and trying not to use max irons :

Sammy’s becoming quite a character. Last night I heard all this mewing going on while I was watching TV. All of a sudden Sammy comes racing at full speed into the room and slides to a stop at my feet with his ball in his mouth. He puts the ball down and sits and stares at me. While he does not get the idea of catch, he sure has figured out how to say “play with me”.

This morning I gave them all 7 a bit of cat nip and then picked up the least used toys and sealed them in the catnip ziplock bag and put it in it’s drawer in wrought iron/wicker side table with 5 drawers. The drawers have a little cut out you can use as pull but it’s open to the contents. A few hours later, while I’m doing laundry, I hear odd noises from the porch. I find Sammy stretched to his max height, paw in the hole of the top drawer, trying to rip the catnip bag open. So he demonstrating long term memory…he will be a smarty pants!

Death Wish Pt. 1

My Pathfinder party includes a ranger (Shooty McStabs), a druid (Half-Orc female straight-man to the group), a cleric (White Mage with strange bloodlust), a gnome fighter (The Iron Gnome) and myself, as the barbarian (Junior Viking). Level two, trying to find some ogres (not the best plan) so we can find the corpses of the Vikings (dubious) that were pillaging some places around this town we’re at so we can claim the bounty on them. There’s also a separate bounty on the ogres, but considering we’re level 2, that’s not exactly the best idea. Most of us also rolled shit for stats, so bad that my highest attribute (STR) is 14, after human racial modifiers. Some others got a little better with a max of 15 or 16, which is respectable, in my opinion.

Also for context, our DM’s a bit new. We’re his experimental group as he learns the ropes, and I provide some backup on rules when he needs them. Sometimes we get these massively unbalanced encounters, such as when we were level one, and there was a bandit captain with over thirty health flanked by six of his goons with repeating crossbows. We were all out of healing spells, I was out of rounds of rage and at low health, and one of our guys took an “absent from session” nap. Not a good day, especially considering we needed to get past the bandit captain, there was no sneaking past him, and we didn’t have enough oil or explosives around to let me jury-rig a way past that. I’ve been playing/DM-ing for a little over ten years, so I’ve run the gamut of crazy stories and insane workarounds for things like that.

So we’re strolling up this mountain. The druid and ranger are doing a good job tracking these ogres via horribly bloody prints and mangled scenery, and everybody BUT me is trying to use Stealth. I don’t have D12’s for hit die just so I can be subtle. Druid and Cleric do poorly, the Iron Gnome is a walking can of clunkiness, Ranger Nat20’s it. We can’t even find the Ranger anymore, he’s so beyond our Perception checks. He just leaves notes for us to follow. Then we hear this loud horn. None of us managed to see the OGRE standing at the top of this small hill on this portion of the mountain, so he started calling his buddies. As previously stated, we’re level 2. A single ogre is CR 3. We’re about to get a whole heap of trouble coming our way, and we all know it. We have the teamwork effectiveness of blind mewling kittens, but we’re working together more often.

Saark, my Barbarian, has a death wish. He’s died once before (afore-mentioned bandit captain encounter), and he went to Valhalla. He got resurrected because he still has things to do, dammit, but he also wants to go out in another blaze of glory in combat just so he can go back there and share more stories.

So, this ogre tooted his own horn, and the rest of the party freaked out a bit, since the last time this happened, they ran screaming to town with the Vikings (dubious) sacrificing themselves (also dubious) so the party could get to town, carrying my corpse from the first time I died. Saark, however, could understand what was happening, but he didn’t give an aerial fornication. Instead, he was joyfully pissed.

Initiative’s rolled, Saark went first, ogre went second. Saark raged and charged (standard Barbarian operating procedure, along with Powah Attahk), dealing about half his health in one swing. Ogre got pissed and tried to pick up Saark to strangle him, as he didn’t have a weapon in his hands, and also provoked an attack of opportunity, much to my delight. The second blow killed off the signal-sounding ogre without a hitch.

 So, in less than six seconds, the ogre went from triumphantly trumpeting to fleshy speed-bump. The rest of the party looked on in awe, finally dropping their half-baked plans of stealth and subterfuge against ogres. However, combat was still going on. Saark was still raging, but there’s no other enemies in sight. The rest of the party sort of shrugged as immediately after, three more ogres show up on these messed-up looking warboar things. I think the DM threw them at us like that as a sort of “Fuck you. None of you are getting away this time.” That’s when the DM called the session to a close.

As I said before, we’re all level 2. Prospects are bleak. We don’t even have masterwork equipment yet. This is a curb-stomp battle if I’ve ever seen one. However, it looks like Saark’s going to get his wish, though not before he laughs in the face of death and forces his party to join him in either desperate combat, or glorious defeat.

I’ll update after the next session, when we get around to it, and only if it’s sufficiently entertaining. Meanwhile, keep on chuckin’ dice, all.

anonymous asked:

mchanzo for the shipping thing!

  • falls asleep on the couch -McCree for sure he stays up late watching old cowboy movies and falls asleep at like 3 am on the couch
  • makes friends with the neighbors - McCree, he at least gets more friendly than Hanzo, enough to have casual conversations but not where they’re joining the neighborhood safety group
  • is the adventurous eater - I feel like Hanzo would be more willing to try new foods
  • hogs the covers at night - Hanzo. His titty may be out all the time but he gets cold when sleeping
  • forgets to do the dishes - McCree. He probably uses the excuse of his metal hand not getting rusted or messing with the circuitry
  • tries to surprise their partner more often - McCree, but I don’t feel it works too often if he’s trying to startle Hanzo, but surprise gifts always make Hanzo smile
  • leaves dirty laundry on the floor -McCree. Pick ya damn clothes up boy
  • stays up til 2 AM reading - Hanzo. I also headcanon that he doesn’t sleep well so this helps
  • sings in the shower - Hanzo. Max and I determine that he and Genji listen to Vocaloid, but Hanzo listens to it ironically and sings to it absent mindedly
  • takes the selfies - McCree. The taller bf has better reach to take the picture
  • plans date night - Both. It’s mostly a plan of ‘idk what do you wanna do?’ ‘i dunno what you wanna do?” til they settle with ice cream and watching a movie at home

anonymous asked:

pricefield based on this [ 40(.)media(.)tumblr(.)com/dfcc2baace802394295ea1f0a5aa3b69/tumblr_ng68x4Hz2b1qk0dj4o1_540(.)jpg

Based on this text:

-Wait, did you just flirt with me?

-Have been for the past year but thanks for noticing.

Slight AU here, where the tornado never happened, and Max has been reunited with Chloe for almost a year. [This one got kinda silly lol]

“-And that, class, is why smartphone cameras, are a joke. You can now be dismissed.” Mr. Jefferson ended his lesson exactly in tune with the bell.

‘Who would even try that?’ Max had pondered over what her favorite teacher had just ranted about. Apparently, using your phone for project submissions is a big no-no is his book. Max agreed, but that’s probably because he’s her favorite.

Sure Max likes the guy, but her relationship with him is the equivalent to an embarrassing fan trying to get the lead singer to notice them.

Like the saying goes: 'There’s plenty of fish in the sea’ and for Max; that person -ironically enough- had the hair to match.

Her best friend: Chloe.

The fondest of memories came from the times Max had spent before she left for Seattle. The following five-year radio silence wasn’t the best, but their reunion almost a year ago was pretty damn awesome. With Chloe, Max felt, well, giddy to be with her again. But that was an emotion from five years ago, now there had been some one-ended infatuation coming from Max’s end of the equation.

In the year they’ve been hanging out again; Max has totally tripped for Chloe.

There was no denying it. The photographer remembered how pretty Chloe was before things turned bad. But now? The punk-rock look took pretty to a whole new level. She didn’t think she would be the type to dig that kind of style, but nope. Chloe was sexier than any Model, Sports car, or TV out there.

And Max really likes TV’s.

Her poor flirting skills mixed with Chloe’s inability to see them that made things complicated. If Max were to ask Chloe to meet her for dinner, she’d A: Make the catch-line an abstract and catastrophic fail, and B: Said meetings usually turned into a hangout with Chloe’s other friends.

She was bad at flirting, plain and-

“Max? Are you alright?” A soft tone pulled the brunette from her hopeless mulling.

“Huh?” Max quickly glanced around, her eyes meeting an almost empty room. All except for-

“Oh Kate, hey.”

“Class is over Max, did you zone out again?” Kate gently asked. She stood idly by Max’s desk.

“I…I guess so.”

“Is it about Chloe again?”

Max nearly blushed. Kate was the only person she trusted with this secret. Saying it in the open like this was unacceptable!

“Shh,” Max spat, “Not out loud.”

Kate crossed her arms, looking down at Max with disdain on her face, “Max, everyone knows. I even think Samuel does.”

“No he doesn’t.”

Kate tried not to laugh, “Remember three months ago; when you ran through the sprinklers on purpose, because you thought being soaked would help you ask Chloe out?”

“It works in TV shows, y'know the girl comes out of the water, and the guy is all over her?” Max weakly defended herself.

“Chloe’s a girl, Max. Plus you’re not the best at flirting.”

The photographer made a face of mock hurt, “Way to help your friend, Kate.”

“How about less antics, and more simplicity about it?”

“Mmmrrgh,” Max whined, “I’ll try something,   not my fault Chloe’s so blind.”

“Max, Kate, class is over. Please, leave my classroom.” Jefferson sounded from behind them. Both girls turned.

“Sorry Mr. Jefferson,” Kate replied for them both, she looked back to the dazed Max, “Come on Max. Let’s go talk somewhere else.”

“Whatever you say.”

######

Later that evening, like way later, Max confined herself to two things: her dorm, and her guitar.

She sat in near darkness, her room barely illuminated by the sun slipping below the horizon. The photographer strummed away at nothing in particular, just strumming, thinking about stuff.

She felt a tad bit lonely. Kate couldn’t hang around for too long, and Chloe had been a ghost all day -not a single text.

Bzzzzt

'Never mind.’

Next to her thigh; Max’s phone lit up. A new message from Chloe resting at the top of her notifications list.

'Well here goes another failed attempt.’

She grasped the device and read the message.

Chloe: dude, what’s up?

Max: Nothing.

Chloe: what do you mean nothing?

Max: Nothing.

Chloe: boo sorry I wasn’t around today mom freaked out about how messy the house is had to clean my room

Max: Poor you. Find anything good under that mess?

Chloe: I did dweeb found this awesome shirt gimme a sec i’ll send u the pic

Max waited a few seconds, a picture of what looked like every other punk rock shirt flashed on screen.

Chloe: neat huh?

Max: It’s cool. Maybe I could talk you out of it?

Chloe: i ain’t wearing it right now

With a face palm and a small whine of defeat, Max tipped back onto her bed. 'Fail number 82,561’

Her phone vibrated again, without much care; Max picked it up again and read what Chloe had to say.

Chloe: …

Chloe: wait

Chloe: wait

Chloe: did you just flirt with me?

'Shit!’ Max couldn’t believe it. Was she dreaming? Had her poor skills finally gotten through Chloe’s thick head?

Max: Maybe.

Chloe: u brat you were!

Max: Well I have been for the past year, but thanks for noticing.

Chloe: …

Chloe: wait that sprinkler thing wasn’t a joke?

Max: Maybe…

Chloe: wow lol you could have just asked

Max tried not to freak out at that.

Max: I DID! Sort of…

Chloe: well u got something to say?

Max: Maybe…

Chloe: stop being cute and just ask!

Max: Hey Chloe, can I take you and your thick skull out?

Chloe: maybe….

Max: :/

Chloe: two whales. tomorrow. breakfast

Max literally tossed her phone in glee. 82,561 attempts and she finally did it.

A series of voicemails | Sam x Clemintine

@there-is-blood-on-my-hands

It had been three weeks since Clemintine had dropped all contact with her. She had pushed herself to ignore the urge and try and call the old friend who had now grown to be a stranger. She patched things up with Alex, even though the two of them continued to have a rocky relationship. It mostly consisted on fights which were made up, usually sexually rather than just verbally. Alex started to pull away and Sam was quite sure she lost the other at that moment she found out for sure, that Sam still had feelings for Clemintine. And who could blame her. 

The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message” 

“Hey, it’s me. So, I know you don’t want to talk to me right now but.. I wish you would. I miss you” 

Alex was in the other room that night. The second time she tried to call she was no longer in a relationship.  “The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message” - “I know it’s unfair to call you every time. But I miss you. Alex is gone. It’s not a reason for you to talk to me but… Fuck, I don’t even know what i’m thinking”

Days passed slowly. Sam lost her job and things weren’t going to well. She went to live with Max, who was surprisingly cool to even consider having her stay at his place with the whole money situation. She’d find a job again, it was more that she did not feel like it than that she couldn’t. She cooked -which was surprisingly considering she used to be unable to- and she cleaned the house for Max -another thing she loathed doing. But It was fine, she wasn’t entirely alone. 

She still went to parties a lot.. Made out with random strangers and even slept with a guy. He was surprisingly hot but still ended up quite boring. She was definitely gay, which was proven with her lack of passion. Max and her gamed whenever they were together, mostly. She got a job again and moved out again as soon as she could afford it. During that period though, despite Max’ cheery being and the fact she had friends surrounding her, she felt awfully lonely. 

She had called about 32 times. 

The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message”  “It’s been fucking months. You know I hate drama and still, here I am, calling you. Can’t you just please, for once, pick up your phone? Do you seriously hate me that much?”

The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message” “I’m weak. But I miss having you here. I honestly don’t know what to do without you. I’ve grown way too attached. I miss my friend. My girlfriend. Ironically it is my own fault.”

The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message”  “Happy birthday Clemintine”

The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message” “I thought I would be able to reach you if I really needed you.”

The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message” “Clemintine? Max here. Something’s up. Please call me back. You are probably not picking up because i’m using Sam’s phone.”

Max called from another phone -unknown number-  “The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message” 

“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message”  “Clemintine, I think she’s dying”