gunchuckin replied to your post: (It feels so strange, visiting this blog. ತAತ)
Scream!
o v o! -heavy breathing-

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@forchucksake
gunchuckin replied to your post: (It feels so strange, visiting this blog. ತAತ)
Scream!
o v o! -heavy breathing-

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(It feels so strange, visiting this blog. ತAತ)
OKay peeps. I know I've been crazy inactive and I hate to say it but I'm taking another hiatus. I just haven't had time to properly maintain this account. I've been busy beyond belief. I'm not leaving indefinitely but I am going to be scarce for a while. I'm tired of fretting over being active when I have a million other things on my mind. I'll still talk to you peeps on Skype when I'm on. And I'm not, I repeat, not leaving indefinitely. I still have posts to reply to but I hope you all understand. Love you guys.))
i streamed for hours and only finished two things hahaha
i won’t disappear in this city. ; for Motorcity’s Burners.
listen here or click the image.
cover credit here.
1. In This City - Iglu & Hartly. 2. Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana, Mujuice, Tori Amos. 3. 8 - The Pack. A.D. 4. Ready Steady Go - SHE. 5. Fight Song - The Republic Tigers. 6. Kids With Guns - The Gorillaz. 7. A Real Hero (ft. Electric Youth) - College. 8. Paris Is Burning - St. Vincent. 9. Soul - The Lion And The Sail. 10. God From The Machine - Santigold.

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Unwanted House Guest
With each labored breath, his lungs burn, a caustic fire that tears through his chest like open flames through dry grass. He hasn’t stopped running, not since he watched Texas slip back into hysteria, not since he lost Mike during their escape. The empty look in the Burners eyes, the sound of his gnashing teeth, the very lack of humanity was a mortifying experience. It was the fear of knowing that his friend was out there, wandering Motorcity, a violent threat with a delusional taste for flesh, that kept him moving. Sweat sticks to the back of his neck like syrupy glue. His shirt is soaked through, sagging heavily on his shoulders as he shoves his way through thick underbrush. Solid, leafy trees extend up, far above his head, creating a canopy of viridian so thick he can barely see the paneling of twinkling circuitry beyond their grasping branches. Everything hurts. Each step he takes sends a wave of pain up through the length of his legs, but he’s too afraid to stop, too worried that Texas is trailing him. He can’t remember when he stepped foot in such a dense labyrinth of shrubbery, or how long he had been traveling through this subterranean jungle. Everything is a blur of terror and doubt and sweat and pain. But he knows he’s alive, somehow, he knows he needs to find Mike. Chuck stumbles, his canvas sneaker catches on the weedy length of an exposed tree root. He falls sharply on his shoulder, into the dirt and vegetation. Awkwardly he tries to gather his legs beneath him, push himself up, continue on, run, but he’s drained. His body surrenders to exhaustion. He eases his eyes shut, just enough to alleviate the headache pounding like a ball-peen hammer on the back of his head. He lays on the ground, his face pressed into the greenery, the smell of dark soil and cool grass tickling his nose. Sleep weighs down on him, pushes on his eyelids, until he eventually gives in to the lulling warmth and slips into unconsciousness on the tangled jungle floor.
Bark scrapes against his skin like the rough scratch of claws and yet it does not bother him. Leaves and roots, dirt and vines. All were an accustomed and welcome sight to the two sets of eyes, even if the secondary could not see as well as the first. Vines pulse against his skin, throbbing like a crippled and struggling heartbeat as they move blood through his system. He and the plant were merged this way, removing it would cause damage.
Chuck had simply been resting in the high branches of a tree, one leg hanging loose and free, swinging lazily from side to side without purpose. Though the crash and crunch of branches, the distress spores of injured plants, all of the noise and smells get his attention. Someone had intruded on their territory. Torn lips pull back to reveal gnashing, saw like teeth. Adept for the tree life, it takes a few quick swings and drops to skid down to the jungle floor.
The scent is pungent and laced with heavy amounts of fear and sweat. It leads him right to the body collapsed on the ground. Another counterpart, the thought makes him frown. Looks like he’d have to deal with this one too. Green splotched hands reach down and snag hold of the un-mutated Chuck’s shirt, the Terra then beginning to drag him in the direction of the village.
Dragging him into the gutting room is pretty easy but he doesn’t intend to eat this one, not yet. Instead he rolls the body in place, tying the wrists and ankles and leaving the blond stuck in a spread eagle position. Sitting in the corner, he waits while casually sharpening a knife.
I'm alive. Chuck inwardly confirms as blurry, unfocused consciousness leaks in through his mind. He remembers running, falling, the way the springy grass felt beneath his weight before lethargy conquered him. He expects to feel the warmth of fallen leaves against his cheek, the sounds of swaying trees, the buzz of insect wings, the shrill whistle of a fleeting bird. Not the grating noise that fills his ears, that forces the Burners eyelids open. Squinting, he rolls the weight of his head back, shaking off the wooziness that cavorts about the back of his eyes. He's no longer on the forest floor, but in a small, unrecognizable room. From where he sits he can see the distinct shape of a doorway in the distance. Chuck shifts, pulling at his hand. A sharp, incommodious pain propels down from his shoulder to the length of his arm. He hisses, giving the hand pinned behind his back another tug. He ineffectively tries his other arm, his face twisted in distraction. Because it's not his tethered hands that has him staring uncertainly across the room, it's the monstrous shape looming in the distant corner. What the...
He knows a Terra when he sees one, and although their village is nowhere near downtown Motorcity, here he is, staring numbly at what looks to be an immersed Terra-Dweller. Had he run that far? Had he been so absorbed in evading Texas that he had somehow traveled clear across Detroit? He purses his dried lips, letting his eyes settle on the blade, held between the blotted fingers of the hunched figure. Each time the serrated edge struck the stone the sharp scraping elevated. Instantly, he thinks about just how many ways that whetted knife could enter a person...just how reasonable this Terra could be. "Erm..." The blonde swallows once before he clears his arid throat. "Hello?"
With each labored breath, his lungs burn, a caustic fire that tears through his chest like open flames through dry grass. He hasn't stopped running, not since he watched Texas slip back into hysteria, not since he lost Mike during their escape. The empty look in the Burners eyes, the sound of his gnashing teeth, the very lack of humanity was a mortifying experience. It was the fear of knowing that his friend was out there, wandering Motorcity, a violent threat with a delusional taste for flesh, that kept him moving. Sweat sticks to the back of his neck like syrupy glue. His shirt is soaked through, sagging heavily on his shoulders as he shoves his way through thick underbrush. Solid, leafy trees extend up, far above his head, creating a canopy of viridian so thick he can barely see the paneling of twinkling circuitry beyond their grasping branches. Everything hurts. Each step he takes sends a wave of pain up through the length of his legs, but he's too afraid to stop, too worried that Texas is trailing him. He can't remember when he stepped foot in such a dense labyrinth of shrubbery, or how long he had been traveling through this subterranean jungle. Everything is a blur of terror and doubt and sweat and pain. But he knows he's alive, somehow, he knows he needs to find Mike. Chuck stumbles, his canvas sneaker catches on the weedy length of an exposed tree root. He falls sharply on his shoulder, into the dirt and vegetation. Awkwardly he tries to gather his legs beneath him, push himself up, continue on, run, but he's drained. His body surrenders to exhaustion. He eases his eyes shut, just enough to alleviate the headache pounding like a ball-peen hammer on the back of his head. He lays on the ground, his face pressed into the greenery, the smell of dark soil and cool grass tickling his nose. Sleep weighs down on him, pushes on his eyelids, until he eventually gives in to the lulling warmth and slips into unconsciousness on the tangled jungle floor.
I miss Motorcity :(
I came on here to see what was up and your banner is my friends and it's so cute ur blog is cute thanks for reblogging my art so i could see your cute theme
(Well howdy! :-DHaha. I’m glad you like it! I always see your art floating around, it’s absolutely adorable. And I may or may not silently stalk pelicaneggs ssoooo…whatamisayingimahugecreepystalkerfan.Thanks though! That really means a lot. c:)
i felt bad but then i remembered that it’s cute and that’s probably the best chuck I’ve drawn in a while [cue laugh track]
(-BABOONNOISES- FRIGGIN YE S)

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im crying forever bc im forever slowpoke and this show is beautiful
“i’ve been trying to turn this into a .gif but it won’t work because, i think, the image is too big!! : (
characters:
Trickster!Tavros ! ==> DEACTIVATED! : (
Trickster!John ! ==> www.thewhimisicaltrickster.tumblr.com
Experiment!Chuck ! ==> www.blondchiroptera.tumblr.com
Chuck ! ==> www.forchucksake.tumblr.com
Nadine!! (That’s my character! :0 ) ==> www.gummi-chemist.tumblr.com
Lil’ Tavvy ! ==> www.little-tavvy.tumblr.com
Mike Chilton, yeah ! ==> www.motorcitymutt.tumblr.com
damn its WAY past christmas :’) merry late christmas friends”
aha
aahh..haa….
w hy
all of them
th e y’ rej ust gone
spits EVERywhere-
Hello Motorcitizens,
This is a call to action.
Some of you may have noticed that Motorcity’s sister show Tron: Uprising is now on Netflix streaming.
I say we let Netflix know that there are people out there who want to see Motorcity on there...
gunchuckin replied to your post: gunchuckin replied to your post: (I’m back, and...
Hope you had fun! It’s like all I want to write right now is porn. Just gotta get it out of my system.
(I had SUCH a blast. Lots of fun, nice visiting the family. Oh man, I totally know what you mean though. I don't get in those moments often, but when I do, watch out.)
gunchuckin replied to your post: (I’m back, and around. It’s kind of dead here,...
Welcome back! I’m being slow but I’ll get to replies.
(Heeeyyyy. :'D It's good to be back. Take your time, no rush. I get brain mush moments, sometimes they last for months, so I get your pain.)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
(I'm back, and around. It's kind of dead here, huh? If anyone wants to rp hit me up. I'll be on and off all day today.)
Gone from the 14th to the 23rd. Ciao!))