#madmanbluebox

Send me your URL and I’ll tell you

My Opinion on;

Character in general: Eleven..my baby, I didn't like him at first, but within the first half of season 5 I was sold.  He was a puppy and yet he wasn't.  He could be so dark and haunted.  How they play them:  The Mun s a gem, a true star.  She is 11 to me, one of the first 11's to take me under her wing and RP with me..and that was over a year ago! The Mun:  My goodness where to start?  She's funny, kind, smart, and quite sexy.  She Cosplays Clara like a boss too.  Just saying..

Do I:

RP with them:  Yes, Yes I do, and yes you may feel jealous...Want to RP with them:  All the time.

What is my;

Send me a ♠ for my muse's reaction to walking in on yours masturbating.

(Oh Claire, I would URL you all night long darling XD)

SEND A URL AND I WILL ANSWER THE FOLLOWING;

Do I Follow Them?:  God Yes

Why Did I Follow Them?:  Because for the longest time I believed that they were 11.

Do We Role Play?:  Yep

Do I Want To Role Play With Them:  All day every day

An AU Idea For Our Muses: Well, we've got canon and AU going right now.  Another AU - He's traveling alone, Rose was never a companion, he comes across a planet selling slaves and frees her, only to have her follow him to the TARDIS...

A Song For Our Muses:  I Was Made to Love Her - Stevie Wonder

Do I Ship Our Muses?:  All the yes

What I Think About The Mun:  Well, if eleventoomany was one of the first 11's I rped with, my Madman here was THE first.  Claire is wonderful, witty, smart, and so much fun to talk to.  She also cosplays Clara like a boss!

Overall Opinion:   I love her, I adore her, I really honestly do.  

Dear anons:

Judgement bunny is judging you. With salad.

Had enough of your shit bunnies have had enough of your shit.

Meanwhile what you say of Jo is nonsense because she is as fabulous as Fabulous Bunny

               Perhaps there is no real reason;                                           she simply woke up.

                        Eyelids  fluttered  open  to  face  the large,                         reformed  pillow that lay  beside her head,                         doused in pale blue light.  When she rose,                         she was still alone.  There  were too many                         nights   in   her   memory   when  she  had                         woken up in a similar state but hardly any                         of them were fairly recent.

                                                         Anymore, at the very least.  

                             Clara donned his discarded white shirt                          as her only cover up as she rose from where she lay to                          investigate this matter.

       Upon leaving the room they called theirs,        her  footsteps  were  light  as  she peered        ( quickly )    on    her   sleeping   daughter.        Security  measures and systems in place,        the little  girl  slept  quite  peacefully  and        protected.

                Never  one  to  make a sound when in deep slumber,                 that girl, and with good reason. The girl's father had                 kept  her  long  entertained  with  roller  skating  and                 anti-gravity  bike riding just the day prior; that same                 man had kept  his  faithful  wife  just  as  entertained                 when the day had gone out.

                             Yet here she was now, prowling along their home                                            with featherlight footsteps, searching for him. 

          Her  first  guess  often left her satisfied and it remained           true to her now. It might have been a sight to see -- for           one   Mrs  Oswald  to  traipse  from  her  front  door,  in           nothing  but  an  overgrown  white  (  barely  buttoned )           button  down  shirt  to the strange blue police box that           was  permanently  parked  outside  their  porch,  as if it           were  the family car ( and by some definitions, that was           exactly  right ) -- but  she was shrouded in the shadow           of early morning.

                 ❝ Hey —— ❞                Her voice broke the serene near silence                                  within the console  room for the only sound within, when                                  she'd stepped inside (  her  feet  bare,  her brown hair in a                                  state  of  sleepy  disarray ), was the sound of his tinkering                                  and the known sound the engine made when it was on --                                  for lack of a better word -- neutral.