Tumgik
#;pre-engine
notlickingstamps · 2 years
Note
DNA
DNA - What was your Muse's home life like?
Before the unending isolation in Mount Massive, Rick lived in an open floor-plan studio refurbished from an old mill. Upper floors, probably the third. He kept a variety of teas in his cabinets, and his favorite place in the flat was the kitchen. It was the cleanest room of his home.
There was always order. Specific things had specific places, A vase filled with twigs and red ferns near the door, the couch pillows each had a partner they nestled up against in the crook of the couch's cushions. Not a picture frame was ever out of place. In Richard's eyes, his home was the one thing he knew he could control, and he felt content in that thought.
He preferred to not have company over, unless he felt desperately alone. More drugs for him, he justified. The rare occasions he'd have someone over were the quiet, late nights when everyone in the city was asleep. He needed to feel some sort of connection to what he was, after all. Drugs can't mend a person-sized hole in your heart. As life before the engine had it, Richard could never hold onto one person for long enough. He was too messy, she was too loud, he wanted too much cocaine, they wanted to 'Fix Him'--- the list of Not Right People didn't seem to have an end for Rick. Eventually, his days began to bleed together during the florescent blindness of the asylum, and his home became a sore memory of another love lost.
As sore as the more recent memories were of Richard's apartment, the home he shared with his family gushed like a stuck pig if he poked it, and he abandoned that light before it could die out first. He remembers only the fun he'd made with his sister when they were children. That haven is half of the reason he has any concept of his current self at all. A treehouse he and his sister made of twigs and rope felt sturdier than the insured, two-story home his parents owned at the end of a cul-de-sac.
He blocks out the recalling of them, but often will have nightmares of terrible arguments his parents would have, and the terror would take form of the subject they'd fight about; another man or woman usually overbearingly affectionate towards Rick and his sister, a devil or dead man with coins over his eyes and gold nuggets falling from his sleeves, whipping sounds would crack and disorient Rick, blind him, even... It wasn't ever alright.
A horrid memory will creep its way into his mind's eye from time to time, when he and his sister found a lake that buoyed a corpse towards them, all bloated and foul. He dared his sister to touch the corpse, and after her crying and refusing, he pushed his sister onto the corpse. He vividly remembers how he felt when he did it. Frustrated, cynical, bitter. His sister would crawl back onto her feet after getting soaked and pushing the corpse's head into the murkiness below the water, and like a light switch, Rick snapped into the reality of what he'd done. Tears flooded his eyes, and he grabbed his sister up, apologizing profusely. The relationship would never be the same, but she expressed forgiveness the night Richard left his parents' home.
That night was muggy. Cicadas and beetles chirped outside, hiding the back door opening and closing. Rick woke his sister up, and took her to the treehouse they made together. The tweens shared a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey, as Richard told her his plan of leaving, and he swore. He swore he'd find her and whisk her away to another treehouse he'd make just for them. He kissed her on the forehead, and they hugged for a long time. It was the last time they would share a bottle of whiskey. This, he reminds himself, I will always remember.
5 notes · View notes
sailorgundam308 · 2 months
Text
I was complaining Karlach didn’t get her harrowing, angsty and tortured past put in fan work. So I’m doing something about it 🫡
Have a detail, cause I didn’t draw the eye veins popping for nothing.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
mrfisherot · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
915 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Citroën SM Preserial, 1970. Development of "Project S" had begun in 1961 as a grand tourer based on the DS and in 1968 Citroën had bought Maserati to gain access to their high performance engines. The result was the Robert Opron-designed SM first presented at the Geneva Motor Show with its Maserati 90º V6 engine driving the front wheels through a new 5-speed transmission (or 3 speed automatic).
189 notes · View notes
wolfram-but-art · 10 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
littol doodle dump before posting a bigger piece
118 notes · View notes
federationgothic · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Star Trek: Enterprise “Doctor’s Orders”
665 notes · View notes
melonnade · 7 months
Text
Had a really long talk with my roommate about this & we came to opposite conclusions. What do you guys think?
84 notes · View notes
crewtawn · 8 months
Note
STOP DIVORCING ENGIE AND MEDIC IN THE SCIENCE PARTY TAG!!!!
YOU'RE RIGHT RANDOM ANON!!!! WE NEED MORE FLUFF.
Tumblr media
THANK YOU FOR BRINGING ME TO MY SENSES!
81 notes · View notes
404icy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
spring 🌸 ahhh, my favorite season... as usual, i spend most of my days working and studying... contrary to popular belief, i do enjoy studying. i think i'll always be a lifelong learner.
139 notes · View notes
leclercskiesahead · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Why does he still have his race suit on skdjfjgkjttkgk
47 notes · View notes
notlickingstamps · 2 years
Note
XXX
XXX - What's the most raunchiest thing your muse has ever done?
In his heyday, Rick Trager wouldn't hesitate to share scenes of sexual conquest to any old body he wanted to impress. On a noticeably delirious day, the doctor would brag to his 'patients' that folks just couldn't get enough of his cock. He'd snort out an awful chuckle, and drone on with gross, intimate detail of how he'd pull whatever naive little bird he wanted.
All total horse-shit, of course. Trager kept his sexuality like a dragon's hoard, and would rarely allow himself to become as vulnerable as sharing his jewels with anyone who he couldn't read like a vacation brochure. An exception, however, wriggled her awful way into Richard's sex life before Wernicke's infernal machine could have the chance to fuck him.
When Marley fucking Hobgood arrived at Mount Massive, the buzzards flocked. She was an anomaly. Every doctor, every executive that tried to have their way with her (sexually, scientifically, micro-politically) had received a pushback tenfold, delivered personally by her hand. She was wrathful and cunning, quick-witted and unequivocally resourceful. A root which the doctor executive couldn't help but stumble over.
It began with biting dares. Quippy banter that a romantic only wishes they could recreate--- a villain, and the underdog runt which everyone cheered on. Daily visits proved that banter eventually died out, and once Marley caught on, Rick was the only executive she'd even let walk into the small cell, unscathed. She ate up his competitive, aggravating wit, and took it as a game --- an eventual ticket out of Mount Massive.
In October of 2010, a string of tedious, back to back meetings led Richard into staying late one night. Most employees had gone home, and this wasn't the first time Rick had fallen asleep at his desk. On nights prior, he'd take to the cell blocks, ripping away the privacy of night from any patient in house. Sometimes he would antagonize them, causing an entire block to awake in uproar. Even rarer, the doctor would call an escort to spirit away a rather unremarkable victim. The experiments began soon after Hobgood arrived.
This particular night, however, he wandered to Marley's cell. It was more or less a surprise in the groggy, hollow state Rick had been in, but here he was, nonetheless. The officer of this block wasn't around, and peeping inside, he noticed Marley's steady breathing. Having the keycard to most cell-blocks (thank you, Jeremy), the executive took the liberty of stepping inside, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.
And the world outside was silenced. Richard's mind swirled with vertigo before the quiet breaths of Marley Hobgood awakened his dull, drowned out heart beat. In his white coat's breast pocket, the syringe filled with a black, thick liquid became sickeningly real. A bead of sweat fell from his head into his eye. It stung, as his fingers snaked their way into the breast pocket, and curled around the syringe in familiarity.
The months of challenging grins shared between the two flashed through his mind, and his heart beat faster as he stooped to Marley's side and injected the liquid slowly into her veins. The picture-perfect memory of her charming smile was erased as her eyes opened, centering immediately on Trager. Blood rushing into his ears, his lips meet Marley's. You have been the only solace in this hell, Richard thought, as the infection spread over her skin.
The kiss was not enough to save his conscience from this act, however, and so deeper he pushed. The elixir had stolen strength from Marley, and in her final refusal, she took the syringe from her neck and stuck the motherfucker in the eye. She collapsed as Trager recoiled, ripping the syringe from his eye. He threw it to the side of the room and after a strained groan, "bitch, I l o v e you! Yer just too goddamn fun t'leave alone!" He grabbed her face. With a mutated intrigue of disgust, curiosity, anticipation, he absorbed the phenomenon with his remaining eye as the parasite covered, inexplicably, half of her face. She blearily stared at him with an inkling of betrayal, and reached her hand to his face, "you don't love me."
Trager laughed contritely, "you're the only fuckin thing I love," and pressed himself against her, feeling the untainted softness of her skin against his lips, blood dripping hungrily down onto a smooth canvas from the eye Marley claimed as her own trophy.
1 note · View note
sailorgundam308 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Heartless
409 notes · View notes
mrfisherot · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
100 notes · View notes
sn4pozu · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
fugly little class doodles i made waiting out a maths exam, excuse the wheezer cats i was bored HEEHEE
112 notes · View notes
b0tster · 1 year
Text
Time for another Bloodborne Kart dev post! Part 1: Re-balanced stamina, now every kart can do 3 boosts at max with the variation being how far into the negatives they end up afterwards, which felt more fair. Part 2: I completely rewrote the collision code, and now karts will more accurately get knocked out of the way if they are hit by a heavier kart, and vice versa where a lighter kart will struggle to push a heavier kart if they collide into them
208 notes · View notes
theflyingkipper · 2 years
Note
Are there any particular funny anecdotes you have thought of of Duri adjusting to not being ✨An Elder✨ on Sodor?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Wrong world war.
398 notes · View notes