"Do Jakkai chirr/purr like cats do if you scratch behind their ears?"

As a result of my Patreon surpassing its first milestone, from now on you can ask questions of the Slightly Damned cast and I will draw their answers.

If you would like to ask any questions, e-mail them to chu@raizap.com, or PM me here or on any of my art sites, or mention me on twitter at @sdamned! You can direct your questions to specific characters or leave it open.

Chirr: The Word of the Day



A harsh trilling sound, such as that made by crickets.

Without doubt scissors and razors are weapons, and there was something about this metallic chirr that gratified Ivanov’s warlike soul.
Nabokov, Vladimir. “Razor.” The Complete Short Stories. New York: Vintage, 1997. Page 180.

Sooperphli’s WORD OF THE DAY: Vocabulary from Vladimir Nabokov’s short stories #417 | Series XXV “Razor" Revisited (#3)

captain-seismicwave said:

[[because why the hell not, we know where this goes]] "Baby take your clothes off"


Fraction gave the pirate a raise of an optical ridge, a low chuckle being made at the sudden request. “Oi ‘r’ ye’ buzzed? Kinda’ out th’ blue, that request.” Though, he couldn’t see the harm in it. So, of course, he moved back a bit to unlock his armor, stripping himself down, piece by piece, gradually revealing the scarred protoform underneath with a chirr and wiggle of audials.

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Recopilación de gifs musicales en vídeo 

Creedme que lo de poner recopilación de gifs musicales en vídeo me chirría pero es que sería poco práctico que no fuera una recopilación en vídeo you know.

Date Night


Don’t panic.

Seriously what do you mean ‘don’t panic’ of course you should panic

Nella wiped lipstick off from her cheek for the third time as she got ready, her hands shaking an embarrassing amount as she tried to don her makeup and appropriate clothing. She muttered a curse, and Baby made a soft chirr-ing sort of noise in confusion from her bed. “Oh, screw lipstick,” she muttered, tossing it back into her makeup bag. She sighed heavily, smoothing out her pale lavender dress to try and calm the little tremors.

She stepped back from the mirror in order to see herself, just close enough for her cat to bump her hip with his head, another noise rolling out of him. He could almost talk, if he wanted to. Nella looked at him, then plopped down on the bed, lifting him up into her arms and snuggling him a lot. She sighed against his fluffy body. “Sorry, Baby. I’m just… nervous. I’ll be okay.” The cat purred a little, his paw touching her cheek in what was probably a consoling gesture.

The sound of the transportalizer jolted the Prospitian woman a little. She looked to the cat, then kissed his nose. The little bright pink dot in his otherwise white-ish face wrinkled up as she dropped him on the bed. “Be good, Baby. Behave.” 

When the cat meowed softly, she smiled, then walked through her house with a shaky step. “Bits?”

anonymous said:

Comfort Me - Psycho and Blackhole

Sometimes Psycho didn’t know how to behave around the bitlet, much less when said bitlet was upset.

Blackhole wanted to explore, see what all is out there, and maybe even meet others and make friends.  However, Pseudo wasn’t too keen on the idea and scolded him for the stupid thought.  They were predators, monsters.  The moment Blackhole would set a pede out and say “hi,” he would be terminated!  The sparkling didn’t even know how to properly fight yet.  Blackhole thought differently though, but Pseudo wouldn’t let him get his word in and stomped a foot in warning.

So Blackhole was perched in a tree a little distance from where they’ve camped, curled up and quietly sobbing into his arms.  That is, until he heard a soft chirr-ing sound to his left.  He jumped and blearily looked, seeing Psycho standing beside the tree with his helm tipped to the side.  When Blackhole realized it was just him, he hiccuped and turned, trying to wipe the optical fluid away.  “G-go away, don’ w-wanna t-talk…”

But Psycho was concerned over the distress radiating from his tiny charge.  The mech shook his head and shuffled closer, reaching out to scoop Blackhole from his perch.  The bitlet didn’t fight back however and pouted.  Psycho moved a thumb to turn Blackhole’s helm to his face.  .:What’s wrong?:.

Blackhole’s optics flicked up at Psycho, but he glanced back down after a moment.  He sighed and remained silent though…  Psycho frowned and after a moment, Blackhole sniffled and a few more drops of optic fluid trailed down his face.  He blinked, then drew the sparkling closer and-

Blackhole squeaked and sputtered as a large tongue scraped from his chest up.  His arms flailed as he flung slobber everywhere.  “E-eww!  Dad!”

Psycho perked up a little at his work.  Make for a cleaner and less sad sparkling.  However, now he was just glaring at him now…and his fuzz wasn’t right…  “Wh-wha no no ick!” Blackhole shrieked as several more licks were applied, “Eww sto-ahaha stop!  No-aha no!”

The torture ended in giggles, which was better than crying.  Happy bitlet noises made Psycho happy in return.  Blackhole was still grossed out by the slobber and he flung it back into Psycho’s face in retaliation before wiping his face and fixing his helm fuzz.  “I didn’t need a bath Dad.” he giggled.

Blackhole instinctively moved to one hand as Psycho raised the other to wipe off the flung drool.  The large mech gave a grating sound that almost sounded like a chuckle and smiled.

Blackhole’s smile faded though, and he looked away for a moment.  “…hey, Dad?  Do you think…I could ever be as strong as you guys?  And go see the world?”

Psycho…understood that his spark made him unwell…but that hope in his optics…  He was still little, so there was still a lot of time for him to get bigger and…maybe he would do better.  Or maybe they could find the proper medic to help him.  His smile was warm when he nodded, causing a grin from the sparkling.  He giggled and quickly flew to his face and hovered there as he hugged him.  “Thank you Dad.”

A purr rumbled from the mech as he nuzzled him back, claws raised in case Blackhole fell.  “̖͔͚̪̫Wẹ̘̮ͅl̸͈͇̳̝̺͉.̳̱̭̝͈̘̙̕.̴͓̺̬͚̘̯͚.̯̲̤͞c̙̦͔ò̳̜͖m̜̞ͅe.̰̦̩͕͕͠.̝.̤̜͎̜̳̲͈”̝̼̙̺̲̞̣

ask-the-young-heroes said:

Fairy Wind is sitting on a tree branch looking over at Galaxy without realizing it's him. "Wow, that's a pretty bird...I wonder what kind it is..." He mumbled.


"Chirr! Chirr-eep!" Galaxy chirps, sitting himself down next to Wind and smiling. Though Wind can’t understand him… It’s still good to see a friendly face in this form! And one that’s his size, no less!

But… Why was Wind making little bell sounds?

Return of the Lorax - Chapter 2

It was a nice sunny day with light breeze and some lazy clouds crossing the sky, when Dark-ler decided to find answer on troubling him questions once and for all. He stood in the grass not so far from his house and listened to the strange noises. If only several days ago they were scattered sporadically through the land, and it was a trouble to find them, now they were everywhere: chirr, hum, buzz and rustle of all sorts surrounded him, confusing him with their quantity and inexplicable melodiousness. Finally, Dark-ler chose a target and cautiously, as possible, started to approach it. He was close to the source of the noise and his hopes to solve the mystery were as strong as never, when another sound distracted him. At first, Dark-ler tried not to pay attention to it, focused on his target, but the sound behind him was becoming louder with every moment until the man recognized it. The Dark-ler turned around abruptly, not fearing to scare his “prey” anymore. “Ghosts” in the grass mattered no more and their noise obscured to the sight that Dark-ler witnessed.

Straight to him, looking cheerful and proud, flew Karoo, and the bird was not alone. The crow was followed by sunny-yellow birds, whose bright look Dark-ler almost forgot after many years of darkness. The flock noticed him, but, despite his expectations, there were no condemnatory or aggrieved looks directed to him: Swomee-Swans looked at the man with interest and joy.


Approached the Dark-ler, Karoo perched on his shoulder and cawed softly, looking at him. At first, fascinated by the scene, Dark-ler said nothing, continuing to look absently above him at the golden birds, however, soon his friend drew his attention.

 - Ah, hello… I am so glad to see you. - The Dark-ler stroked the bird’s neck lightly with his finger, but next moment looked up again. – It is hard to believe in what I see… Is it real or I truly gone crazy? First those strange sounds and then this… - He fell silent again, preferring not to think about why he saw it, but enjoy the sight. Even if it was an illusion, he didn’t want to chase it off: he was willing to witness it for eternity. And with each moment the sight was becoming more and more glorious.

Swomee-Swans continued to fill the valley. They landed in the grass and rollicked there; they flew to the ponds and creeks to take a bath in crystal-clear water; some of them landed in the young Truffulas and even on the Dark-ler’s house roof. After some time Dark-ler started to notice that some Swans were carrying objects, no less bright than they were themselves. The birds with the “load” flew only to water, where they dropped it. Soon the valley filled with happy hum that was coming from the ponds and Dark-ler understood what the “cargo” was. Not only Swomee-Swans returned to their home today, but Humming-Fish joined them in their trip. And together they brought that necessary bit of life that the valley lacked before. However, something still was missing: there were no Bar-ba-loots in sight, the last of magical species that lived in the valley many years ago. But this thought, along with concomitant fears and suspicions in the Dark-ler’s mind, was suddenly interrupted by another, no less striking one.

The man turned to look at the crow on his shoulder so abruptly that Karoo looked at him with incomprehension.

 - How… - uttered Dark-ler finally after short silence, frowning lightly. – How it happened that you came among them? Or… did they come with you?

As a reply Karoo only tilted its head to the side, and it was noticeable that good mood returned to the bird.

 - So… - The Dark-ler frowned, realizing. – Can it be that it was you, who showed them the way?

 - Exactly, beanpole.

anonymous said:

*Bob chirrs and rubs up against Sunstreaker before bouncing off.*

Sunstreaker looks at Bob for awhile before venting and tapping his thigh plating, calling the insecticon back.

It’s moments like this that stop me in my tracks and make me watch in awe as the sky around me changes and I hear the crickets chirr during the quiet hours of the early evening. Oh how wonderful this time of the day is, it might just be my second favourite after the early morning hours.

My Name by Mark Strand

Once when the lawn was a golden green
and the marbled moonlit trees rose like fresh memorials
in the scented air, and the whole countryside pulsed
with the chirr and murmur of insects, I lay in the grass,
feeling the great distances open above me, and wondered
what I would become and where I would find myself,
and though I barely existed, I felt for an instant
that the vast star-clustered sky was mine, and I heard
my name as if for the first time, heard it the way
one hears the wind or the rain, but faint and far off
as though it belonged not to me but to the silence
from which it had come and to which it would go.

¿Serás quien quieres ser?

¿Serás quien quieres ser?

Lo siento, es superior a mis fuerzas. Hay un anuncio en el que un afamado entrenador de futbol aparece y dice: “Si puedes imaginar serás quien quieras ser”, y lo cierto es que cada vez que lo oigo me “chirrían” mis pocas neuronas, y no por que considere que la automotivación y los anclajes emocionales no tengan su importancia, antes bien todo lo contrario, sino porque creo que la vida es más un…

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