Can I please please request MTMTE Misfire, Overload, Prowl, and IDW Thundercracker trying to prank Big M (Megatron) and OP with their human s/o? Please and thank you :D
Just in time for April Fools day! :D I don’t really know who Overload is though, so I left him out, but the others are all there. I don’t really know too much about IDW outside of MTMTE, but hopefully these are fairly in character.
Misfire: This guy is like the prank master! He’d probably be the one to initiate the
pranking, but if you came up to him with the idea first, he’d look down at you
with a wicked grin and hearts in his optics.
His pranks are classic and straightforward, but diabolically
ingenious. First, he’ll set up a good
old game of shoot shoot bang bang around the Lost Light, lurking in corridors
and waiting for the Big M to walk by. (“Ten
points for his chest, fifty for a headshot!”)
You manage to get in a few good shots on Megs’ leg (as it’s the only
place you can really reach). The
co-captain’s not going to give you any grief over it, though (he’ll just stare
down at his leg with an indifferent expression.
“Why?” “Um, April Fools?”) Misfire on the other hand has another thing
coming. After scoring a spectacular shot
to Megatron’s left optic, (“Whoo-hoo! Two
hundred point bonus!”) he has to book it round the corner to Swerve’s where
Megatron is hit with phase two of Misfire’s diabolical plot: clear plastic wrap
around the door frame! You two might
wanna lie low for a while after that one.
Prowl: Let’s face it, Prowl’s not exactly known
for his sense of humor. However, if he
found out that you had a plan to prank the great Optimus Prime, he’ll probably
crack just a hint of a smile at that. He
might not be the best at coming up with the actually pranks, but he’s great at
covering for you. After all, who’s going
to believe that Prowl had anything to do with it? Your plan is simple, yet brilliant, taking
advantage of the nearly identical layout of High Command’s many meeting
rooms. Firstly, you have Prowl send a
fake, official looking memo from Magnus to OP scheduling a meeting. Optimus wanders into the meeting room at the
appointed time only to find you and Prowl already in the middle of what looks
like another meeting. “Sorry. My mistake.
I must have the wrong room,” OP mutters closing the door and rechecking
his meeting maker, which now seems to have a different room number. Funny, he could have sworn this was the right
room. Taking advantage of Prowl’s
knowledge of the building’s shortcuts, you both pop into a different meeting
room and strike up a fake conversation just as Optimus opens the door, mouth
agape. “Yes, Optimus? Did need anything else?” This happens at least three more times, until
the leader of the autobots starts to question what is even real anymore. He sends a memo to Magnus asking to reschedule
and heads over to Maccadam’s for a much needed drink.
Thundercracker: This guy has a vast knowledge of Earth
culture, and considers himself very savvy when it comes to pranks (In reality,
he’s just a memelord, but let the boy have his dreams.) He comes up to you with his idea to prank
Megatron, looking like Buster when she has a new toy. He’s been combing the internet for the best
prank ideas, and has a whole list to run by you for approval. (“No.
Nope. Not that one. Or that one.
Possibly that one. This one’s not
even an actual prank. That one would
literally get you killed. And- wait a
second. This one’s just a picture of
Buster.” “I know! Isn’t she adorable?”) You convince him to go for the low-key
approach: confuse don’t abuse and all that jazz. Megatron wakes up that morning to find a
picture of Optimus Prime stuck to his badge.
(Huh. That’s weird. Oh, well, time to start the day.) He slowly begins to notice more pictures of
Optimus around the lost light. Anytime
there’s a picture of somebody’s face, a picture of OP’s head has been taped
over it. Optimus pictures begin to show
up in other areas too, carefully hidden.
The back of his captain’s chair?
Optimus. The inside of his desk
drawer? Optimus. The ceiling after groaning and rolling his
optics in frustration? The Big O strikes
again. The real coup de grace however,
is when he drags himself over to Swerve’s at the end of the day for a stiff
drink. His optics widen in horror as he
gazes out upon a sea of paper masks depicting his long time former nemesis. Every identical face turns toward him as he enters
and in a unified voice shout with exuberance:
“Till all are one!” Megatron does
not leave his habsuite for a solid week afterwards.
Amok Time Toys has treated us to a sneak peek at the prototype of their upcoming figure of Dr. Herbert West from Re-Animator. The long-awaited collector’s item will be released as part of their Monstarz line in 2015.
Please note this is the prototype, Arm articulation will be added, paint will have a few changes and eye glass lenses will be clearer then in the pictures. Monstarz is on the way of Re-Animating another forgotten action figure for fright fans!
“I have to confess – I did not think it was possible for
this place to look any worse.”
“Your observation is somewhat less than helpful.” Fenris
didn’t bother to look up at the sound of Sebastian’s voice. He pulled another
drawer out of the dresser and dumped its contents onto the ground, then
squatted to sort through it.
“It’s not going to be in there,” the archer said gently.
“Your certainty is so very appreciated.”
“Well? Two things,” Sebastian said. “First, you never use
“You don’t know that.”
“Second,” he said, “We searched those drawers last week.”
Fenris was quiet a moment before sitting back on his heels.
He looked tired as he looked up at Sebastian.
“I need to go back to the coast.”
“What – again? Are you going to overturn every grain of sand
this time? If it was there to begin with, it’s long gone now.” Sebastian sat
down in an armchair, sending up a mountain of dust that quickly had him up and
scurrying to open a window. Fenris remained where he was, shielding the lower
half of his face in the crook of his arm.
“It has to be somewhere,”
Fenris said, glaring, voice muffled.
Sebastian tried three times to speak before the coughing
subsided. “Why not find another one? A bit of red cloth can’t be that hard to
“It wouldn’t be the same.” It was too easy to picture Hawke’s
face, the night he’d tied the favor ‘round his wrist. How those hard planes had
softened, the amber of his eyes so soft, so warm and excited.
“Hawke would understand, I think.”
That didn’t even warrant a response. Hawke had entrusted him
with something that night, something Fenris had never proven worthy of. Losing
the favor only proved it.
In case you’ve ever wondered, there is a bjd that’s supposed to be me. It belongs to my mother.
When I was a little girl, it was almost impossible to find dolls with brown hair and brown eyes and olive skin. In the 1980’s the US was obsessed with blonde hair and blue eyes. If they made a dark haired doll, she either had blue or green eyes and very light pink skin. My mother and grandmother would comb the toy stores in order to find those handful of dolls that weren’t so white. It meant the world to me that they tried so hard to find dolls that looked like me. They even scoured the entire St. Louis area to find a dark haired, dark eyed angel for the christmas tree.
I had white, blonde or red haired, blue-eyed barbies too. And some very lovely african american dolls(there was this fantastic line of them that had the most gorgeous dresses). But the ones that meant the most to me were the ones that looked like me. The ones that looked like my mom.
Now, my grandma has passed away, and Mom lives in the Midwest. Because of my husband and I’s day jobs in the entertainment industry, we live in California. I miss my mom so much, we’re very close. So when I made Lagoon, i made one with olive skin and I found a long dark, brown-black wig and I ordered her dark brown eyes. I made her a special dress and winter coat and handmade shoes and I gave her to my mom for christmas. Mom cried. She admitted to me later that she’d named the doll Sarah, after me, and every morning she would talk to it and she liked to brush her hair and would kiss the doll’s head. I’m glad she likes her.
The sun is finally starting to sink below the jagged skyline of Vegas, casting the alleyways into shadow and relieving some of the stifling Mojave heat. Usually, it’s Donny’s favorite time of day; Freeside doesn’t feel like quite as much of a hot, dusty slum. Today, though, he’s hardly in any condition to enjoy it.
Ever since he’d royally squandered the chance the King had given him on the Strip, he’s been beating himself up about it. Because now K is mad a him, the King disappointed in him, he never even got a chance to try for an audition at the Aces and chances are good he’ll never make it onto the Strip again. And why? Because he’d been infatuated with a Gomorrah girl. One who’d never even liked him to begin with, who’d stolen his jacket and left.
So, Donny’s been dealing with his feelings in the way he always seems to fall back on. Leaning against the wall in a secluded alley, he empties the pockets of his jeans. A couple comic books, some little plastic toys, a comb, a switchblade. All things that belonged to other people, mostly his fellow Kings. His sticky fingers had been busy today.
Donny knows this isn’t any way to deal with his problems. It doesn’t fix anything, it’s much more likely to cause more trouble for him in the long run. Stealing is wrong. Sure, sometimes people steal to eat and Donny can’t bring himself to condemn that, but he hadn’t even wanted any of these things. He’d just taken them because he could, because for a split second the rush of stealing made him forget about what a failure he is.
Though, the switchblade might come in handy. His had been in the pocket of his jacket when Max took it. That, he slips back in his pocket.
The other things are arranged in a messy pile on the ground. Donny settles onto his heels, flicking at his lighter with his thumb till the tiny flame jumps forth. For a moment he just watches it, before setting it to the corner of one of the comic books. The old paper catches quickly, and the flame spreads. The plastic toys look grotesque as they melt, the acidic smell making him wrinkle his nose. He watches his little fire, utterly fascinated.