ll be none the wiser.” He leaned down with a wolfish grin as he reached down to lift your skirt.

“I am NOT a prostitute!” You swiftly knee him in the balls and shove him away from you. The dog stumbles back clutching his wound. He looks up at you and raises a clawed hand to bring down on you before he is grabbed by the back of his jacket and tossed like a wet rag out of the alley. Brass stands before you now with heaving breaths.

“sorry i’m late toots.” He quips to you before following the dog he just bounced off the concrete. “might wanna to stay there till I finish this up.”

You hear screaming from outside the alley with what sounds like some rushed apologies and a particularly loud crack. Brass walks back into the alley after about 10 minutes with the dog in toe, tail between his legs. He has a particularly large bruise on his eye and is clutching his arm. His apology is long and he ends it with a deep bow to you.

“‘right you mutt, be on your way before i break something else.” Brass flicks his head toward the alley entrance and the dog bolts off with a noticeable limp. Once he’s gone, Brass gives an audible sigh and picks you up bridal style. You attempt to protest, but he insists he take you to the car. “i know you’re not a fan o’ my tactics when it comes to these things love, but i have to make sure they know who’s boss.” He places you gently in the passenger seat of the car before getting in the driver’s site. “now, how’s ‘bout i take us home and we eat in tonight instead? I’ll spoil you n’ everything sugar.” He winks as he starts up the car.

(First answer, and I hope you like it, tell me what you think!)

#undertale imagines #sans au #papyrus au #UF!sans #US!papyrus #MF!sans #sans #Papyrus #First ask!#Longest text post I've ever done #Thank you for the ask!#babybonkaboo

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popatochisssp · 6 years ago

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I know asks are closed and all but I just gotta send this before I forget lol. I was reading through your master post and I saw the scientist S/O asks and well, how would the skells be if their S/O was more into the arts? The fine arts and/or illustrative kinds. Even out that questionnaire playing field ya know aha XD I also wanna ask what if S/O is on passionate on both but I feel that the skells are just excited and happy cuz sib and s/o gets along aha

Combining these because they have a similar gist to them– the boys with artistically-minded/craft-making s/o’s! (As opposed to a scientifically-minded s/o…)

Sans (Undertale): Hey, that’s pretty neat! Expect him to be a great cheerleader whenever you’re in the middle of your latest project, telling you that this or that’s coming along great and that you’re doing a really good job. He’s a very supportive guy as long as you don’t expect him to get up or do something. ;3

Papyrus (Undertale): He’s starry-eyed…or he would be, if he had eyes! He thinks whatever you’re making is really creative and cool and definitely wants to get involved somehow. If he can’t help physically, he at least has a lot of ideas and input for different techniques you could try, or hey, it might turn out even cooler if you did this… He can actually get… a little intrusive… but it’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s so genuine about it!

Sky (Underswap Sans): He gets pretty invested, too! He’s very curious about all kinds of hobbies and projects and crafts so if you’ve got a way you like to express yourself, he wants to know about it. He’d like to participate, too, but he’s respectful of boundaries. If you work better solo, he’s okay with that– he’d still like to see how you do it so he can have a good place to start, himself, but he’ll leave you to your own thing if that’s the way you like it. …Aside, of course, from interrupting you every couple of hours to make sure you’re hydrating and sitting properly and the lights are actually on because he knows how you creative-types get when you’re on a roll and you gotta take care of yourself!

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): He’s interested but doesn’t try to involve himself. If it’s something that he can watch easily, though, he’d really like to do that, just to see your process a little bit. He’s actually great to have on hand because he doesn’t mind being an assistant if you need a tool or a skein or a different pen passed to you but don’t really wanna get up or risk losing your flow. He can quietly watch you making a thing for hours without saying a word and he considers it time well spent.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): He’ll leave you alone whenever he comes across you making something, but don’t assume it’s because he doesn’t care or isn’t interested. He’s just a little cautious ‘cause he’s pretty tsundere about his own crafts and isn’t sure if you’re the same, or…? But if you’re open about whatever stuff you make, he’d be happy to take a look at it or receive it as a gift or however you want him to be involved. He definitely gets the satisfaction to be had in creating something with your own two hands, even if he’s not the most creatively-minded and he’s honestly a little touched that you want to share that with him in some way!

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Dedicate it to him. Whatever thing you’re making, whether it’s a song or a story or something as utterly weird to dedicate to somebody as a felt hat, he will be so happy and proud and sing the thing’s praises to anyone who’ll listen. …But that’s just an excuse, he would do that anyway, whether you dedicate it or not. He boasts loudly and often about his creative artist of a datemate because he thinks it’s the coolest thing ever– no matter what you come out with, even if you’re certain that it’s the worst thing you’ve ever made in your life, he loves it and will gladly point out everything you nailed about it while waving off its flaws as you being your own worst critic. And if it’s really so bad… doesn’t that just mean you should practice more? Go on, make another thing! It’ll be even more amazing this time, he’s sure of it!

Mal (Swapfell Sans): ………He’s jealous. He won’t take it out on you, ever, because he knows that would be messed up but he really is jealous that you’re good at this creative thing that he has no talent for whatsoever. It’s kinda compounded because his brother’s also really good at artsy stuff and he…sucks at it. It’s not important, it shouldn’t matter, he’s good at other things, him sucking at this obviously has no correlation to his worth as a person, but seeing you be all…creative, making cool things when the closest he’s come to anything decent is a few poorly-whittled animal figurines that he keeps stuffed in the bottom of a drawer… He’s a little jealous. Do your best not to rub it in his face that he’s not the creative type, he’ll try to hide it but it’d actually really hurt his feelings if ever you criticize him for being unimaginative or stodgy.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Ohhhh, he loves it, whatever you’re doing, he loves it and thinks is so awesome. If it’s at all possible, he’s likely to suggest some kind of collab project– something the two of you can work together on, combining your skills to make something neither of you could do alone– but if your medium is such that you can’t quite make that work, he’s happy to watch and compliment you on whatever thing you’re making. If he’s familiar with the medium, he may offer up a tip or two, hesitantly, if it seems like you’re stuck somewhere, but otherwise he’ll mind his own business. It’s probably a common occurrence to find yourself in the middle of something and suddenly Rus is there, too, doodling away at a project of his own in the same space as you.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): He’s another one who likes to watch but instead of straight-cheerleading, he likes to ask a lot of questions. ‘what’s that for?’ or ‘why’re ya’ doin’ it that way?’ that kind of thing. The intent isn’t to annoy you, he’s actually trying to help you with a bit of rubber duck debugging– and he’s the rubber duck. He’s good at picking out details of things and he likes knowing more about stuff, even if there’s a good chance he’ll forget it later, so he figures he may as well use that as a force of good and do it so that maybe you’ll realize another, cooler thing you could do, or how to work around that mistake you may’ve made back there, or inspire yourself because while explaining it to him you just figured out the best possible thing to do next! He likes feeling helpful like that.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Very supportive! He also wants to be involved somehow because that’s such a cool hobby/skill you have and he’d like to be part of this thing you like! He asks a lot of questions about it, too, but the very first one is going to be something along the lines of, ‘Can I Help?’ because he’d hate to butt in on anything you wanted to have just for yourself. If your answer is yes, he’s a fantastic student paying eager attention to every little thing you tell him about your craft. He may go off privately for a bit sometime after, once he’s ready to try making something on his own– he’s a little too embarrassed to show you his first and assuredly disastrous attempts– but he’ll get the hang of it quick and come back to show you what he came up with. Maybe you can do something together next time, or he can just watch you, or help you out! You tell him, he’s just happy to be part of it!

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crackimagines · 6 years ago

Note

Chiaki Nanami gains powers from random video game heroes(for examples: Mario's Jump/power ups, Sonic's speed, Megaman's mega buster, moves from Street Fighter characters, etc. etc.) and fights badguys (like Junko and/or whichever characters you choose that can be from any other franchise other than Danganronpa)

Huh, reminds me of Ready Player One!

Thanks for the ask anon, sorry for the wait, and I hope you enjoy!

“Alright Junko, LET’S DANCE!”

GAME: Persona 3, Ability: Persona Evoker

(Chiaki) “THANATOS!”

CLICK!

(Chiaki I’M GETTING MY FRIENDS OUT OF HERE, I WON’T FAIL LIKE LAST TIME!”

(Junko) “That’s what you think ya little bitch!”

Several Monokuma’s hopped out of cover and charged Chiaki.

Thanatos swung rapidly, cutting down the incoming Monokumas by the dozen, thinning their ranks but not slowing them down fast enough.

It grabbed one Monokuma and tore him in half, before letting out a bloodcurdling screech, summoning a blue orb above them and detonating it, sending limbs flying everywhere.

Junko laughed, barely flinching as several dozen more took their place.

(Junko) “You can’t stop this Chiaki, I WILL WIN THIS!”

(Chiaki) “Damn, this isn’t cutting it! Alright, Plan B!”

Thanatos retracted into her as she sheathed her Evoker and reached into her pocket.

As they were closing in, she pulled up a sleeve, revealing a datapad on her wrist.

(Chiaki) “Requesting Skell support!”

The pad flickered, with a shadow enveloping Chiaki’s position, and flew in behind her, the object activating Thrusters before it hit the ground, grabbing Chiaki and putting her what appeared to be a cockpit.

(Chiaki) “Time to even the odds!”

Game: Xenoblade Chronicles X, Ability: SKELL

The Skell flew into the air firing the machine gun in one hand and activating the shoulder mounted weapons, blowing holes into the forces of Junko.

While trying to reload, several Monokumas hopped onto the Skell, trying to stab and impale the vital parts.

Chiaki shook them off by spinning in the air while pushing thrusters to max, and she put the gun on her legs, pulling out a beam saber.

Literally slicing through hundreds of them at once, she slid across the ground, wiping out entire platoons of enemy Monokumas in an instant, while also firing the shoulder guns, wiping out even more from a distance.

A warning beep displayed from her systems, and the Skell turned around to see a Monokuma had fired a rocket launcher into the main camera, causing the Skell to fall onto the ground disabled.

(Chiaki) “Damn! I need a bigger gun!”

Ejecting from her Skell, she was surrounded by Monokuma’s who were circling the downed Skell.

Chiaki took a deep breath, pulling out a shotgun from the cockpit, putting in earphones.

(Junko) “What is she-OH GOD NO.”

Chiaki put on the track ‘Rip and Tear’.

Game: DOOM (2016) Ability: Super Shotgun (aka FUCK SHIT UP)

She jumped into the crowd, crushing several Monokuma under her feet, pulling the trigger, cleaving through the hordes of them, jumping from head to head while reloading and repeating the process.

Chiaki hit one of them in the face with the butt of the shotgun before putting it on her back, and ripping him in half with her bare hands.

She then punched through several more, using their guts to armor herself as more and more kept coming in.

However, the amount of them were finally beginning to slow down as Chiaki kept killing more and more, her fists slaughtering them more than Thanatos and the Skell combined.

Junko watched in horror as her Monokuma’s was going into the meat grinder that was Chiaki, quickly killing all of them, seemingly as easy as it was to breathe.

Junko could hear the music, and as she noticed as the song went on, the killing became faster and more brut-

Junko crawled onto her knees, and got into the fetal position.

Knowing that Chiaki had gained the Ultimate Ability in any game.

Pure Unadulterated Rage.

#danganronpa 2 #danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #shitpost #dr2 #sdr2 #Chiaki Nanami #junko enoshima #monokuma

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junkyardlynx · 6 years ago

Text

so i’m gonna make a pretty selfish request that doesn’t have to do with curing my horrifying face-tennis-elbow (which is fine now thank god) or other poor ailments. this is an actual just genuine selfish thing since i don’t really have family or anything to ask. feel free to ignore, but i am offering writing commissions if that interests you at all.

i need to upgrade my phone sometime soon-ish because the battery dies faster than my grandma in a hot car. that’s a joke. it’s winter. the cars in this area are not hot. this fictional grandma is okay. but my phone battery isn’t. i’m currently using a note 5 that’s been through a bit of abuse and having my phone die halfway through my shift is getting somewhat old. to complicate matters, the cigarette lighter in my car sucks total donkey-butt and only has one specific position it works in, so charging anything off it is a pain.

so, i wanted to offer commissions to raise like $150, $200 dollars for myself to buy a newer phone for the holidays. that’s it. i just want to do something nice for myself over the holidays since christmas is on the 25th and my birthday is january 14th and i generally don’t do anything nice for myself on a usual basis, much less a holiday basis. you can always just slap a 5 on my titties and tell me to have a nice day, i’m not telling you you can’t, but hey. anyway.

here’s the price breakdown.

poetry: 25 USD. can be over anything - abstract concept based on one words, an entire skeleton (literal or literary) to follow, whatever. i’ll write your naruto x sasuke fanfiction into pure poetry. that sounds kinda fun, actually. if i do this, i expect you to read it to one of the early 2000′s AMVs loitering around on youtube.

short stories: 35 USD. short stories is a pretty broad topic because well, hey, if it’s short and it’s a story, it goes here. any original fiction you wanted produced - say you have this great idea for a horror story involving a door, the middle of the woods, and a strange buzzing heard only within specific areas of the woods but you can’t really articulate it - or any fanfiction goes here. i have a wide variety of interests and knowledge but if you want to double check with me, just ask “hey, spencey, you know about fuckin’...xenoblade chronicles x?” and i’ll be like “skell yeah i do bro, hook me up with the DEETZ.” except the chances i say “deetz” are somewhat low. skell yeah is a perfect pun and i won’t hear otherwise.

so yeah, that’s about it. hit me up if you want something written. my writing can be found here if you want to peruse my finest dwarven crafts.

i love you, drive safe, pull over if you get tired. call me later.

#writing #commissions #writing commissions

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fearofaherobrine · 6 years ago

Text

Roleplay Server Log #397

"Nether Rescue, Plucked Phoenix, Pineapple Curl”

[Winston] Dispatches of a couple of wither skeletons that had charged them at the top of the fortress-

[Helm] - forcably guides Legion into the fortress halls, which other than Winston, is eerily quiet - There should no one in here, the battle wiped everyone out. Why are they here?

[Winston] - Just because they were wiped out in the past doesn't mean a few wouldn't come back. For awhile this would be the safest place if there were very few here

[Helm] - frowns, remembering their not to distant past - There are far more than any of us liked, the meanest biggest one commands the rest. They control... Or rather attempt to, the other mob's... And not obeying isn't an option. That's why I left when I had a chance.

[Winston] - Don't worry, I will not allow you to be dragged back into all of this

[Helm] I'm more worried they found Sammn.

[Doc] if there's Someone making trouble here I'm happy to take them out. I don't need the headache of organized hostile mobs.

[Winston] - If it comes down to it, the Matter can take command here

[Helm] The only thing preventing that is most of my kin... aren't the brightest. The Skells spent more time coraling them & getting them to listen than working on more elaborate plans.

[Sammn] - drags herself up & starts trying to figure out a way out. It doesn't take long to figure out she's in a small 3x3 sealed space. Putting her head against the warm wall, she struggles to listen for any sounds.

[Doc] Is following her signal and hir boots ring sharply on the nether brick floor. - I don't think involving Cp is necessary.

[Winston] - For now

[Doc] Rounds on him- no, not ever. If i have to rage around here myself to put things in order I will. I'm not having Cp organize an army under my nose and then bitch about how stressed out he is. I hate to pull this card, but I pay the rent here. He doesn't.

[Sammn] - thinks she hears faint voices, but can't be sure. Not knowing what was surrounding her, she doesn't want to risk teleporting. Drawing her knife, she starts striking the wall, giving off a dull ringing -

[Winston] - I am not arguing with you Doctor, just stating what I know works

[Legion] - has lagged behind, stopping in an intersection. Giving a look toward the others, it hops down a different hall -

[Doc] Glances back- unless you want to be lost you better get your cubic butt back here.

[Legion] - grumbles but slowly hops back -

[Winston] - How much farther Doctor?

[Doc] She's very close... Sammn?

[Winston] Keeps an eye on their surroundings-

[Sammn] - hears something and starts hitting the wall harder -

[Winston] Turns his head towards one of the walls, hearing the thuds- Doctor...

[Helm] - goes over to the wall, listening - What is that?

[Doc] I'm gonna find out- They start breaking the wall away with gusto. - Hang on, we're coming!

[Sammn] - hears louder voices and backs up -

[Doc] Breaks through the wall- Sammn! Are you hurt???

[Sammn] - blinks in surprise - Doc? What are you doing here?

[Helm] - peaks into the hole and sighs in relief - We have been looking for you.

[Doc] Looking for you! You've been missing for days. Your pigman friend and pet bird were beating the fuck out of Legion because they thought it did something to you.

[Sammn] Days? - stumbles out - And why where you beating Legion, Helm? [Helm] Cause since it did this - looks annoyed as they point out her arm with the blackened area on her wrist - you have been acting strange. Then you suddenly disappear and it ran off.

[Doc] Do you remember anything?

[Sammn] I remember thinking I needed to get somewhere I could think without it hurting. - looks confused - But, now... It's started again.

[Legion] Our mark should not be causing pain.

[Doc] Either way, I think we should get out of here.

[Winston] - Agreed, I can hear others farther down

[Doc] Shall we take the fast way now that we're not worried about wrecking or being noisy?

[Helm] Yes, the faster the better.

[Doc] Goes back down the hall a little. And shapeshifts, breaking the ceiling away and then headbutting a wall so the blocks make a crude slope back down to the shore of the lava lake-

[Helm] - climbs out, stopping to help Sammn -

[Legion] - growls and starts hopping it's way down, slipping halfway and tumbling the rest of the way down -

[Doc] Oooch. I'd help you but you said it's not safe to touch you. - they scuttle down the slope and protect the others as they run back to the portal.

[Winston] Traverses the terrain easily-

[Legion] - more grumbling as it rights itself -

[Doc] Picks up a block and uses it to push Legion fully upright.

[Legion] - flails at the block - Cease, we are fine.

[Sammn] - watches them, then turns to look around the area. When she does, it becomes clear there is a large red stain on her side, with several small holes burned into her dress.

[Doc] Sniffs at her. - You are very injured... -They hurry her to the gate- Go inside. I'll go last-

[Helm] - shuffles her ahead and through -

[Winston] Steps through as well-

[Legion] - follows -

[Doc] Shrinks down and changes hir mode to survival again briefly before crossing through.

[Mb] Is loafing on the other side. - Have fun chuckleheads?

[Sammn] - once thru, groans in pain - [Legion] - stares at Sammn's side - The Mark has been triggered again.

[Doc] Do you know what it's responding too?

[Legion] - it's orange eye looks at Doc - She was our Host. What triggers it, we do not know, but it prevented us from taking full control.

[Doc] Geeze... And you said I can't heal it for you...? What if I tried to numb it by cutting your connection to that part of your skin?

[Sammn] I don't know, you can try.

[Mb] How bout you get the fuck out of my place first?

[Doc] Yes, yes. Come on, let's go to my house.

[Winston] - If you do not mind, I will return to my Master's place

[Doc] If you wish, thank you for your help Winston.

[Winston] Nods respectfully before heading off-

[Doc] Offers Sammn an arm and helps her walk the short distance to the side door.

[Sammn] - each step makes her flinch more and more. At the door, she pulls away from Doc. - Stop, stop.

[Doc] What? What's the matter?

[Sammn] When you touched my arm, it got worse. Considerably.

[Doc] Pulls away uncertainly - Am I the one setting it off???

[Sammn] I don't know, it has been hurting on and off as I've been traveling around. Out by my place, it hurts less. Over here, it's constant.

[Doc] Is it proximity to Herobrines in general?

[Sammn] - looks worried - That would make sense, but why?

[Legion] -garble-laughs as it's orange eye glows - It is his Mark, His summoner.

[Doc] So... it's trying to keep you out of the influence of other brines? Maybe?

[Sammn] - looks angry - I am rapidly getting tired of this.... I can't think straight, I can't sleep. I can't remember why? I'm beginning to think it would have been better to just have left me wherever you found me.

[Doc] Looks rather hurt - I'm just trying to help... I think we need to find your friend. And if you're that desperate.... I know a place with no brines and you won't be expected to do anything.

[Sammn] - tries to calm down - I'm not ungrateful Doc, I know you are not the cause of my issues. No one here is. My apologies... I just feel broken.

[Doc] Wilts- I know that feeling all too well.... But my offer stands. No brines.

[Sammn] - shakes head - No. Trying to avoid it hasn't helped, so maybe it's time to confront it head on.

[Doc] I wonder what would happen if you got close to the big summoner?

[Sammn] Big summoner?

[Doc] Points to the high skinny tower behind the shrine. There's a black beacon at the top of it ringed by flaming netherrack- It's mostly full of slime blocks but there's a basic summoner tower at the top and a special reversed summoner TLOT built for Steve.

[Sammn] At this point, I'm willing to try. It's either that or get someone to look at my dreams.

[Doc] Let's try this first and then bug Cp. I wonder if... - Xe calls for Deerheart over the chat.

[Deer] Responds and starts making her way towards them-

[Doc] Waits for hir mate-

[Deer] - Comes out- Yes love? What do you need?

[Doc] For some reason me touching Sammn is paining her. Sammn? Can you just graze Deerheart and see if it's the same with her?

[Sammn] - reaches out and touches her, then shakes her head - Nothing. Who's the next closest Brine?

[Doc] Well I was thinking... Deerheart? Can you fly Sammn over near the summoner?

[Deer] - Sure, I can do that- She steps away and shifts her shape- Climb on Sammn

This message has been removed.

[Sammn] - climbs on -

[Deer] Flies her up to the summoner- Here we go

[Sammn] - braces herself, expecting the worse -

-At the top of the tower the golden summoner burns merrily and it's diamond echo glitters in the sunlight above the room-

[Sammn] - can feel some weird pull - How close can you get?

[Deer] - I can knock out some of the glass and you can go right in if you want?

[Sammn] Please.

[Deer] Carefully knocks out a couple blocks and gets close enough for Sammn to jump in-

[Sammn] - jumps in and stumbles as the pull gets stronger. Walks toward the golden summoner, each step increasing the pull. Reaching out, the symbol on her side flares bright red and burns her dress over it. Forcing herself to touch the summoner, she screams but keeps her grip. For one brief second, anyone sensative to the summoner feels its pull and it's gone. Sammn releases her grip and plops down, dazed.

[CP] In chat- Who's fucking doing what now!?

[Mb] chat- Stop playing with that fucking thing!!!

[TLOT] chat- Is someone in trouble?

[Sammn] - blinks a few times then slowly manages to access chat - I think u were right doc that hurt

[Doc] Is fretting. - You called out at least. The summoner does reach beyond the server when it's used intentionally. The only way to increase the range is to.. throw a live animal on the fire....

[Helm] - is freaking out - What!

[CP] In chat- You'd just call me if you did that Doc

[Doc] chat- You're not the only Herobrine that likes a sacrifice Cp.

[Mb] Chat- Yeah, I like a good BBQ.

[Sammn] - closes eyes and hears something, not with her ears. It's a faint voice, fimilar but she can't make out any words. Opening her eyes, she types in chat - Doc I can hear someone

[Doc] chat- That's a good start. Can you get a sense of a direction? Or understand what they're saying?

[Sammn] direction sorta words no

[Deer] Quietly- Sammn? Do you need help getting out?

[Sammn] - looks up and tries to get up, fails and plops back down - Probably. Don't feel like I have the energy to do much but sit. Sorry.

[Deer] Shifts back and slips inside- It's okay, I'll take you to one of the recovery rooms if you want

[Buff] Peeks up from the stairwell- Is everyone okay up here?

[Deer] - Ah, perfect timing Buff, do you think you can help me move Sammn?

[Sammn] - looks dazedly at Buff -

[Buff] Sure! I'd love to help. - He notices the big bloodstain- You look hurt! I'll be gentle. - He scoops her up as easily as a kitten and cradles her to his huge chest. - Where are we going too?

[Deer] - The recovery rooms downstairs

[Buff] Absolutley! -Starts walking downstairs.

[Doc] in chat- Is everything okay over there?

[Deer] In chat- For the most part yes, I'm having Buff help me move Sammn to a recovery room

[Doc] Good- They glance over- Legion, Helm, you two should still come inside.

[Helm] - darts toward the door in a panic -

[Legion] As you wish.

[Doc] And if you want food ASK. I have pets, leave them alone.

[Buff] Takes Sammn all the way across the house and down to a warm room near the lava pools in the lab.

[Sammn] - is mumbling - The lieutenants needs to move the others .. (mumble) Only the knights... (mumble)

[TLOT] Hears them coming and comes up the stairs with Steve to check on them- Oh dear.

[Steve] Sammn?

[Buff] Poor thing.

[Deer] - I wouldn't get too close TLOT

[TLOT] Okay.... - he stays outside the door to the room.

[Sammn] - mumbles - Take the king out first...

[Steve] Is she dreaming about chess?

[TLOT] I can find out? - He brushes her mind to see what's going on.

- Sees a castle under seige, a flash of people fighting next to mobs, attacking armored people. Normal people are running away. A cowering old man, dressed in red and royal blue, begging. Then what looks like a Steve attacking. Halls rushing by, then a room with 2 figures: a Brine, on the ground with a Notch moving toward them with a glowing hammer. Running, a shield rising and the hammer shattering it while someone screams "no", then nothing -

[TLOT] Uses his abilities to relay the image to Doc and Cp. Steve, Buff and Deerheart also get the gist of it since they're nearby.

[CP] Responds with a sharp mental jab- AM I SERIOUSLY NOT ALLOWED FIVE MINUTES OF PEACE!?

[TLOT] Winces- OOOWWW! Don't fucking do that!

[CP] - THEN STOP INTERUPTING ME!

[Doc] Is at the top of the stairs and unsure how to get Legion down them.

[Legion] - leers at the steps, then sighs - Move, Doctor. - with its tentacles, it tips itself and flop falls down to land surprisingly, upright. Another annoyed sigh and it hops out of the way.

[Doc] Sorry. I feel bad not helping... - They follow it down and then stand with TLOT in the doorway.

[Helm] - comes racing behind, looking for Sammn -

[Doc] She's right here Helm, it's okay.

[Steve] Yikes!

[Helm] - comes to sudden halt seeing her, then turns to sign - Are you sure?

[Steve] OH! - He signs to the pigman- She's just passed out.

[Helm] - frets - I don't like this, but as long as she's ok.

[Doc] We'll look after her.

[Violet] Comes up behind them with a bit of a bony rattle-

[Buff] Tucks the blanket over Sammn a bit.

[Deer] - Just let her rest for now

[Buff] I'll sit with her for a bit. I wasn't doing anything much.

[Helm] - darts over and sits on the floor next to the bed. Then signs to Legion - Don't make me go looking for you demon! I will have Wright rip your eyes off! [Legion] - grumbles, but tucks its tentacles into itself and leers at Helm with its blue eye - As you demand, beast.

[TLOT] No need for fighting or insults. I'm more concerned about Sammn right now.

[Deer] - Come on, we should leave them be for now

[Doc] Stands back so the others can leave the room.

[Buff] Stays with Sammn-

[Steve] Gestures vaguely at Legion- Um????

[Doc] Just don't touch them.

-NK has reached out mentally for TLOT, and upon finding him places a single query that translates to "Where are you?" -

-After a moment it's appended to "I'm ready to take your offer on looking through my memories, if you're still offering."-

[TLOT] Stops placing blocks and responds mentally. - I'm in the desert working on the dinosaur pen. If you want to come over.

[Yaunfen] Is playing with Fru, trying to keep them occupied.

[Waffles] Tries busking on Steve and almost knocks him over.

[Steve] Hey!

[NK] -I'll be over in a minute. Thank you.-

[Yaunfen] What's going on?

[TLOT] Nk needs a hand with something.

[Steve] It's okay Yaunfen, I'll keep working.

-Nk comes trudging over a hill toward the group, A lightfoot is scuttling along after him-

[TLOT] hops up on the wall and points at a small sandhill a little ways away that will let him climb up on the edge of the partially built wall.

[Yaunfen] Peeks over- Hi Nk! [dragon form]

[Nk] -Is quick to make it over, the lightfoot huffs since they can't before taking off- Hey... Yaunfen, was it?

[Yaunfen] Yep!

[Fru] Also wanders close, snuffling around.

[TLOT] You haven't met Doc's kiddo Nk?

[NK] Oh I have, I just wasn't sure if I remembered the name right. -Sheepish look- -Completely calm as Fru sniff snoffs his hair very close up.-

[Yaunfen] Giggles- This is Fru.

[TLOT] A result of my seed bleeding into theirs apparently. Doc says they're a type of redeye?

[NK] Oh yes, I'd say that for sure. Hello Fru. -Calmly pats Fru as Fru sniff snoffs his hair one more time-

[Fru] Gives Nk's hair a lick and makes a face.

[Yaunfen] BAD.

[TLOT] You're fine as long as you don't have candy on your person.

[NK] Oh you're usually fine with Redeyes as is, as long as you have a scarab. -Pushes his now slimy hair back into place.- Now I was here... about your offer to help me with my memories?

[TLOT] Of course. Let's get down on the ground.

[Yaunfen] I can help! - They grab Nk in their paws and put him on the ground gently-

[TLOT] Just hops down and lets his boots take the brunt of the impact.

-The ground of the pen is already the cake dirt blocks form Yaunfen's seed.-

[Fru] Wanders over to menace Steve a bit-

[Steve] Arrgh!

[Waffles] Is having a noisy drink in the little pond of fizzy soda/water

[NK] Well that's an interesting dirt block. Thank you Yaunfen.

[Yaunfen] You're welcome, and they're tasty too! excuse me! - They pad over quickly to herd Fru away from Steve.

[TLOT] Wait, you know about the scarabs too right? We think we found the equivalent on the candy seed. - He takes out the lollipop with the bug in it and shows it to Nk.

[NK] Of course.. Let me see.... Yes, that looks like it'd definitely be one.

[TLOT] Good. They tend to get a bit out of hand, especially as big as they are. Shall we find a spot in the shade to sit down?

[NK] Sure, after you. I'd also invest in making a copy of it, you'll need it if you accidentally hatch any others like that.

[TLOT] Good call. - He motions for Nk to follow and they go to a far corner of the pen where there are a few scattered chocolate wood blocks by the trap door out. He dusts a bit of loose sugar off one and sits on it.

[Yaunfen] Running Fru in circles with a toy like one would a cat-

-NK sits down himself by TLOT-

[NK] So how does it work?

[TLOT] Shrugs- I'm naturally psychic. And being the native here enhances my abilities. -He focuses on Nk and cocks his head slightly, thinking. His eyes seem to get brighter and brighter until they're all Nk can really focus on. He makes a small gesture like opening a door and digs a little deeper, gently poking around in Nk's thoughts.

-There's a thump as Fru bumps into the the wall.

[Yaunfen] Whoops! Be careful!

[NK] I... see.... -His voice trails off and TLOT finds that once he gets to NK's memories he... can't go any further?-

[TLOT] Hmmmm, you have a sort of..blockage...? Like your memories are knotted up. But it doesn't feel alien. More like you've repressed some memories....

[NK] I... had a feeling that was the issue. I could get to a certain point and just... nothing. People with one of these, -He taps a claw against the diamond in his chest- recall their memories differently... Hmm... Can... Can you fix it? Or give me a hand?

[TLOT] Can you be more specific about how you mean 'differently'? I don't want to damage your brain if it's set up in some strange way.

[Waffles] Wanders over hoping for pets-

[NK] I... It's hard to explain to people who don't have their minds set up this way.... Uhh… Here. -He presses at TLOT's mind and a vague impression crosses over, it's NK standing in an empty room, with a single door infront of him. He's confused, as beyond the door is.. nothing?- That's why I.. finally decided to ask for help. I've never just had... nothing, in my memories. It's... disconcerting.

[TLOT] That's helpful for visualization at least... - He tries again, this time seeing himself next to Nk. He guides the other brine closer to the door in his mind. - Perhaps we just need to look at it from a different angle. - He presses on the wall around the door, moving it inexorably backwards until the door is just free standing in the room. He leads Nk around to the opposite side of the door- Now try opening it from this side.

-Now, they can see something blurry through it, It's nowhere near clear or concise, but it seems to make sense to NK as he takes a tentative step through. He looks back at TLOT as though to invite him through that mental door, if he'd like to join him.-

[NK] It's... Hm.... I don't understand why I would have blocked this out...

[TLOT] Gets the feeling strongly - I'll walk with you. They're just memories. - He follows Nk

-They're fuzzy to TLOT, but the longer he stays with NK, the clearer they seem. Memory NK is pacing back and forth in what looks to be a throne room. TLOT might remember it from a picture Prince showed of a younger Mix. So far it seems.. Bland, almost.-

[Tlot] Adds some power to Nk's recollections, trying to bring them into a sharper relief.

[NK] What are... you doing? -He doesn't seem to notice it get clearer, which implies perhaps he was seeing it fine, and TLOT, outsider to NK's mind, was seeing it differently.-

-Memory NK seems downright livid as he paces, glancing at the throne every turn with a scowl.-

[TLOT] Someone seems very agitated...

[NK] Yes... But I don't know why. I can't tell when this was... -He makes a sliding motion with one hand and the memory seems to jut forward, and Memory NK turns to leave.- Well if it wasn't later on..... -Memory NK walks straight through them both, and NK turns to watch him leave.- Maybe... before?....

[TLOT] Shrugs- It's your mind....

[NK] Or maybe... It was over a large amount of memories... Here, follow. I'm going to skim through... Something had to happen for me to block it out... I don't just go removing access willy nilly… -He starts walking and the memories pass by. There's even one of child Mix being carried over memory NK's shoulder. Still not awful...-

[TLOT] Is just sightseeing, trying not to disturb any infrastructure, he does smile at child Mix though.

-There's... more memories of Mix as a child, just simple things, really. And then the memories start getting.. Odd, structure wise. It's like looking at them through a kaleidoscope...-

[NK] We must be getting close...

[CN] After sending Winston towards Doc has heads inside and goes to his room. He opens the door and peaks in- Firebird?

-Firebird looks up at CN, Hands pausing in picking the blue feathers from his body -

[Firebird] Yes CN?

[CN] Notes the blood welling up where the feathers have been pulled and the feathers scattered about the room- What are you doing?

[Firebird] Removing the feathers, why? - He looks... Bare, with so few feathers. The crest on his head is almost absent, with only a handful of feathers remaining, and his tail is no better.. -

[CN] - You're hurting yourself...

[Firebird] It's fine, CN. Don't worry. What did you come up here for?

[CN] Everyone else is out... And it is my room!- He's trying to discretely type in chat for either Mix or Flowey to come over

[TLOT] This all looks pretty ordinary, I wonder why you blocked it out?

[NK] I... Don't know. But the unstable nature of these memories is... It's odd. Its like I sustained damage to my spell stone. But it's still whole in all these memories.... Maybe if we go straight to the end? - Soon the memories are going by faster than you can make anything clearer out. A flash of Prince, Kraz reclining on a Thorntails back and talking with Memory NK, and then there's nothing. - Oh, that's too far...

[TLOT] You seem to be pretty good at navigating. Are you sure there's something mising?

[NK] I mean... I don't know why else my memory would be messed up... -The memory isn't actually nothing, at a closer inspection it's him out in the void between games. Memory NK lays face down on the "ground"-

[TLOT] Did you just cut it out since you were basically in a sensory deprivation space? That might have saved your sanity being out there so long.

[NK] I... Maybe? But my spell stone is.. Hm. - He bends down to check- oh, it is broken now. Odd. How far....

[TLOT] Yes, I understand it was broken when you were found. Wasn't there some kind of explosion that lodged Prince's bits in other people too?

[NK] That's he thing. I don't know why Prince's were like that. I know I had one but.. Oh, that's already in my hand... -he's poking his own memory hand thoughtfully -

[TLOT] Decides to dig a little deeper and puts a hand on Nk's shoulder to help him remember- It's there... I think you just have to want to know badly enough... - He feeds some of his energy into his brother brine.

-There's a knock on Litch's door-

[Licht] Groans but goes to the door and opens it- Yes? May I help you?

[Postman] Package miss. Can you sign for this please? - Holds out the little machine and stylus.

[Licht] - Uh, sure- She takes the items and signs her name, but she doesn't remember ordering anything

[Postman] Gives her a rather heavy box and smiles politely before going back to her little truck.

[Licht] Brings the package inside and looks at who it's from-

[EAlex] Waits for Licth to come back in before creeping up. - What is it?

-It's addressed to her from 'Collin Street' -

[Licht] - A package I don't remember ordering from...- She puts the box down and grabs a small knife before slicing away the tape

[EAlex] Just watching curiously-

-Inside are two red tins with weird designs on the front.-

[Licht] - The hell?- She pulls out her phone to look up what she's gotten and she see's a message which she opens stating that she'll be getting a package- Well that's helpful...

[EAlex] Reads the phone- Oh, this should have been recieved days ago. Doc ordered cakes?

[Licht] - Oh right, they didn't know what a fruitcake was, that's right

[EAlex] Well it looks like one of them is for us. I guess because they couldn't sign for it themselves?

[Licht] - Because they don't have an address

[EAlex] Gives us another reason to visit I suppose. This tin is super heavy. - She levers it open- Oh! It's so colorful!

[Licht] - Yeah, fruitcake can be. But visiting them will have to wait, I have to be getting to work

[EAlex] Do you mind if I...?

[Licht] - Go ahead, I've had it before

[Firebird] -Picks another feather out-

[CN] Waits nervously, he wants to help, but he has no idea how to make potions, and he doesn't feel comfortable leaving Firebird to go grab some healing flowers-

-It starts to rain outside and there's a lot of pattering as someone rushes into the house and shuts the door-

[CN] Perks up a little and pokes his head out onto the bridge yo see into the main room- Hello?

[Chester] Is soaked and shivering. He's running his shirt through his inventory to dry it.

[CN] - Are you okay?

[Chester] Skitters up towards him a bit and comes onto the bridge- Just got wet. My spider part is fuzzy and it's hard to dry off.

[CN] - Then why not use the lava pool?

[Chester] I was going to. I was just closer to the front door. It's really quiet... where is everyone?

[CN] - Um... Notch has the baby, and I don't know where Lie and CP are...

-There's a crack of thunder outside-

[Chester] I hope they're okay.

[CN] Shrugs-

[Chester] Looks down and his eyes go a bit wide and frightened- There's... Cn... you didn't hurt them... did you?

[CN] - What do you mean?

[Chester] Is a teeny bit poofy- You have blood on your shoes...

[CN] Looks down- Oh, well, Firebird is hurt! But... I don't know how to make potions...

[Chester] Are you sure Lie doesn't have some?

[CN] - I don't know...

[Chester] She's got stuff to do it right? And lots of books?

[CN] - Well, yeah... It's all downstairs in the workroom

[Chester] Do you want to... Like go and see?

[CN] - I don't know... What if Firebird does something while I'm gone? And hurts himself worse?

[Chester] Okay. I'll go. You stay here. - He turns to go into the workroom. He creeps into the shadowed space and the lightning throws his half spider shape in frightening shadows on the wall. He doesn't notice the sleeping figure in the bed, and his teeny claws tap lightly on the stone floor.

[Stevie] Stirs a little-

[Firebird] -Just continuing to absent mindedly pick blue feathers out. Almost all of the back of his head is bare, and his tail is so short. So, so short.-

[Chester] Bumps into the bed accidently with one spindly leg-

[CN] Steps back into the room- Firebird?

[Stevie] Jerks awake- Nether!- He then falls off the bed

[Firebird] -Head turns to look at CN- Hmm?

[CN] - Umm... One of CP's mobs... He's gonna try to get a potion for you...

[Chester] Whoops, sorry! I didn't see you there!

[Stevie] - What are you doing?

[Firebird] Alright CN.

[Chester] Looking for some kind of healing potion or a book on how to make them?

[Stevie] - Why?

[CN] - Please stop Firebird...

[Chester] Because the bird NOTCH is hurt- Thumbs back toward's Cn's room.

[Firebird] But....

[Stevie] - Ugh, okay, hang on a minute. I'll see if there is anything- He gets up and starts digging through the chests near the brewing stand-

[CN] - Your hurting yourself...

[Chester] Taps around a bit nervously. - You're the master's little brother right?

[Stevie] - Er… Yeah, I am- He looks through a few bottles before pulling too healing potions out, ones a regular potion, and the other is a splash potion

[Chester] Was going to shake his hand but it's occupied with bottles now- Chester.

[Stevie] - Right, anyways here are the potions you wanted

[Firebird] But..

[CN] - Please? Can't you just wait for molt?

[Chester] Thank you! Oh, sorry to inturrupt your nap too- He takes the bottles and hurries back up to the bridge-

[CN] Hears Chester approaching- Ah! The potions!

[Chester] Hands them over and catches sight of Firebird- Sir! Do you need a calming draught too? I read someplace birds pluck themselves when they're in distress...

[CN] Looks between the two potions with uncertainty, not sure which to give Firebird-

[Firebird] I'm fine, the regular potion will do.

[CN] Hands it over-

[Chester] Should I... call for someone? You don't look well at all.

[Firebird] -Takes the potion and grimaces at the taste-

-More rain outside, it's really coming down hard, There'a a bit of clattering as two of the skeletal riders go by on their bony horses. -

[CN] Watches nervously-

[Stevie] Comes up- Everything okay?

[Chester] Gestures nervously to the mostly plucked birdman and mouths at Stevie- What do we do???

[Stevie] - I have no idea... Probably just leave him be for now so he can heal

-NK's memories flash by, scenes of NK and Prince working together to evacuate the seed, glitchy broken code everywhere, Panic. Darkness. And NK yelps. Their joined memory exploration is cut, and NK covers his face with a soft "Oh."-

[TLOT] Backs away as well. - I think you need a little time to think about this...

[Steve] Rushes over- Are you guys okay? That seemed a bit abrupt.

[Fru] wiggles away from Yaunfen and hops over a low part of the half-built wall-

[Yaunfen] Nuuuu! - Chasing after them-

[TLOT] Pats Nk supportively- you think on this-

[Steve] Is already running after the dragon and the dinosaur- I'll help!

-Not long after-

[TLOT] Opens the door for Steve and the pair of them enter the bar.

[Sam] Immediatly starts fixing them something warm to drink.

[Steve] Cold sniffle-

[Lie] She and CP are curled up in a booth. Lie has a warm glass of tea and they are warming up after having run in out of the rain- Oh, hey TLOT, hey Steve

[Steve] Takes some coffee from Sam and settles down as well. - Hello you two.

[TLOT] Sorry to inturrupt your non-Aether time.

[Lie] - Believe me, the rain did that already

[CP] - We just can't catch a break...

[TLOT] There's always the beds downstairs...?

[Steve] Parenting is just hard. -toasts her-

[Lie] - No, I'm mostly just cold now

[CP] - So what are you two doing way out here?

[TLOT] A well deserved drink after a harrowing afternoon helping Yaunfen with Fru.

[Lie] - Oh dear, what did Fru do now?

[TLOT] Just went for an unauthorized scamper across the landscape.

[Steve] We think they caught sight of some Lightfoots and wanted to chase and or play with them.

[Lie] - I see

[CP] Pulls Lie a bit closer to himself-

[TLOT] It's always something with wild pets though, isn't it?

[Lie] - Did you see the video I sent to Dawn of Blake?

[Steve] Yeah I did! That was so cute!

[Lie] - How he got in without knocking the crib over I'm not sure, but he keeps repeating the feat

[TLOT] It's love. Dawn said he was a clingy guy. And Aether will probably benefit from his protection later. You know how much trouble little ones can get into.

[Lie] - Especially since she's close to crawling. She's almost got herself pushed up

[CP] - Yeah, that'll be fun...

[TLOT] Smiles- You know you're excited.

[Steve] Has she said anything else?

[Lie] Laughs a little- I'm not sure, Farfar has her now

[TLOT] Ah, someone else who's settled into his role like a silverfish in a block. - sips his drink thoughtfully.

[Lie] - That he has

[CP] Begrudgingly- It has been useful having him next door...

[TLOT] He loves you guys.

[Steve] Pokes his mate- You should show her the thingie!

[TLOT] Not sure she has the energy right now to finish it my lamb.

[Lie] - What thing?

[Steve] He made a plant.

[TLOT] It's just a sculpture for now, I was going to let you do the honors. If you want.

[Lie] - Uh, sure

[TLOT] I redid that weird fruit you gave me. - He reaches into his inventory. - It was a real pain to get to the edible part. So I made it easier. - He takes out a very strange plant in a large pot. It's got a sunburst of green leaves at the base and a skinny stem like an orchid. From the top three branches hang heavy with pineapple fruit. Just the edible part, cut in spirals that hang down in yellow swirls like minature tornados.

[Steve] We're calling it a pineapple curl bush!

[Lie] - Okay then... I mean, the vanilla vines curl sooo, it's not that far fetched?

[TLOT] What does vanilla have to do with it?

[Lie] - It's part of the same family?

[TLOT] Crosses his eyes slightly- That's... really annoying....

[Lie] - Real life is weird, and they did mostly develop in different parts of the world...

[TLOT] Errrgh. - He sets the plant on the table. - either way, it could use a boost.

[Lie] - Alright alright- She puts her cup down, it's mostly empty now anyways and reaches for the bush, focusing her powers of the bright foliage

-The plant seems to sigh under her touch and suddenly plumps up with even more fruit and leaves. -

[Steve] Good job Lie!

[TLOT] Plucks off a curl and slurps it up like a noodle. - Perfection. It's still weird though.

[Lie] - I just thought you'd like it. It can also be used in a lot of alcoholic drinks

[Licht] Finally gets off work and gets back to her apartment- EAlex? Everything okay while I was gone?

[EAlex] Is flopped on the couch - That cake is so heavy.... I only had a tiny piece. But I cleaned the kitchen for you.

[Licht] - Yeah, you eat that cake in small amounts, and thank you for cleaning

[EAlex] You're welcome.

[Licht] - I don't have to go to work until late tomorrow, is there anything you want to do?

[EAlex] Well... I was thinking we could... go visiting... I could use the support. It's kind of a big deal for me to.. you know...

[Licht] - You mean the other server? Sure, we just have to make sure we're back in time for me to get to work

[EAlex] Gets up. - I'm ready when you are.

[Licht] - Just let me grab a few things- She heads for the kitchen and grabs a paper bag, putting some bell peppers inside and the fruitcake- Alright, we can go- She pulls out her phone and dials Doc

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the-art-of-slushies · 7 years ago

Photo

this my (baby ;v;)Kc

i made my first drawing of him 2 years ago and redrew him !

copy of his backstory:

my kc this art is 2 years old xD its a sans i made and yeah he has a little backstory he is a young skeleton i think as old as frisk maybe younger he is more determind then frisk! but some how in his Au frisk has save resets too but kc has this power too so he cant die well he can but he can refuse kc doesnt know this power yet he lives with the skelle brothers because when kc was just a baby somebody set him in front of the skellebrothes hous because they wher the only other skelletons now he is really hyper but can be lazy too he likes puns but sans says them a little too much he likes making puzzles with papyrus too and he knows just like sans if the human resets or kills kc has only 4 hp not 1 likes sans butt it is pretty low he is very nice and u ask him some thing he will do it he has 2 colored eyes one is yellow other is gray he can make them in different shapes both of his eyes glow when he is really sad and angry well that was it

#i #am #the #owner #of #kc #oc #undertale i guess #i hate tags xd

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theabominableblogger · 7 years ago

Text

My Reaction to “Gotham” S2E12

Non-chronological order reaction post? Yep. Probably should be working on the other ones instead? I’m gonna say yep.

I just wanna see how they do Mr. Freeze here. If they wreck him, then I might be a little mad. I’m still mad at Ed- I never liked Ed.

AN: I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post.

Oohhh, flashback!

Oooh, drumroll!

They use a drumroll for the background music all the time when it comes to the GCPD.

“[Jim] You then pursued Cobblepot and his men, correct?” “Yes, but I was unable to locate them.“ *jaw drops in shock* Oh my God...

*claps with each word* Jim, you are lying under oath!

“At which point, you [JIm] decided to flee the city before law enforcement could question you?” “Yes, for that, I have no excuse other than to say I was concerned for the safety of my fiancée [Lee].“ *gasps* SHE SAID YES!!

Yeah, this is basically just a recap of what happened in the winter finale.

“Were you [Jim] present at the time of his murder?” “No, I was not.” Oh my God!

“Do you [Jim] have any information regarding the case that you have not shared with us?” “No, I do not.“ OH MY GOD, JIM!

“Were you [Jim] involved in Theo Galavan's murder?“ OH MY GOD, JIM!

“No, I was not.” OH MY GOD, JIM! OH MY GOD, YOU LIED!

*on verge of losing voice* JIM!

Lee!

Jim, you ass!

“Then what's wrong [Jim]?” “Nothing. Long day.“ LIES! YOU LIED UNDER OATH!

THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING!

“I [Barnes] believe your [Havey Dent’s] investigation has found no evidence of criminal wrongdoing.” “Careful. You're starting to sound like a lawyer.“ Hoo hooo...

Oswald C. Cobblepot? What’s Oswald’s middle name? Chester?

AN: It’s Chesterfield.

There’s that [Jerome cult] graffiti again!

Oh my God... he [Oswald] looks so mangy... and gross

Oh my God, they put a screwdriver in Butch’s stump?!? That’s... kinda awesome.

I like Tabitha’s look in this scene. Like A+

“I [Butch] bet that was your [Tabitha] plan all along, huh? You're just that fond of me.” “Strangely enough, I [Tabitha] am kind of fond of you [Butch].“ This is gonna come back and bite us in the butt in the S4 finale AAAHHH

“We [Tabitha and Butch] have history.“ *grimaces*

*Tabitha kisses Butch* Ohhhh! Ohhhh!!

Selina, what are you doing?!?

*Victor freezes a cop* Whoaa!!

What?!? Wait wait wait, Mr. Freeze has his tech before he becomes Mr. Freeze?!? What is this?

Oh my God, this is just the opening. Hoooly crap.

Yep.

Oh they didn’t play the theme at all!

Ha, Jim just strolls in like “Ah yes, a regular day!” and everyone’s like “...Jim?!?”

“That's it? No hug? No kiss? No "welcome back"?” “You don't deserve these lips.“ Heeheeheehee!

Jim’s like “...OK... I can roll with this...”

*Ed dips a rose in liquid nitrogen* Oooh, yay! Flashback to eighth grade science class!

“Which means your suspect wasn't using liquid nitrogen. He was using supercooled liquid helium.“ What?

Liquid helium?

Ed... control thy anger!

“I [Ed] found Mr. Cobblepot wounded and dying in the woods. I nursed him back to health. He owed me his life, which is why I trusted him when he said he had changed his ways. It was an innocent mistake.“ ...Really?

*Barnes brings Oswald in in handcuffs* Whoa!

Take a shot every time they use the word “skell” in this show.

How did they catch him [Oswald]?

Freakin’... Oswald...

“You [Oswald] confess to murder?” “Yes, I do. Proud of it. I'm not a criminal, you know? I'm just insane.“ Hooo...

Aaahhhhhhh....

“Jim, I'm trusting you. Don't make a fool out of me [Barnes].“ HOOOAAHHHH...

Y’know, so far, for an episode called “Mr. Freeze,” we’ve only seen Mr. Freeze once.

Oh wait, there he is! Speak of the devil!

[Victor’s] Just gonna leave this dead, frozen corpse in the back of his truck! I mean...

Nora!

God, the actress who plays Nora [Kristen Hager] looks like a mix between Michelle Williams and Brie Larson

“I [Victor] need to find the correct ratio of liquid helium to glycerol cryoprotectant.” “Now tell me [Nora] what that means in English, honey.“ *chuckles*

“I [Victor] can bring your temperature down to 200 degrees below zero, and I can stop this disease from killing you [Nora].“ What’s the disease though?

What’s the disease though? Like what is this tragic disease that Nora always has? They never explain what she has! I think “Batman and Robin” was the only one that actually tries to put a name to it.

Like it’s not really that contagious because he [Victor] just kissed her [Nora] on the forehead! What is it?!?

“Good news. Nygma did some digging, found one company in all of Gotham that makes liquid helium: Wayne Enterprises.” Oh but of course!

OK, so he’s [Victor] working with cryogenics... is it similar to what whatever Hugo Strange is doing at Indian Hill? It’s gotta be, right?

Oh, that [Victor’s basement lab] doesn’t look shady at all!

Frickin’ Ed!

“[Oswald] You doing okay? You look kind of funky.“ Hahaheehee!

Vitrification? That’s a word?

AN: It’s the process of turning a substance into glass, like in ceramics. Which is also used for cyro-preservation

*Victor turns on the basement lights* Whoaaa!

Oh my gosh, he [the corpse] is actually blue!

I don’t think the body can survive below -100 degrees. There’s no way!

AN: You can survive extremely cold temperatures for a moment, especially if concentrated on a very small patch of skin. The larger the surface and longer the exposure, the less likely that you’ll survive.

Oh my gosh, can we get more of this? Jim, Lucius, and Harvey going out for lunch? Can we have more of this?

Can we have more of the Crime Trio here?

It’s Proto-Team Batman!

I wanna know what that restaurant is...

Meanwhile at Arkham Asylum...

Please don’t tell me that is who I think that is...

Nope, OK.

Oh no, why am I thinking that? Jerome’s deaadd!

For now.

I want Oswald to have like this dramatic speech and then just prat-fall off the table.

*The Arkham inmates start to riot* Well that clearly didn’t work, now did it?!?!?

“Solution A14. I [Victor] knew it would work! I knew it! Ha! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!“ But the guy’s dead! He’s totally dead!

Why did the body melt?!? Why did it melt? It should not have melted. Whaa...

*Nora starts hacking up blood* Uhhh... call 911?!? Should we call 911 maybe? Can we please call 911 for Nora? Please?

“If you [Nora] have another attack and you don't have this medication, you could die.“ Yeah, what does she have?

I actually do like that we get time to get to know their [Victor and Nora’s] relationship. I do like that because half the time they’re like “Oh yeah, she’s already in ice!”

We get to see his motivation but we never get to see her as a character and how she interacts with Victor.

Goddd, who the crap is this?

Oh my gosh, this dude at the counter at the pharmacy is a diiiiiiccckkk! Oh my God!

Oswald just looks miserable!

OH MY GOD, THAT IS HUGO STRANGE!

Why is he at Arkham?!?!?

Oh my God, B.D. Wong is such a perfect choice for Hugo.

“Chief of Psychiatry?” Oh my God, NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

*Victor freezes the pharmacist* Whoa...

*Jim and Harvey accidentally run over one of the frozen victims* OOHHHHHHHH!

Oswald, for some reason, reminds me of one of those really snooty popular girls.

AN: Think Megan Fox from “Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen”

Oswald’s like “I’m gonna pour myself some tea. Why not?”

Or scotch, whatever that is.

I really like the focusing shots on Hugo’s eyes. Makes a really nice shout-out to the comics.

“And don't worry; here at Arkham we have a number of intensive treatment programs.“ Uhhhh....

Yeah, I’m with you, Oswald. I would not trust Strange with an inch of my life!

So does Nora know that he’s [Victor] dragging dead, frozen bodies downstairs to experiment on?

“Victor? Honey?” God, she’s gonna go downstairs and see it! Noooo!!!

Noooo, she’s gonna see it! Nooooo!!!

No, I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I doooooonn’t like thiiiss! Not at all!

She is gonna see all of this!

“Frice?”

‘I’m really good with names,’ are you, Harvey?!?

*continues to contemplate the correct pronunciation of VIctor’s last name for the rest of the episode*

Where’s the freeze guuuunnnn?

Noooooo my God, is he [Victor] gonna target Jim and Harvey?

WHOA!

“See no evil, do no evil.” *jaw drops open in shock*

WWWWWHAAAAAAT?!?

“My husband did terrible things. But he did those terrible things for my sake. I'm dying. He wants to save me [Nora].” What are you dying of?!?

What are you dying of? Just tell them!

Whoa...

*Victor walks into the precinct* Ohhhhhh snap!

What?

Wait, why are there other people claiming Victor’s work as their own?

*gasps when the frozen body on the lab table is gone*

Ummm... exCUSE mee?!?

*gasps and covers mouth in shock when the victim is revealed to be thawed out and alive*

“I'm [Victor] coming for you, Nora. I'm coming to save you.“ She’s not gonna be there!

Strange, what the hell are you doing?

God, that’s so hard because I know two Dr. Stranges: one’s a good guy and ones a bad guy.

*yells in frustration*

Holy crap, I forgot Indian Hill’s under Arkham, isn’t it?

“Treatments will include immersive aversion therapy and radical psychotropics.“ Ummm, I didn’t know what half of that meant, but it isn’t good.

WAIT, PSYCHOTROPICS CHANGE BEHAVIOR! WHA-

“Our young lady arsonist refuses to cooperate with our experiments...” *gasps* Firefly!

Oh my God, noooo...

“Hello, Mr. Freeze.” *cue small high-pitched yell*

*jams out to ending theme*

#mr freeze #Gotham #FOX #the blogger reacts #looked at the stars and considered a reaction #jim gordon #oswald copplepot #tabitha galavan #edward nygma #butch gilzean #victor fries #nora fries #hugo strange #lee tompkins #harvey dent #nathaniel barnes #harvey bullock #bd wong #theo galavan

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