gentofpipes:

chainedcakemaker started following you

He stared hard at the other man for a moment.  He was the very mirror image of Egbert himself!  In fact, if he wasn’t so sure this was an aluternate of himself, he would say this was his brother.  He slowly extends his hand to shake, smiling at the other self.

At first Mr. Egbert thought that the person outside his cell was a trick pulled by the condesce (and a cruel one at that) to show him clean shaven till he realized that more then likely it was just that this was an alternate him, and the guards were stupid so let yet another person in. He would have shook the hand offered to him, but due to the fact that breaking these chains at this point in time would be impractical and help no one in the long run he just jangled them as if to show why he sadly could not accept his alternates hand.

bloodsuckingstrider:

chainedcakemaker started following you

sup mr e-

i

….

what happened to you?

Mr Egbert was not sure why or how this young chap was in the torture block, but then again at the same time he knew it wasn’t exactly hard as the guards are absolutely atrocious and will let anyone in especially if they had a nice bottom. Of course Mr Egbert didn’t get that much of a look at him and was too much of a gentleman to look at the young mans bottom anyhow to check if this was why. 

He decided to greet the young chap with a friendly wave, which looked kinda…dark, seeing as the man giving it was in a very worse for wear state. Something about this boy seemed off, he knew him, of that he was certain, but he wasn’t sure he knew him.

homestuckshippingnames:

chainedcakemaker: I know the name isn’t in Impact but Comic sans just felt right for this ship, y’know? (I understand entirely. -b)

hatefucking:

i want to follow you all

thecagedbirddreams:

((That means that the timeline is the same but we are changing some things to have been true all along or just to be different.

In my case, bird dave has scars from a whip all across his back. They were there before he got taken. The other change is that his shoulder is healed enough that he can move the arm, and its no longer in a sling, just really stiff.))

((With Dad, he’s, well, alive again. He’s still a prisoner, and has no desire to escape yet. He feels he is more useful in the prison, so he stay’s there.))

downwiththebloodybigseawitch:

chainedcakemaker:

downwiththebloodybigseawitch:

=> You are indeed trapped. You’re stuck under a pile of rubble and there’s fire all around you. The smoke is choking you with every shaky breath and you’re fairly certain you’ve got a broken leg, judging from the pain coming from your lower half. You try to call for help, but you can barely raise your voice above a normal volume, and you can’t speak anyway without coughing.

You’re going to die here and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You suddenly feel a a sudden release as the rubble is slowly lifted then non other then your own father. Sure, he was on fire, but his son was at stake. Nothing was more important right now.

You look up when the rubble is lifted off you, and upon seeing your dad, you let out something close to a joyful noise, which is quickly choked off by seeing the burns all over him.

“Dad, what are you doing?” You try to drag yourself forward a little, but your leg prevents much movement, sending white sparks across your vision. “Get out of here!”

He held the rubble proudly above his head…before falling backward, a sickening crunch being heard. This was fine, nothing but a flesh wound. A flesh wound that would lead to his, now know for a while, demise. Or at least in the rawest of senses. With the little strengh he had left, he beckond his son over.

downwiththebloodybigseawitch:

=> You are indeed trapped. You’re stuck under a pile of rubble and there’s fire all around you. The smoke is choking you with every shaky breath and you’re fairly certain you’ve got a broken leg, judging from the pain coming from your lower half. You try to call for help, but you can barely raise your voice above a normal volume, and you can’t speak anyway without coughing.

You’re going to die here and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You suddenly feel a a sudden release as the rubble is slowly lifted then non other then your own father. Sure, he was on fire, but his son was at stake. Nothing was more important right now.

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

Mr Egbert had been being a good prisoner lately, and lying back letter whatever happen happen.

It was highly boring.

He began to whistle a pleasant little tune he would often hear coming from John’s TV when he watched that movie with the rugged long haired gentalman and the plane full of ruffians.

It was a nice tune.

You hear a noise coming from nearby. It sounds… like a whistle. Taking a deep breath and hoping that it won’t be another psycho, you decide to call out.

Hell0? Who’s there?

You wince a little because talking makes the stitched up cuts around your mouth hurt, but you ignore it and listen, waiting for a response.

He stops upon hearing the lass’s voice. Hmm….He should check it out. He opened his Cell, and walked to the rough aproximation of where her’s was. Upon spotting her he gave her a cheery wave.

You look over the man with confusion. You have never seen a creature that looks like him. You give a small wave of your own

Hell0. Who are you?

Upon seeing the lass’s stitches he found himself frowning. Oh nononono, that would not do. Plus it looked painful to boot. He did pulled opened her bars and steped in, and with a flurry of Babasol and razors cut the stitches open again, freeing her mouth. He then gives the lass a friendly smile.

You scramble to you feet, you hand going to the now-bleeding cuts on your mouth.

Why w0uld you d0 that?!

Sure, the stitches are awkward and strange, but they keep the cuts from bleeding. And they don’t keep your mouth closed or anything. You press against the wall, wanting to fight, but not having anything to fight with.

((Oops, i fucked up there ^^;))

Ah. Oops. In the lighting it looked like it really was keeping her mouth closed. He could fix this…Lets see…Babasol Clean….Babasol firey….AHA! Babasol numb. He put his hand up to show he was not an enemy, and sprayed the numbing spray onto her face. He took a nice, cotten thread from his shirt, and using a makeshift needle sowed the cuts back up, this time in a less…hapazard manner. And hopefully a manner that wouldn’t hurt as much.

You stay still as he sews up the cut again, very confused. You have no idea who this person is or what his intentions are. When he is done, you feel your mouth and smile at the lack of pain.

Y0u still have not t0ld me who y0u are.

In response he just smiles, tipping his hat as a reply. He stands up and goes to the bent bars to leave, and then looks back to the Lass, his eyes asking “Do you want it left open?” the way someone would do if they were turning to leave a cafe. He was glad to have done some good today, as a proper gentalman must do.

You look at the bars, and then back at him.

Depends. Will I be able t0 escape bef0re being captured again?

Escape? How did she mean? He looked at her to confused, and used his hand to motion to his shaved face. Plus there was the fact it makes toilet breaks a lot easier. He thought it was time to break his silence, and he walked back, kneeling by her.

“Just because the door’s open doesn’t mean you need to escape lassie. Sometimes lifes easier when ya’ can come and go.”

He smiled,patted her on the head, and left.

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

Mr Egbert had been being a good prisoner lately, and lying back letter whatever happen happen.

It was highly boring.

He began to whistle a pleasant little tune he would often hear coming from John’s TV when he watched that movie with the rugged long haired gentalman and the plane full of ruffians.

It was a nice tune.

You hear a noise coming from nearby. It sounds… like a whistle. Taking a deep breath and hoping that it won’t be another psycho, you decide to call out.

Hell0? Who’s there?

You wince a little because talking makes the stitched up cuts around your mouth hurt, but you ignore it and listen, waiting for a response.

He stops upon hearing the lass’s voice. Hmm….He should check it out. He opened his Cell, and walked to the rough aproximation of where her’s was. Upon spotting her he gave her a cheery wave.

You look over the man with confusion. You have never seen a creature that looks like him. You give a small wave of your own

Hell0. Who are you?

Upon seeing the lass’s stitches he found himself frowning. Oh nononono, that would not do. Plus it looked painful to boot. He did pulled opened her bars and steped in, and with a flurry of Babasol and razors cut the stitches open again, freeing her mouth. He then gives the lass a friendly smile.

You scramble to you feet, you hand going to the now-bleeding cuts on your mouth.

Why w0uld you d0 that?!

Sure, the stitches are awkward and strange, but they keep the cuts from bleeding. And they don’t keep your mouth closed or anything. You press against the wall, wanting to fight, but not having anything to fight with.

((Oops, i fucked up there ^^;))

Ah. Oops. In the lighting it looked like it really was keeping her mouth closed. He could fix this…Lets see…Babasol Clean….Babasol firey….AHA! Babasol numb. He put his hand up to show he was not an enemy, and sprayed the numbing spray onto her face. He took a nice, cotten thread from his shirt, and using a makeshift needle sowed the cuts back up, this time in a less…hapazard manner. And hopefully a manner that wouldn’t hurt as much.

You stay still as he sews up the cut again, very confused. You have no idea who this person is or what his intentions are. When he is done, you feel your mouth and smile at the lack of pain.

Y0u still have not t0ld me who y0u are.

In response he just smiles, tipping his hat as a reply. He stands up and goes to the bent bars to leave, and then looks back to the Lass, his eyes asking “Do you want it left open?” the way someone would do if they were turning to leave a cafe. He was glad to have done some good today, as a proper gentalman must do.

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

outofthefireintothefryingpan:

chainedcakemaker:

Mr Egbert had been being a good prisoner lately, and lying back letter whatever happen happen.

It was highly boring.

He began to whistle a pleasant little tune he would often hear coming from John’s TV when he watched that movie with the rugged long haired gentalman and the plane full of ruffians.

It was a nice tune.

You hear a noise coming from nearby. It sounds… like a whistle. Taking a deep breath and hoping that it won’t be another psycho, you decide to call out.

Hell0? Who’s there?

You wince a little because talking makes the stitched up cuts around your mouth hurt, but you ignore it and listen, waiting for a response.

He stops upon hearing the lass’s voice. Hmm….He should check it out. He opened his Cell, and walked to the rough aproximation of where her’s was. Upon spotting her he gave her a cheery wave.

You look over the man with confusion. You have never seen a creature that looks like him. You give a small wave of your own

Hell0. Who are you?

Upon seeing the lass’s stitches he found himself frowning. Oh nononono, that would not do. Plus it looked painful to boot. He did pulled opened her bars and steped in, and with a flurry of Babasol and razors cut the stitches open again, freeing her mouth. He then gives the lass a friendly smile.

You scramble to you feet, you hand going to the now-bleeding cuts on your mouth.

Why w0uld you d0 that?!

Sure, the stitches are awkward and strange, but they keep the cuts from bleeding. And they don’t keep your mouth closed or anything. You press against the wall, wanting to fight, but not having anything to fight with.

((Oops, i fucked up there ^^;))

Ah. Oops. In the lighting it looked like it really was keeping her mouth closed. He could fix this…Lets see…Babasol Clean….Babasol firey….AHA! Babasol numb. He put his hand up to show he was not an enemy, and sprayed the numbing spray onto her face. He took a nice, cotten thread from his shirt, and using a makeshift needle sowed the cuts back up, this time in a less…hapazard manner. And hopefully a manner that wouldn’t hurt as much.