DONâT WORRY SIR, I CAN TAKE âEM !
   head-based b.arn.ey c.alho.un from h.alf l.ife. crossover friendly with non-half life verses. written by loo.
do me a solid and reblog ? thank you !
NASA
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DEAR READER
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YOU ARE THE REASON

Product Placement
Peter Solarz

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@dividedskies
     DONâT WORRY SIR, I CAN TAKE âEM !
   head-based b.arn.ey c.alho.un from h.alf l.ife. crossover friendly with non-half life verses. written by loo.
do me a solid and reblog ? thank you !

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@endingthesimulationâ
{ ⊠}
"Wh--Joshua, kiddo, you were supposed to start cleaning up your toys...â
It was getting rather late in the evening, now, which meant that it was time to clean things up and get ready for bedtime before Dr. Freeman got home. Well, it seemed that Joshua had gotten distracted with something while putting his coloring supplies away, and now he was sprawled out on the floor with a good amount of his toys again.
Laine sighs and sits on her legs beside him, trying to keep her burning eyes focused. âCâmon, kiddo, you know the rules. Itâs time to get ready for bed, yeah? So that means you gotta put your toys away. Besides, your dadâs gonna be home any--â
Click.
â--minute.â Fuck. Laine gives a sheepish, tired laugh and a wave to the figure in the doorway. âH-hi, Dr. Freeman...â
{ â }
Send "đ" to find my muse, injured and alone after being beaten up
endingthesimulationâ:
âI donât think itâs called a-â
Before Gordon can finish his sentence, Bubby is chucking the bowling ball as if it were a baseball down the lane. He instinctively flinches and looks away- Yeah no heâs not looking at whatever destruction that causes.
To his surprise, though, thereâs no screams of terror that follow this action, or breaking or glass or- anything other than the sound of the pins being knocked down. And, well, the resounding crash at the end of the lane- But thatâs fine. Probably.
He blinks.
âThatâs-â
âBubby thatâs not how youâre supposed to throw it.â
{ ⊠}
âI knocked down the pins, didnât I? Isnât that the point?â There are, in fact, multiple pins knocked over, with on the 6, 7, and 10 pins still standing. (Wasnât there a name for just the 7 and 10 pins being up by themselves? He couldnât remember.)
A huff, and Bubby crosses his arms.
âWell if you know so much about bowling, then you do it!â Bubby plucks a bowling ball from the rack and offers it to Gordon, a silent follow-up to the verbal challenge to show that Bubby isnât bluffing.
{ â }
{ ⊠}
A melody of whistling, backed by the quick beat of a hammer. A very simple repair job; just a hole in the roof that needed to be covered. How a hole in their roof even got that bad is beyond her, but at least it would keep her occupied for an hour or so.
Down she goes to grab a few extra nails--she underestimated how many she would need, so thereâs an extra trip--and back up the old, rickety ladder, dulled and greened by age and exposure. It creaks and bends beneath her weight; they really needed to replace this soon. Any more use and the think would shatter.
Laine crawls back onto the roof, and her foot catches on one of the rungs. One wrong movement--and the ladder falls sideways, down, down, until it hits the driveway and breaks on impact.
â... Are you FUCKING kidding me--â
{ â }

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endingthesimulationâ:
âRight, uh- Sorry. Kinda justâŚAssumed cause, yâknow, Black Mesa doesnât seem like the kind of facility to have a whole ass bowling team or whatever. So. Yeah.â
âŚCome to think of it, actually, that wouldnât surprise him at all.
âBut! Itâs super simple!â He says, picking up one of the bowling balls and handing it to Bubby.
âRoll the ball, knock down the pins at the end of theâŚaisle? Do they call it aisles? The slick floor thingy that weâre not allowed to walk on. Just do that and youâre golden!â
{ ⊠}
âI think itâs called a âroadâ, Gordon.â
Bubby takes the bowling ball from Gordon, only to have to scramble not to drop it--it was heavier than expected.
âThe fuck do they make these things out of?â He examines it a moment through squinted eyes--sleek, heavy, hollow but thick outer layer--before turning his attention to the holes. Index, middle, thumb--no, that didnât feel right. Not as much control. Index, ring, thumb. Yes, that felt more comfortable in his hands.
âAlright, letâs give this a go, then...â
Bubby steps forward...
... and pitches the bowling ball like a baseball down the lane. The good news is that he does knock down a majority of the pins! The bad news is that thereâs a resounding crash somewhere at the end of the lane. Itâs fine, probably,
âHowâs that?â
{ â }
@dividedskies @docsoda @nopassport @wyrdingâ :grabs u: âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ. :holds u:Â
[STRUMS GUITAR]
I LOVE U BITCH
[STRUMS GUITAR AGAIN]
I AINâT NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING U
BITCH
MIRROR TO THE STARS THAT DRIFT OUT
                         SOMEWHERE IN THE NIGHT.
(featuring muses from: TWEWY, Pokemon, HLVRAI, Hollow Knight, Bayonetta, & more.)
đ joshua freeman!
government assigned muses | accepting
WOULD I: YES / MAYBE???? / NO???
HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO
ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):
{ ⊠}
âDaddy, Daddy! Watch what I can do!â
Joshua Freeman hoists himself up, up, up onto the back of the bed. Heâs still a bit dizzy from earlier endeavors--practice makes perfect!--but his entire body is buzzing with energy. Like bees! Bees were good, right? They were pretty and fuzzy! Heâs not fuzzy, though. Is he pretty? Heâs not sure! Heâs not yellow and black like bees are, though, so maybe heâs not.
... What was he doing?
âWhatâs up Jo--â Oh, right! He wanted to show his daddy something! His dad stood in the doorway, with that funny look he sometimes got whenever Joshua was about to do something cool. âJosh--Joshie, why are you standing on the headboard?â
âWatch, watch!â Joshua pumps his arms, and then jumps up and flips backwards in the air!
âJOSHUA--â
The bed creaks when he lands on it, back first, and he giggles excitedly, even when his daddy scoops him up in his arms.
âJosh - Josh, are you okay?!â
Joshua laughs, flapping his hands. âI did it, I did it!â
His dad let out a shaky breath. âY-yeah, you sure did, kiddo... But donât do that again, okay? Thatâs really dangerous, you could get hurt.â
Joshua makes a âpbbbbbltâ sound with his mouth, pouting in reluctant defeat. âOkaaaay.â
âPromise?â
âPromise.â
{ â }
SEND ME đ + A CHARACTER NAME OF A CHARACTER YOU THINK I SHOULD WRITE !Â
IâLL REPLY WITHÂ
WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO
HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NOÂ
ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):

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starter for @dividedskiesââs Bubby!
This was probably a good idea! Probably! He sure hoped so!
Itâs beenâŚwhat, a month since theyâve gotten out of Black Mesa? Itâs about time he just- stops lazing around the house with Joshua and go out and do something! He hadnât really gotten the chance to talk to Bubby that much after the incident either, soâŚHey! Perfect opportunities!
And now here they stand together, two survivors of an incident-that-shall-not-be-named-
In the middle of a bowling alley.
âSo!â Gordon turns to Bubby with a clap of his hands, âYou know how this works! Sorry we uhâŚCouldnât get the whole team in on this. Everyone was kindaâŚbusy.â
A pause.
ââŚWait, you do know what bowling is, right?â
{ ⊠}
After the incident in Black Mesa, Bubby had finally, finally gotten what he always wanted: freedom. No tight schedules. No strict regimes. No artificial boundaries inside the same facility heâs been stuck in his whole life.
Turns out after the first week, freedom was really boring.
He was rather surprised when Gordon had invited him to go bowling, of all things. Bubby was surprised that Gordon still wanted to be around him at all.
He scoffs as he finishes tying the laces of the (stiff, uncomfortable) bowling shoes. âOf course I know what bowling is, Gordon, Iâm not an idiot!â Pause. â... Iâve just never done it.â
{ â }
{ Hey there! Iâm Toony and I have little to no impulse control. Anyway I have another HLVRAI rp blog now LMAO
Like or reblog this post if youâre an RP BLOG whoâs interested in interacting with Gordon from HLVRAI!Â
About + Rules | I follow from @toonblyâ since this is a sideblog! }
playcoinstmâ:
  âIâm perfectly alright, G -â Coomer cuts off the last word coming out of his mouth and seems a little bothered by it, which only serves to make what heâs saying seem less convincing. He smiles, although only for a few seconds, an uneasy look about him in general.
âJust a tad lost! Could you remind me where I am, please?â
{ ⊠}
Well! Clearly this man is... not alright. Did something happen to him? None of it was Dedeâs business as to why, of course, but perhaps he just needed a bit of help?
âWe are by the library, sir. Is... there anywhere you need to be? I know the area very well, I could help you get there!
{ â }
         â iâm very confused. letâs just go. i wanna watch tv. â
othertypcsâ:
Barney slowly nods, hand shooting up to tap his mouth guard in a contemplative gesture. His eyes remain on her, similar to a chickenâs head never moving with itâs body. The mouth guard whirls, humming like a fluorescent light. Internally, Barneyâs interface marks every subtle movement Deana makes, saving it to his mind and backing it to a cloud. â Noted. â He says after a beat, deeming her statement truthful. His hand lowers, fingers lace.
His cyan rings expand then deflate like a shutter camera.
â Am I correct in assuming there is a limit? For example, you couldnât summon a spirit from the Americas, or even a mile or two away ? â The mouth guard whirls again, readying the visual lie detector.
{ ⊠}
She canât help as her eyes flicker to that odd mouthpiece, the shiny collar of the Combineâs guard dog. Speak no evil, speak no peace, speak nothing but the Combine dogma drilled into his brain. It was the story of every human turned Combine. But this was Barney Calhoun, was it not? Deana had heard whispers from the Resistance. Word travels fast. And the fall of Calhoun had marked a very, very dark moment for them.
âYes and no. I can summon any spirit from anywhere, hypothetically. The further they are from me, however, and the more powerful they are, the more difficult it will be to summon them. It may be outright impossible to summon a particular spirit due to their strength and distance. I myself have only been strong enough to summon a spirit from a neighboring country, and even then, not for very long. These factors will also play into the physical and mental toll it will take on me. As a point of reference, the strongest spirit I ever summoned left me unconscious for three days.â
{ â }

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@dividedskiesâ liked !
Thud, thud, thud. The dim lighting beneath the door is obscured by those heavy boots. Several whirling locks detach and the door retreats into the wall. Standing there is a pale, short man with stylized hair. He locks eyesâband of cyan with brownâwith Deana. He strolls inside, arms folded behind his back, and the door slides shut again.
A beat silence after the locks click in place. He sits in the chair opposite to her, arms unfolding only to resume their position on the steel table. â Deana Morrison. You are a medium. â Itâs a fact, not a question. â Is there any knowledge about your skills or self you wish to tell before the briefing ? â
{ ⊠}
The years had not been very kind to Deana. They had taught her distrust, alertness. And they had also taught her to not move a damn muscle. She only blinks slowly in response to the Combine Elite locking eyes with her, almost disinterested. Back straight, chin high, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap.
âThat is correct.â Lips quirk up, a practiced, polite smile. âA pleasure to meet you. There are just two things you should know. When channeling a spirit, they feel whatever sensations I feel in my physical body. I feel pain, they feel pain. However, the pain only stays with me once the spirit is gone. Itâs my body thatâs been hurt, after all.â
Deep brown eyes, almost black, stay locked with those unnatural cyan. âSecond. I cannot control what the spirits say or do. I can only provide a vessel that they may communicate through once more. I canât force them to do or say anything. The only thing I may do once they are in my body is force them out of my body. That is all I wish to say.â
Oh there is more, much more, that she would like to say to the Combine, but any and all of them would result in her death.
{ â }
@dividedskies (Hollow Knight)
Alone in his office. Finally. Managed to get those guards out of the place for the moment- sure, they were still close, but not close enough to hear him talk to himself about things. Because, as things were turning out, to him, it felt like he was the only person left he could talk to who wasnât lost to the insanity of it all. Aside fromâŚthe members of the Resistance, but he didnât have any of those people around.
Breen walked up to one of the Citadelâs windows that overlooked City 17, andâŚalmost daily, he would almost break down just looking at the place. This wasnât anywhere anyone really wanted to be- and it was his fault things were the way they were now. But before he could get too lost in his daily thoughts, something felt a bit off.
Out of the corner of his eye, was thatâŚsome bug or something on his desk? He turned to look at it, carefully approaching it. Most of the weird bugs he would have taken care of by his guards, but since they werenât in hereâŚwell. Talking to himself was bad enough, would talking to a bug be any worse?
He sat at his desk, sighing quietly. âBefore IâŚstart talking about everything wrong with the world, which, well, is everything, I guess Iâll give you a chance to leave while you still can. I wouldnât blame ya if you didnât want to listen to some huge idiot go on and on and on about things you may not really care about.â He put a hand on his desk, palm facing up. âYou probably donât even know what Iâm saying, so I guess in the end it doesnât even matter, butâŚâ He shrugged one shoulder.
{ ⊠}
There were advantages to being small--like being able to stay out of the line of sight of these bizarre, metallic bugs.
This city had an air of something wrong to it. Wrong like the Infection was. Like there was something creeping deep into the minds of its citizens and rotting them way from the inside out. But the metallic bugs had control over the Wyrms--very much a first for the Knight.
The tallest building in the city had grabbed their attention, of course, and they found themselves climbing it to get to its peak. Perhaps they just wanted to get a better view of this city; perhaps it was just their ingrained desire to explore.
Whatever it was, it took them to this office, where they hopped up onto the desk and began to look around. Papers, papers, lots of papers that they couldnât quite understand... what was a âCombineâ?
The door opens, and they freeze, tiny hand instinctually going to their nail. But the Wyrm, with silver hair and an old face, isnât frightened of them. In fact, it seems that the tired old Wyrm just wanted to talk. Maybe the Knight could glean a bit more information about this city from him.
They sit neatly on the Wyrmâs desk, a silent invitation to continue.
{ â }