#starring: rosetintedgunman

[stageplayhero]

“Excuse me, you two are just as old as me!”

[crushng-a]

The Roller is alive. Upstairs, there are couples of all kinds making the most of a a day out before whatever else couples do on Valentine's. Two for the price of one would be an ideal chance that Gin would be a fool to miss out on. But they ARE a guest in the Roller. Besides... they're busy.

Namely, they are lounging on a couch with Wilford in the basement bowling alley. It wasn't due to open for a while yet, so the pair could sit and enjoy milkshakes while being forgotten about the world. Eventually Wilford propped his feet up other table and turned his head to Gin.

"Yer a good kid, an' I'm proud of ya - glittery black-hole-ness an' all. There is a happy endin' out there somewhere fer ya. But until then, I wanna remind ya that here can be where it is fer now. Oh, that reminds me." Rolling to put his weight on his right hip, Wilford began rummaging the back pockets of his trousers until he pulled out a small box. Inside was a silver necklace with a small model of a pair of roller skates dangling off them. It was hard to tell what colour they were, as the hue shifted depending on how the light bounced off them, but the white star mark held firm. "No matter what timeline yer in, no matter where ya end up goin', y'll always have this little bubble ta come back to." (rosetintedgunman)

IT’S LOVE DAY!

the best day of the year! best holiday of all time and space, with the most important annual traditions! (candy & sex! — duh.) oh, and kisses. and teddy bears! and making ridiculous scenes in upscale italian restaurants!

also, candy. so much candy. sweets and sours and sugars and caramels and cakes and cookies! mochis and gummies and boobies and chocolates and taffies and toffees and ice creams! and milkshakes. that’s an important one, because the best milkshakes in all the multiverse come from one of gin’s favorite stops.

AND THE ROLLER IS ALIVE!

(eye candy! eye candy everywhere!) that’s not the point. unfortunately. the point is to see wilford.

wilford the warfstache, who might well be a cupid himself, between the pink hair, the bear hugs, and the penchant for bringing the sweetness out of anyone. or maybe he’s the easter bunny. all those pastels. eh. jury’s out! it’s two timeless time-travelers reveling in time apart, together! and there’s few who gin would rather do it with than wilford. few he respects enough to even consider it. not just anyone has this much power and this much class!

and it’s love day! so he has a bright pink milkshake and as many candy hearts as the bartender could cram on top. he’s been making a game of seeing how many he can stick to his tongue at once, LOL and TXT ME and BABY and I♥️U, before they start falling off or he has to wet his palate.

sometimes wilford’s a sap. happy endings are still endings, after all, and gin’s not nearly done with writing his story! but aside from a disapproving sucking noise on his mouthful of chalky candy, he stays quiet. there’s a gift involved.

cool metal pools in gin’s palm, charm first, followed by a thin chain. the charm, a pair of skates, s h i m m e r s as he turns it back and forth. it’s like an opal, all multicolored and flashing fire. it’s hard to tell what it might be made of. rose gold? that’d be seasonal! or sterling silver, perhaps? (no, sterling’s the chain, not the ball!) (it’s not a ball, it’s a charm! doofus.) (heh. balls.)

gin smiles brightly. “i never doubted it.” he fastens the clasp in the back with a couple of tries, narrowly keeping his milkshake glass tucked between his thighs without incident. the skates rest at the base of his turtleneck, on perfect display between the flaps of his khaki lapels. he toys at the necklace with a finger, staring down at it as its many hues cast rainbows on the seat below.

“it’s, um. it’s funny, you know? everyone else … isn’t always there. they’re all temporary.” it’s more than just mortality that plagues him. the very fabric of existence warps and tears. people change. disappear. get misplaced. he’s too early, there’s no one to miss. or i’m too late. too late. too late. sometimes it’s as if you never existed at all.

(can you see me here, ? or am i out of your reach?)

gin shakes his head — shakes away the dread. “i’m just glad the roller’s easy to find, that’s all.” i’m glad to have you, wilford. i don’t know where i’d be without you.

i hope the necklace stays a while. i like it a lot.

[gunsblazin]

The Captain is a tricky one, alright. What to get the person with access to anything...? Why, more things, of course! A sparkly gift bag has been left in their locker filled with all sorts of knick-knacks. There's a small flashlight that projects a starry-like sky when aimed at a wall. There's a pair of fuzzy socks and a matching scarf! There's a tiny bomb that is absolutely a toy and totally not something that can be detonated in an emergency absolutely not. But at the very bottom, there's a little red box, almost like a jewellery box. When the lid is lifted, a glass orb that can easily fit in the palm of their hand is revealed. But not just that... When it's held up to the light, tiny snowflakes can be seen, as though carved intricately with laser. (rosetintedgunman)

This isn’t the first time that something has mysteriously appeared in the Captain’s locker. It doesn’t make this instance any less confusing. If some crew members had pitched in to get them a gift, they wouldn’t have broken into their locker to deliver it.

They can’t fully remember getting Christmas presents, other years. Only briefly sparing a glance to make sure no one’s watching them, they begin rooting through the bag.

The flashlight is tested immediately, and a small sound of surprise passes through their helmet when they see the stars. Craning their neck, they aim it at the ceiling, twirling it around.

It’s a challenge not to pull off their boots to replace them with the fuzzy socks, but they’re already making plans to do so later. They wrap the scarf around their neck, right before the bomb catches their attention and gains a smile.

Definitely just a toy. Absolutely. Nice!

That isn’t all, though. The Captain removes the box with more delicacy than the other items (even if the bomb surely could have used it), and tilts their head when they lift the lid. What could this be?

They pick up the glass orb, and roll it between their palms. It’s pretty, no doubt, they just can’t figure out what…

The tiny snowflakes suddenly make themselves known as they hold it up to the light, and their breath catches. It looks like it could have taken forever to make - by normal means.

Whoever you are, thank you.

[blackbirdmuses]

❤ Dating Sim Tropes ❤ REPOST AND FILL IN WITH DETAILS ABOUT YOUR MUSE AS IF THEY WERE A CHARACTER IN A DATING SIM.

NAME: The Poet (Aatos Lampo)

THEIR PROFESSION: He’s a rock star, although he does have some experience being a personal assistant!

FAVOURITE FOOD TYPE: He likes any type of soup. It reminds him of home and is his go-to cosy comfort food. However, he also has a sweet tooth and is that type to eat a whole box of fancy chocolates while watching romantic comedies. He also loves candy floss, lollipops and any form of boiled sweets.

FAVOURITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK: Red wine. Typically, the more expensive, the better. He also likes cocktails with his favourite being Daiquiri. 

FAVOURITE TRAIT: He loves people who are passionate. If someone has an interest they fiercely enjoy, he’ll happily sit and listen to whatever it is. He never judges, but he will take inspiration from a person’s devotion to a topic, hobby or thing. For instance, the Poet is fiercely passionate about music and if someone shares that enthusiasm, he’ll sit for hours and talk with them about it.

WHERE THEY WOULD GO ON A DATE: A carnival or a circus. These are the Poet’s two favourite places in the universe and he’d want to impress his date by winning them the biggest stuffed animal prize on hook-a-duck or the knock-down sideshow games. It would also be a fun way for him to get to know them: are they a thrill seeker, an atmosphere chaser, do they cover their eyes when the trapeze artist is on the tightrope, are they scared of clowns, do they love carnival food or not?

IDEAL GIFT: Clothing - a nice scarf, a pair of earrings, a necklace or a ring will suit him just fine. He has an expansive wardrobe of many beautiful, colourful and varied outfits, but he wears them all in rotation with a different accessory each time and he’s always looking to add to his collection. Although, in truth, the Poet will treasure absolutely anything he’s given. He keeps letters, drawings and gifts from all of his fans in his room and has the stories for each memorised by heart.

WHEN WILL THEY DRINK ALCOHOL: At parties, with a meal or when he’s struggling. He seldom gets drunk these days, but has been known to drink red wine straight from the bottle with friends during parties or when the mood has called for it.

TAGGED BY: @rosetintedgunman​ (Thank you! <3)

TAGGING: *throws a dart onto the dash* You!

[oliver-ashcroft-documents]

In one way, the wrapped parcel left for the Captain could be seen as amusing based on the theme it was presenting. The most obvious thing was a pair of sound-cancelling earphones. These were paired with an excellent desk topper that simply read "BUSY. COME BACK NEVER" and various iterations of "DO NO DISTURB" signs. But to the side of this, Oliver would discover a small plant - a poinsettia with red leaves already on full display for the world to see. With the little glass dome it was encased it, there would be no denying that it would thrive in space. (rosetintedgunman)

@rosetintedgunman // the persistent captain

The captain carefully turned his helmet until it released with a hiss. He sat the cracked helm on the other side of his desk, slowing as he saw the colorful parcel sitting in the middle of his writing space. Captain Oliver smiled tiredly at it, a little confused but happy nevertheless.

"Let's see what's in this puppy..." Oliver murmured, the voice transmitter softly crackling around his words. The man sat down and started opening the present. The signs made him laugh, placing them next to his helmet to hang later. The earphones were nice... they would definitely make working on electronic paperwork more tolerable. Though, the poinsettia was the nicest part of the gift.

The lovely flower plant gently shuffled as he checked out the flower, smiling softly at the thought behind it. The captain nearly forgot Christmas was upon them, and the colonists on the planet below were getting ready to celebrate their first Christmas on their new home. Mark was probably itching to ship out tonight with the Captain and the other crew heads... Oliver was both excited and worried. He didn't have any family to spend it with... besides his 'ride-or-die' engineer...

Shaking the thoughts from his head for now, the Captain gently sat the poinsettia next to the desk placard before getting up to stare out his window. The stars twinkled invitingly at him, with the distant sun of this galaxy lighting up the planet on the opposite side of the colony site. It was more than he could've hoped for, after everything.

"Merry Christmas, whoever you are... I really appreciate the gifts."

[briingmayflowers]

#SQUAD GOALS

@tardisinhumanflesh / @videonastycore / @rosetintedgunman

[the-actor-himself]

The bar is quiet. There are a group of people on the stage, paying Mark no heed as they set up their music equipment for a performance. Strangely, too, that there's no sight of a barman for a few moments. When he does appear, he looks troubled. His assistant did look stressed at the thought of a visitor, and that was only emphasised by the actor sitting at the bar.

Wait.

Wilford spins on the ball of his foot with such a speed that he does a full two rotations before finally stopping in front of Mark with wide eyes. "Yer here! Ya... Ya actually came." There is disbelief in his voice, but a positive tone. "C'mon, lemme get ya somethin' while ya tell me how y've been. Hey, blue suits ya, by th' way." (rosetintedgunman)

Mark rests his chin upon his fist as he waits for Wilford to notice him.

He doesn’t acknowledge the crackle of another’s ever-ravenous presence just a few walls away. He doesn’t intend to start any fights in his brother’s bar. “ I couldn’t stay away forever. ”

He drops his arm so both are folded on the bar top. “ I’d ask for something bracingly hard but it almost feels too on the nose. ” His mouth curves despite the reservations about this visit that linger at the base of his throat. “ You seem like you’ve got what we’d need for a root beer float. Maybe add a few splashes of something extra on top for me. ”

He glances down at himself. “ …I suppose it does. ” Someone had finally convinced him to cease parading around in his funeral shroud. From old death, now new life.

“ Things have certainly been. ” Better to start with the positives. “ Star’s birthday is soon. You’ll get an invite when we do something for it. ”

He fidgets with a ring on his right hand, twisting it idly on his finger. “ The Manor has been itself. Ah. Higher traffic these days than ever. ” He wasn’t sure how he felt about discussing love interests with Wilford. Their relationship was still progressing with mincing steps.

[frxgments-of-frxgments]

"Heeeyyyy, I gotta truuuuuth." Wilford slumped across the counter with a cocky smirk. He waited just a moment to let DA assume the worse before finally sharing his question. "How would ya go 'bout world domination?" (rosetintedgunman)

The DA's entire life flashes before their eyes; each and every one of them. Oh, god. Is this going to be about Dante again? Or that time they got interviewed by him only to be shot? Or the glasses they broke last time they suddenly stopped being solid for a few minutes? Or-- Oh. Well. That's anti climatic. They thwack his shoulder for scaring them, though it's ruined by the staticky giggle they cant quite smother. Hm. How would they? They're not certain they can even do that in what passes for their world... I'm not sure. I suppose I'd rewrite everything here. Make it a happier story. A feel good slice of life, or something. You'd be one of the stars, of course.

[jumpinagain-a]

@rosetintedgunman liked for a starter from GIN! ♥️

“THIS IS STUPID,” THE ENGINEER COMPLAINS. they’ve got a wormhole on either side of them, a tiny closed loop that wilford summoned at will, pink and glowing. It’s a demonstration. wilford’s walked from one to the other so many times now it’s making them dizzy. “if i could make wormholes, i feel like i would have done that before now. i’m telling you, i didn’t need a wormhole to leave the story. i just left.”

they’re not used to this weird, bodiless form quite yet. they’re a man-shaped blob of cosmic energy, dark matter and stars for eyes. touching things makes them disappear half the time and they’re not sure where they go, or how to stop doing that. it’s a little annoying. wilford seems more or less immune, FOR NOW AT LEAST.

gin can’t make wormholes. they’re almost certain of it. but wilford’s right — they’re different now. harnessing that is going to take practice. hopefully not patience, because they don’t have a lot of that anymore. waiting around in an endless loop for the end to come does that to a guy.

[stageplayhero]

Wilford casually lifts Rift up and clips him onto a clothesline so he can air dry in peace. (rosetintedgunman)

It’s… a peculiar situation, but it isn’t as if Rift isn’t used to peculiar situations. He has his arms crossed and a pout on his face, hanging from the clothesline by the shoulders of his uniform. The image of a wet cat isn’t far off from the truth.

How his clothing doesn’t simply rip is a mystery. Movie magic?

“I hope this doesn’t take long,” he says, looking down at the tips of his boots, which are also dripping water. “It’s cold.”

Not nearly as bad as being in a malfunctioning cryo, though! Nor as bad as falling into the centre of a star, being abducted by aliens, getting run over by a boulder… he could go on for a while.

He’ll be dried off and ready to continue the story in no time!

[splitsuit-moved]

@rosetintedgunman​ asked ;

The coast is clear, which means it's time for Wilford! He pats a badge onto Dark's chest, one that is neither stuck nor pinned on and could be easily removed if he wanted to. The badge was white with a black "10" written in bold on it. Little blue stars decorated the background. "Happy birthday! I gotcha somethin' special!" The envelope had a little bump inside it, which was revealed to be a voucher. "This voucher entitles the holder to CAUSE TROUBLE" was written in Wilford's handwriting... and a kazoo was taped onto the back of it. Be free.

Happy Birthday

A total of TEN YEARS , has it already been that long ? Dark had made quite the record for himself over all these years . They had their ups and their downs but they were his , and no one else’s .

Peeling the badge off his chest to find it was more like a sticker than anything else and stuck it with the envelope . So now he could never lose this gift . Strange to say he was a sentimental kind of configuration of being , with the hat he kept from the last birthday as well . He will place this with that the next chance he got .

❝ Thank you , Wil . How kind of you , though you should know by now I cause trouble even without the need of a slip for it , but I do not detest the thought . ❞

His hands looking over the kazoo , what was a kazoo ? He had no idea , but perhaps that will be something he will try when he is alone .

❝ Perhaps , if neither you or I are busy right now , we can go ahead and use this voucher , as long as I get to keep it as well . Like a document of this day . ❞

[crushng-a]

"Listen. I need ya ta trust me here. I finished an area of th' Roller, an' I want ya ta see it before I forget. I know it's not gonna be th' same as th' fun ya like ta cause in other places... But maybe it'll give ya some ideas fer th' future. After all, th' look of this place was inspired by you, since I don't think there's anyone who'd encompass it better." At last, Wilford led Gin into the main area of the roller rink and gestured to the right toward the newly opened arcade. Even from a distance, one could see the hint of a starry pattern on the walls. (rosetintedgunman)

gin always trusts wilford. why wouldn’t they trust him? that just smacks of something suspicious!

they pop a sucker out of their mouth — just something to take the edge off since it’s kind of discouraged to go shopping for snacks around here. ideas for the future sound promising. “inspired by me?” he could be considered inspiring, but for the roller?

but when gin steps into the room, he gets it. gorgeous glowing neon space texture paints the ceiling, dotted with a million stars. several arcade cabinets are arranged in two aisles, making the most of the somewhat narrow space. a huge grin stretches from ear to ear — he’s already beelining for a cabinet labeled SPACE INVADERS.

“i’m about to cover your entire high scores page,” they say. were tokens needed? apparently not for gin, anyway, whose quick fingers have skipped past the main menu without trouble, filling the room with cheerful noise. they’ve already got plans to dig into the wiring underneath, but maybe they ought to wait until wilford’s out of view for that one!

(man, when was the last time he’d been in a real arcade?)

[dreamingofmuses]

(Not okay to reblog)

Hello there! Welcome to dreamingofmuses, a humble hub-blog penned by an Irish fish called Ash. While these are neither the most active nor the fastest batch of roleplay blogs out there, the goal is to try and bring good times to the dash. If any of the icons catch your interest, feel free to click the links below to learn more about them.

ALL BLOGS ARE CURRENTLY LOW ACTIVITY DUE TO IRL CHANGES FROM APRIL UNTIL END OF MAY AT THE EARLIEST.

@theauthorlives​ - HIGH ACTIVITY - A small multifandom, multimuse blog. Currently focuses on Yancy from Heist with Markiplier, Gunther from In Space With Markiplier and Roman and Remus from Sanders Sides.

Muse List - this will allow you to view all the ‘abouts’ for each muse

Rules

authorlivesinfo - Tag for app users

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@skullandbowties​ -  LOW ACTIVITY - Jack Skellington. Formerly of @skeletonwithabowtie​​

About

Rules

bowtieinfo - Tag for app users

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@blueheartedmayor​ -  HIGH ACTIVITY - Mayor Damien from Who Killed Markiplier, set in modern day where the events don’t transpire; and a canon divergent Darkiplier who calls himself Dante (where the events of the previously mentioned series did happen).

About Damien

About Dante

Rules

blueheartedinfo - Tag for app users

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@rosetintedgunman​ -  HIGH ACTIVITY - Wilford Warfstache and Colonel William J. Barnum from Who Killed Markiplier and other Markiplier productions.

About W.ilford

About William

Rules

rosetintedinfo - Tag for app users

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@skullandbowties​ -  LOW ACTIVITY - Jack Skellington. Formerly of @skeletonwithabowtie

About

Rules

bowtieinfo - Tag for app users

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@luckywildrover​ - ON HIATUS WHILE I FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO WITH HIM - Jamie Murphy, an OC. The owner of a successful social media platform, though he is somehow never recognised. His cousin, the rightful owner, has vanished from existence due to unknown magical interference, and it’s up to Jamie to figure out how to bring him back.

About / Headcanons / Rules / roverinfo - Tag for app users

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@actuallyastar​ - ON HIATUS - Sirius, an OC. A young star was embedded with a black diamond that granted it sentience. After travelling the galaxies, they’ve settled to exploring the planet earth in the form of a human child. They have a lot to learn about their new home.

About / Headcanons / Rules / vagabondinfo - Tag for app users

[snake-eyes-11]

Heeeeeeyyyyy Ammmyyy~ Lookin' cute as alwaaaays~

Did ya know that th' word 'spellbinding' is used 'cause there are witches like you that are so pretty an' wonderful. It's true! If ya meet a pretty witch, a guy like me's gotta count his lucky stars.

An' an' they're enchantin' too! So many magical words mean positive things when talkin' 'bout th' best witch around! Just be sure not ta burn yerself out between all yer duties an' responsibilities! Yer still fragile!!

Love ya!!

Wilf~

ooc; DFGHJKL; WILF, MY BELOVED ;A; Thank you, you sweet moustached cutiepie! ;w; In this house we love and support the Santa Clause!!

And! And! Make sure that you tell your fantastic Mun just how magical she is, too!! She's the best karp and she deserves to know just how loved and cherished she is! <3

@rosetintedgunman

[bheithann]

1. Name: Spencer 2. Star Sign: Leo 3. Height: 5′4 4. Put your iTunes or Spotify on shuffle. What are the first 5 songs that come up?

First Person Shooter - Celldweller

Nobody’s Listening - Linkin Park

Numb -  Linkin Park

Second Chance - Shinedown

The  Sentinal - Celldweller

5. Ever had a poem or song written about you? Outside of friends? No. 6. When was the last time you played guitar? Never. I was a piano type girl. 7. Who is your celebrity crush? Dylan O’Brien and Tyler Posey. (Obviously Jacksepticeye and Markiplier, but that’s a given.) 8. What’s a sound you hate and a sound you love? Nails on a chalkboard. I hate that sound. As for what I love, the sound of typing. 9. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes. 10. How about aliens? There’s no way humans are the only living species in the universe. 11. Do you drive? No. 12. What was the last book you read Some fantasy I gave up on because the writing was horrible. 13. Do you like the smell of gasoline? Not particularly. But I’m used to it. 14. What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? I broke my wrist/thumb a few years back. Probably not a huge deal, but it was the first time I’ve broken a bone, and I’ve learned since not to roughhouse with my boyfriend. 15. Do you have an obsession right now? This fandom. Totally. I love my ego boys. 16. Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Yes. I have trouble letting things go even though I know I need to be better about that.  17. In a relationship? Yep! 

Tagged by: @talariis Tagging:  @bitterdeadguy @s0ulsl0st @mcrkfischbach @gltchyvirus @kjcllberg @septiceys @peripeteiahubris @prlman @rosetintedgunman @wrcngchcice and anyone else who wants to!

[the-actor-himself]

While Mark was out tending to the teething baby, someone had been in Sirius' room. Nothing was taken, but instead, something was left. A teddy bear, one that was pale pink and wore a little space outfit. The gloves and boots were made of a chewable material, while a shiny piece of silver on the chest made a scrunchy noise. No note was left, only whispered well-wishes that things would go well for the man who had wanted a family for so long before the figure disappeared through a closet door. (rosetintedgunman)

Mark returns after twenty minutes with two more teething options and a starchild that was vigorously cramming a sticky ring of frozen peaches into his mouth and gunming on it insistently. He bends to pop the other options into the freezer section of the mini fridge in the corner, then turns to go to the rocking chair and pauses. A stuffed toy he doesn’t recognize - he lifts it, and the crinkle of its suit has his little star reaching out his empty fist, grasping insistently at it.

Mark relents, and lets him hold it, sinking down into the rocking chair.

“ You’d have liked having an uncle, ” he says softly, “ A proper one. You just came century too late for it. ” His chest wrings uncomfortably. He knew who had to have left this, and it wasn’t the same man he’d once grown up alongside. One from another time. Another place.

They’d cross paths again eventually, he was sure. Wilford couldn’t stay away forever.