Hey all of you doing the Mobscast, firstly it’s awesome, secondly my next Scribblenauts Bonus Episode will be a film noire spoof, with me as a private detective, and Cindy Cinderblock as my receptionist, trying to find the missing Duncan. (I know it sounds awesome hopefully I can live up to expectations) Semi-importantly I need a cool case name for it, current idea is Case of The Missing Link because its related to science and Duncan is also missing, but if you think of something better let me know. Most importantly however is if anyone could draw a splash intro image, with me in my office maybe or talking to Cindy or just something suitable, I would love to use it in the video and credit you. Thanks, you’re awesome. (Also I’m now probably going to get like 100 drawings and have to pick between them all which will be hard so maybe I’ll just put all the runners up in the video at the end anyway.) Stay awesome!
EDIT: I should mention I’m away from Friday so if I decide to get it done for this Sunday I would need the video ready Thursday night, so you have 24 hours from this post! (6pm GMT Thursday)
Achievement Hunter/Yogscast Hat Films Crossover Part 2:
Mobcast vs Fake AH Crew: The notorious Fake AH Crew is a group of merceneries for hire, famous for their heists in Los Santos. They are hired by a mysterious client to perform a triple assassination -something they haven’t done before. The clients are Hat Films, or the Stunt Lads, a trio who go about performing dangerous stunts involving various stolen vehicles for entertainment. Seems simple enough, but little do the Crew know, this job is part of a much bigger war…
Due to tumblr’s size limit, I had to get rid of a lot of gifs! You can see the full version here: x
I love both AH and the Yogscast, and really there aren’t enough crossovers on tumblr! But please note, this is just for a bit of fun and should not be taken seriously. These guys are real people that I admire greatly and I’d hate for them, or any of you, to be offended. So if there are any trigger warnings you’d like me to put in the tags, please just drop me a note
so in the newest Gary’s mod Lewis pushed sjin down a big slide while he sat on a chair but like what if were mobcast and Lewis ties sjin to he chair and pushes him down stairs as a warning to stay away from their gang
Title: The Fix Main Character(s): Sips and Sjin, with the crew of Honeydew Inc. Details: Features swearing and scary guns, may contain traces of Sjinty and Xephmadia, no slash Synopsis: Cops just aren’t as corrupt as they used to be, and with the rival gangs of Honeydew and Ridgedog pressing steadily in on them the SipsCo duo turn their eye to gambling, the gift that keeps on giving. All they need is the perfect fix - and the perfect fix goes horribly wrong…
Because I got permission :3 Thank you so much you have no idea you beautiful person :) Everyone check out fem-equius rn.
I will know.
Annndd only with the story.
Implied Sjips and implied future Sjipsy, only other warning is for mild language I guess :) enjoyyy
Editor-in-Chief Simmons was not a patient man. But you didn’t become Editor-in-Chief of a prestigous newspaper such as the Evening Star by being a patient man. He didn’t ask for much in life, only to keep the paper rolling long enough to have his name immortalised on the bronze plate in the atrium of the tall building he had practically lived in for 23 years. But this was ridiculous. He stormed out of his sound proof office and into the bustling labyrinth of the editorial floor. The room stopped dead. Reporters, photographers, secretaries, all froze, hands still poised over type writers or mouths hung open mid word. The near constant murmur of the level stopped, leaving only empty silence.
‘There is a robbery.’ He paused his roaring, waiting for a response that wasn’t going to come. 'A BANK ROBBERY.’ Blank faces stared up at him. 'For the love of god, will someone tell me WHY WE ARE NOT THERE NOW?’ The room burst back into life with various 'yessir’s’, causing him to pass a weary hand across his face. 'This could be the story of the year people, move, MOVE! I want every reporter in this building to be at that bank on the double!’ He sighed, turning back into his quiet office haven. He’d better get the dirt or else hell would be raised.
Nilesy grabbed his camera, hastily pushing his arms through his trench coat, before rushing towards the stairs, occasionally pushing his glasses back up his nose. He panted with the exertion of running down 20 flights of stairs (give or take), but he knew this could be his big break as a photographer, if he could just make it to that bank. He’d chosen the quiet and rarely used stairs over the elevators, knowing that all his collegues would be squeezing into them, making the trip twice as long, and besides, a little exercise never hurt anyone. He flew through the foyer, nodding to a couple of the secretaries accustomised to the sudden rush of breaking news, one hand rising to clutch at his hat, while the other gently held his camera, non-regulation (but definitely faster) baseball sneakers squealing over the polished marble floor. He flew out of the revolving door, pausing only to consider running the whole way to the bank. It was only 2 blocks away, right, and cab would take valuable seconds and money. Nilesy urged his aching legs onwards, feet pounding into the concrete pavement slabs as he made his way to the scene of the crime, ignoring the dirty looks thrown at him by the commuters he jostled through.
He was first on the scene. HE WAS FIRST ON THE SCENE! Nilesy’s heart thudded with joy as he paused to suck in a deep ragged breath. His fingers automatically found their places on the camera’s smooth (undamaged, yes!) surface, his mind already whirring with photographic possibilities. Ever since he was a kid, Nilesy had been good with photos, and the moment he hit 17 he saved up enough bucks to by a proper reporter’s camera, and had moved out to the city. 3 years later, here he stood, that same camera clutched into his hands, living the dream. Well, his apartment wasn’t great, but photography wasn’t a big payer, and Nilesy certainly wasn’t one to complain. But he lived and was (relatively) happy, especially working on the 9th floor of the towering building 'The Evening Star’ was located in. He rarely travelled any higher, and it had been a miracle that he was standing a few steps away from the stairs when Editor-In-Chief Simmons had made his announcement. He’d paused only to grab his camera and coat, before sprinting all the way to the bank, where he found himself now, hovering outside the yellow police tape, camera already filling with pictures. But he knew just those were not gonna be enough. He’d need to pull something really special if he want to get these published on the front page. The dark haired man glanced around furtively. The nearest cop was already being interviewed, while the other one was chewing on his gum, back turned. Perfect. Nilesy crept under the tape before dashing into the bank. He knew it was dangerous, but it would pay loads if he could get those shots. You only live once right?
He avoided the main enterance that was lined with cops, instead choosing to shimmy up a drainpipe and clamber in an open window on the first floor. For a moment he paused, thanking his lithe body and lack of fear, before heading down towards the bank foyer.
It was real. And happening in front of Nilesy. Silently he hid around a corner, snapping as many shots as he dared of the wall of police lining the front entrance, the robbers exchanging fire over the counters. Adreneline pumped through his veins. These shots. These ones would take him all the way to fame and fortune, he knew it.
Suddenly a long hand crept over his mouth, stifling the emerging shout, before dragging him back, musky scents washing over him. He’d been found, that’s it, he was a gonner for sure. His kidnapper dragged him back, towards the managers office, pushing him inside, before a menacing whisper pierced his ears.
'Now you aren’t gonna scream when I let go, are you?’ Nilesy shook his head as best he could, and the man relaxed, releasing his iron grip. The dark haired man spun round to face his attacker, a tall thin man, whose brown hair was partially covered by a tilted fedora, while the same hair formed a magnicent beard and moustauche on his chin. He leered down at the smaller man, hands loosely gripping a machine gun, before he slouched over to the door, muttering something inaudible outside the smoked glass. Nilesy took the oppourtunity to glance around. The spacious office was filled with sacks, presumably holding the stolen goods, but before Nilesy could check, the door swung open again, a second, smaller man joining the first. The new comer was dressed in pinstripes, a lazy cigar hanging out of his mouth, his demeanour clearly showing he was in charge here. As Nilesy’s eyes grazed the almost grey skin and 5 o'clock shadow, his eyes widened in recognition.
'Mr Sips? Of Sips co?’ The man chuckled humourlessly.
'The very same. Now …’
'Nilesy.’ He gulped.
'Now, Nilesy, what are you doing in this bank in the middle of my little … operation?’ The pair loomed closer, slick grins spilled across their faces. Nilesy hadn’t forgotten the machine gun.
'Uh, I’m a photographer, see, and I just wanted to get the inside story, some good pictures y'know. I never meant to interrupt -’
'The inside story, huh? Well, I hope this is deep in enough for you, now that you’re technically our hostage.’ He paused, chuckling. 'No, I’m not gonna skin you alive, unless you try to run that is. I just wanna get me and my chopper squad, and blow this joint. But those fuppin’ gum-shoes out there, don’t know when to leave well alone.’ He practically spat out the last sentence, menace lining his voice. 'But as long as you aren’t gonna be a stool-pidgeon, I don’t see what the problem is. Sjin here gets a bit possessive, but I reckon you could be useful.’ More shots rang out, reminding Nilesy of his situation, and that he was currently standing in the same room as one of the city’s most successful business-men (and apparently mobster.) He watched the pair turn to leave, before he found his voice again.
'Hey, uh … Mr. Sips?’
'Sips is fine, Nilesy.’ He blushed. Blushed? Ugh, he’d never live this down afterwards. He could see the smirk tugging at Sips’ tall companion’s lips.
'Uh, I think I could help. Maybe.’
'Yeah, see, I know a back way outta this place that I’m sure the cops won’t have covered.’
'Really. What is this route?’
'Well I could show you if you want.’ Sips paused for a second, before turning to the tall brunette.
'Sjin, grab a few of the boys and get outta here with the loot. We’ll hang back to make sure that the goons out there don’t get suspicous, and then we’ll regroup.’ He turned to Nilesy, a predatory grin splitting his face. 'Nilesy, I leave you in the capable hands of my accomplice here. Oh, but before I go,’ He paused sliding a fat wallet out of his slacks’ pockets. 'A reward should be in order, for your excellent services.’ Nilesy gulped at the wad of notes pressed into his hand, before he noticed a weird lightness on his shoulder. He glanced up to see Sips eject the current reel in his camera, dropping it to the floor, where it was crushed underneath his shining two-tone brogues, the crisp sound making Nilesy wince. 'I’m really sorry, but evidence, y'know how it is. Hopefully that fee will cover any damage.’ He handed back the now useless camera, before sauntering out without another word. Sjin (at least Nilesy thought that was his name) appeared a moment later with a few more pinstriped guys, and they began to grab the bags around Nilesy before Sjin nudged him gently to the door.
'Welcome to the gang.’ Nilesy whirled around, confused.
'Wait, what? No, I don’t want any of this, really.’
'But you accepted the money.’ He gestured around. 'These guys did too. Of course, I could still kill you. Awful shame, considering the … potential.’ Sjin purred, his eyes raking over Nilesy until the smaller man shuddered.
'Uh, this way …’
Nilesy sat in his apartment, counting the wad of notes Sips had given to him. It was enough for him to pay a years rent, and buy that new camera that had been eyeing him up from the shop window. Maybe even for an extra night out, if he scrimped slightly. He sighed, picking up the day’s newspaper. A huge headline screamed at him.
'Mobsters take millions! In an unexpected turn of events, the unknown gang of criminals made off with a haul of millions yesterday, making this the city’s third robbery this month.’ He put down the paper with a sigh. As much as he hated it, it paid well, and the rush of adreneline he had felt still gave him shivers. He contemplated the phone number he had found tucked inside the money Sips had given him, before standing up, stretching his legs, and wandering to the phone, hand clutching the slip of paper.
Sips gazed out of the huge window in his penthouse office, grey sky framing his empire. He felt Sjin slide into the room, but he kept his gaze averted to the masses of tiny beings swarming in the city below.
'What do ya think, Sipsy?’ He turned to see Sjin sprawled lazily in one of the leather chairs adorning his office.
'I’d say it was a profitable experience, Sjin. Looks like we got enough to branch out into some other ventures now.’ The tall man nodded, before turning his discerning gaze on to the Sips Co CEO.
'You know what I mean though, the kid. Nilesy or whatever. Think he’ll ring back?’ Sips smiled, turning to his old friend.
'I’m sure of it. I could see the rush in his eyes, plus he needs the money. He’ll prove useful, obviously knows his way round the city, and clever enough to plan a heist. We’ll make good use of his services.’ He ignored the eyebrow creeping up the brunettes forehead.
'I’m sure we will Sipsy, I’m sure we will.’
Hope y'all enjoyed :3