Recent Statuses

15 hrs ago
Current Tatiana Shmaylyuk is a goddess.
1 like
23 hrs ago
Happy birthday to me, I'm going to buy discounted valentines candy and study for my midterm before work tonight. This is a fun birthday. /sarcasm
2 days ago
That relief when you find a super obscure song that you LOVE that you thought you'd never find again because you didn't bookmark it like a dumb dumb.
1 like
3 days ago
I got such a good picture of Torey Krug last night I might just have to print it, frame it, and somehow get it signed by him.
1 like
3 days ago
The Bruins game was awesome! Got plenty of picture of my babe Zdeno Chara.



The Writing Housekeeper

Over 18, Male
Time Zone: EST
Hospital Housekeeper, EMT student
If I had to describe my personality, I'd say I'm a cinnamon roll with a gun. That is all.

Support my art on Kofi! I do simple Commissions, and post regular art on both Twitter and DeviantArt. Paid Commissions will be posted on Kofi and Twitter, @CommanderVolkov.

Check out my Youtube Channel for gaming, and my SoundCloud! If you like Ambient music, Dubstep, or something in between, I've got a couple of tracks there that may spark your interest.

Music I Enjoy

Because what's the world without music?

My all-time favorite band. I've been listening to them since their first EP! They're progressive metal, or "djent" as it's been called these past few years. My favorite album of theirs would have to be Juggernaut: Omega, though my favorite song is Habitual Line-Stepper from their most recent album. I actually met all of the band members up close and personal when I had VIP access at one of their shows in Boston. They are the most down-to-earth and kind men I've ever met. We talked and took pictures together, and it was a wonderful time. They put on an amazing show!

Jared Dines
Jared Dines is a Youtube comedian and musician who makes videos making fun of the metal genre and all of its quirks. He's an incredible musician and vocalist, and came out with two EPs last year, which I have signed copies of!

One of many European bands I adore, Gojira is another prog metal band (notice a theme here?). Their album L'Enfant Sauvage is my favorite, and their song Gift of Guilt is my favorite song.

Yet another prog metal band that's captivated my interest since the dawn of their existence, Tesseract has seen many vocalists (my personal favorite being Ashe O'Hara), but their music is always incredible. My favorite album would have to be Altered State, though my favorite song is Perfection, which has been done by all three of the different vocalists at different points in time. I actually like Elliot Coleman's version of Perfection the most.

Probably one of the more world-wide known bands on this list, Tool has transcended generations of metal lovers. My dad listen to Tool all the time when I was a kid, and I got hooked on it. My favorite album is 10,000 Days, but there are waaay too many good songs of theirs for me to just pick one favorite.

This band formerly had the current vocalist of Tesseract in their lineup, but they now have Eric Emery, who has the most wonderful slightly-raspy vocals I've ever heard. I'm impatiently awaiting the release of their next album, which is slow-coming. I know it will be worth the wait with the songs they've teased us with!

Another band that my dad introduced me to as a child, Mudvayne is a band very dear to my heart. My favorite album would have to be The End of All Things to Come, but I enjoy all of them.

Yet another band my wonderful dad introduced me to as a kid, Static-X is a nostalgia (wisconsin death) trip for me. My favorite album is probably Shadow Zone, but Wisconsin Death Trip and Cannibal are close behind. I really miss these guys. RIP Wayne Static.

If you have any questions about me, feel free to ask! I try to be friendly to everyone.

Most Recent Posts

If there was one thing Junkrat was good at, it was scavenging through wreckage for valuables; after all, he'd risked life and limb to retrieve that omnic fusion core from heavily radiated ruins. He'd do even more for something that could actually keep him alive rather than make him deathly ill.

He managed to sift through debris and find what appeared to be one of the bandit's stashed assortment of goods, crammed inside what looked to be a half-destroyed desk. There were a few bottles of water, some prepackaged food items, and an amount of cash. They'd probably planned to hide it here until they left the blimp, unless they'd planned to make this a more permanently established base. Regardless, it wasn't Junkrat's concern what it was there for, only that it was fit for consumption.

Hearing Roadhog's booming voice with little issue, Junkrat filled the pockets of his shorts with the food and currency, and carried the bottles of water in his arms towards where the pig-tatted goliath was. Making his way up the stairs, his steps an unmistakable thump-clack-thump-clack, Junkrat soon located Roadhog and the captive tourists.

"I guess these dumbasses are our problem now, huh Roadie?"

Usually when Junkrat came across people who weren't supposed to be in the Outback, he made short work of them and stole their belongings. After all, they lived lives of splendor, without the struggles of the Outback natives who had been betrayed by their own government. Yes, Junkrat spited "normal" people. No, he didn't care if they were innocent. If they were stupid enough the venture into a dangerous place, it was their owm fault if they got killed.

"I say we leave 'em to fend for themselves. They're a waste of our time, mate. We take what we need, and they're not needed."
Hello there!

My name's Dewey, but you can call me whatever the hell you want to. I've been RPing for quite a long time, at least since my early teens. I've got some RP ideas I want to throw out into the open, but before I get into that, I just have some basic rules.

1. Please be decently literate. I just ask for decent grammar and spelling, and a minimum post length of one solid paragraph. I tend to prefer more than that, but in some situations it's pointless to type tons of filler just to meet a quota. I can also forgive typos here and there because we're human, but do try to proofread.

2. I ask that my partners be over the age of 18, as my RPs tend to include graphic content of all sorts. Sex, drugs, violence, etc, might all be involved depending on the type of RP. That noted, I have very few limits as far as graphic content, and will RP smut as in-depth as you are comfortable with. I personally RP as any gender and in any pairing.

3. Communicate! If you're going to be gone a while, just let me know. If you're no longer interested in the RP, just say so! I'm friendly, I don't bite unless you ask nicely.

That's all for rules. I'm simple enough, right? If you have any questions, just ask.

Plots and Ideas

Just some genres I enjoy. I'm not opposed to other genres, these are just my favorites.

Dark Themes
Slice of Life
Medical/Hospital Drama

Some of my favorite video games, movies, books, etc. If they have a * next to them, they're ones that I am very interested in doing. Note that the RPs don't have to be set in any of these universes. These are just ones I enjoy.

Star Wars
Mass Effect
League of Legends
Call of Duty*
Dead by Daylight***********

These plots can be for any particular fandom/genre or original world unless explicitly said otherwise. There will be some buzzwords in parentheses to give a basic idea of what each hider contains.

If you have any original ideas that you'd like to do, just let me know and we can work something out! Please PM me if interested. I don't often check back at this thread unless I'm adding or crossing out plots.
It came as no shock that the violence continued through the halls of the blimp, Roadhog shredding his way through the guards who hadn't been blown to bits by Junkrat's handy little grenades. When the pot-bellied man ascended the stairs that appeared to lead to an office, Junkrat took a moment to absorb his surroundings. There were more guards coming from around the corner; this blimp wreckage was massive wasn't it? reaching to the back of his belt, Junkrat procured a crudely-made bear trap. He hated using these things because they couldn't be removed, not because he wanted to get whoever stepped in it out, but because the only way to get it off was to break it. And breaking things meant repairing, which was just boring.

Oh well.

Quickly setting the trap down on the ground where he figured the guards would come rushing around the corner, Junkrat stepped back and hid behind, ironically, a garbage bin. His patience paid off, and as one man rounded the corner, he stepped directly on the center of the trap, the mouth snapping shut with a sickening crunch. The guard screamed and tried to pry his leg free, as did the second guard who followed, but there was no use. The jaws had latched shut, just as designed. Now it'd be impossible to remove without breaking the metal pieces, which usually meant shooting it.

Junkrat sprung forth from his hiding spot, firing a volley of grenades at the panicked guards, who quickly became nothing more than splatters on the walls. He couldn't help but laugh; that had worked perfectly! He'd have to make another trap when he had the time, they were too brilliant. Glancing around once again, the ex-Junker didn't hear any other commotion. He guessed there were likely valuables somewhere around here, particularly food and water. With so many people having been here, there was bound to be something of use.

Entering a nearby room that appeared to be someone's quarters, Junkrat began sifting around the mess to see what he could find. He ignored the noise he could hear upstairs, clearly Roadhog had it handled. It didn't take long for that huge bounty hunter to come back down and squeeze himself through the doorframe.

"Got it, Roadie! I don't like stairs much anyways." Shaking his peg leg at Roadhog for emphasis, Junkrat grinned. He found himself strangely... alright with having him around. As scary as the masked man was, so long as Junk didn't do anything stupid (which was bound to happen), he didn't seem like that much of a threat!
Junkrat didn't say much on the ride to the blimp. He was, for once, taking time to process everything that had just happened. Somehow he'd weaseled his way out of getting killed by Roadhog, and was now partnered up with him to raid some supplies. He wasn't any stranger to working with others, being a Junker and all, but ever since he'd found that omnium fusion core he'd abandoned his former ties to people. What he had was worth more than safety in numbers.

After all, what did an explosives expert need with a bunch of reject Junkers anyways? He could blow shit up and get out unscathed. Well, mostly anyways. A glance down at his peg leg reminded him that things could go very wrong when it came to something as dangerous as explosives. Junkrat nearly hissed in pain at just the thought of what it felt like to lose his leg, and what he'd done to keep himself from dying from it. The explosive had gone off accidentally, and mangled everything from his knee down. There were no doctors, no surgeons, no nothing in the Outback. So he had to fix it himself. He'd used a fragment of metal to sever what was left of the scraps of skin below his knee while the shock kept him from being in agony, then wrapped his thigh with a belt to stop the bleeding. From there, he'd lit a campfire in the dark of the starry Australian night, then shoved his mauled stub into the flames to cauterize it shut.

He'd wound up with an infection and nearly died from the fucking thing, but somehow he pulled through. It wasn't so bad now, but he never wanted to do that shit again. Yeah, life in this wasteland was no piece of cake, but Junkrat still wanted to live. And he'd do anything to live as healthy and prosperous as he could, without having to deal with goddamn suits or omnics.

Looking beside him to Roadhog, Junkrat decided then and there that he'd stick by this bloke for as long as necessary to stay alive. Another accident like the one with his leg, and he didn't know if he could do it again without help. Maybe it was too soon to trust Roadhog to save his life, after all Roadie knew where the fusion core was now. Shit, that was the plan, huh? Roadhog knew where the core was, and was gonna kill Junkrat out here, then go back and get it for himself. Fuck.

Arriving at the wreckage, it didn't take long at all for Roadhog to kill a man. Not that lives meant much out here, but still. The big guy was proving himself to be ruthless without hesitation. Following Roadie to the blimp, Junkrat reached onto his belt and retrieved his handmade grenade launcher, loading it then following up behind the larger man.

"Won't be the first time I've killed for a drop of water." Junkrat mentioned, unable to help the grin on his face as he began firing his launcher at the guards as the came. It was too easy to catch them in the explosions when they didn't realize what was being shot at them. The grenades looked awfully inconspicuous, just as intended!
Junkrat's brows first raised in surprise at the boldness of Roadhog suggesting a fifty-fifty split, then furrowed down as he narrowed his eyes in disdain at the pig-tatted man. What was this big lug trying to pull? Who did he think he was to request fifty percent of the cut, for something Junkrat risked his life to find and protect for weeks! He had no right to it! Zero! None! Zilch!

Stomping up behind Roadhog as he was beckoned over, Junkrat started to protest; "I don't think you know what it took me to find that bloody core, and you don't deserve-", but Junkrat was cut off by that rumbling voice interjecting and telling of a crashed blimp in the middle of nowhere. Well, close enough to nowhere. The Outback was full of nothing ever since the explosion, just endless radiated landscape. But sometimes one could stumble across valuables in the form of wreckage. Or even better- a place to hunker down and stay safe.

Though, not everyone used those locations to live in. Crime was rampant in this lawless wasteland, and it was no surprise to hear that kidnappers used a blimp wreckage to hold tourists hostage. It was no business of Junkrat's to go in and be a hero, and quite honestly he didn't care about those people dumb enough to get caught by a bunch of irradiated thieves. However, the prospect of gear and maybe even something to eat or drink that wasn't radiated was enough to convince Junkrat to go along with this brazen plan.

"Well alright, Roadie, but don't get any smart ideas! No higher than fifty! I'm sure whatever's stored there aside from people is worth a pretty penny. Plus maybe we can find some food. I haven't eaten anything that hasn't made me sick as a dog in days. I'm withering away, mate!"
"Right." Junkrat brought a hand to his chin in thought. "Talk. About the deal. About you getting a cut of whatever I make off of this fusion core."

He had to think wisely on this. He still wasn't sure whether or not he could trust Roadhog completely. Give the big guy too much of a cut, and he'd use that money against him. Offer too little, and it'd probably wind up with the grave of an ex-Junker planted right beside this very Boab tree.

"How about uh, sixty-five to thirty-five split? I get sixty-five percent of the cut. You get thirty-five. It is my fusion core after all. I could have easily just taken it and sold it off and kept the riches for myself, but I'm being nice. Generous even!" He pat the ground over the fusion core. "This baby was no easy find, let me tell you."

It's true, it'd taken a hell of a lot of effort to scrounge that shiny little orb out of the radioactive pit it's been stuck in. The old omnium factory, the one that had blown sky high, was full of valuable materials. But the radiation there was so dangerous hardly anyone bothered.

Well, anyone but Junkrat. He really didn't give a rat's ass if he'd lived or died prior to finding the fusion core. Not like cancer would kill him right away anyways, right? So he'd gone through the rubble with a few fellow Junkers who didn't have a care for their health, and he'd eventually plucked the core from a heap of scrap metal. And subsequently killed the other Junkers, before running like a madman away from the factory.

Having absorbed a more acute dose of radiation than the typical amount received just from being in the Outback itself, his body generally felt like shit for a few weeks. It'd been miserable. He'd spent most of his time hiding in whatever shelter he could, trying to keep food down and get rest. He'd lost some hair, and weight off his already skinny body by the time he started to feel normal again. Well, as normal as one could feel after self-inflicted radiation poisoning.
Junkrat figured the news of an intact fusion core would surprise any wastelander who knew what it was, and he wished he could see Roadhog's face behind his mask to see his expression. Instead, those tinted lenses remained on the lack of a road ahead. Ever the brooding type, eh? Or maybe brooding just wasn't the word to describe Roadhog- maybe a better choice was contemplative. The big guy seemed quiet, or at least short-spoken, and didn't beat around the bush when he did talk.

As they neared a large vertical rock sticking out of a dried up ravine, Junkrat tapped Roadhog's arm. "Hang a right around this rock. Through the ditch. See the Boab with the two trunks to the northwest? Stop at that tree." He instructed, hoping his memory served him right. He'd buried the fusion core somewhere around that tree. It'd been the dead of night so his sense of direction had been skewed, but he was almost certain it was this particular tree.

Once Roadhog brought the chopper to a halt nearby the boab tree, Junkrat hastily scrambled out, on the hunt for his precious fusion core. He looked around at the ground, humming in thought. "It's around here somewhere, mate. I swear. It's buried in the ground by this tree, just gotta remember which side."

Inspecting the dry dirt as he paced around the tree, he came to a spot where it looked like the ground had been disturbed. Kneeling down, Junkrat used his bare hands to dig down and tear the soil up. Sure enough, he'd found his treasure about twelve inches below the surface.

Reaching down with both hands, a wicked grin on his face, he took the round metallic object in his hands. There was a faint yellow glow from the pit of the center of the steel orb, signaling that indeed, it still had power. Or at least he assumed that's what it meant. Stuff that glowed was either radioactive or energized. He liked to think he wasn't holding fistfuls of radiation at the moment.

"Here it is... A beaut', am I right?" He asked, turning to Roadhog. "This is the whole reason blokes have been hunting me down. Funny ain't it? This little thing causing all these problems?"

Junkrat almost laughed, but he was certain that would have gotten him another knot on the skull. It was such a fitting name for the massive, pig-tatted man. Question was, was the tattoo the inspiration for the name, or was it the other way around? He supposed he could ask at a later time if he didn't wind up dead by the end of his dealings with the gargantuan bounty hunter.

Looking over to Roadhog as he asked about the treasure, Junkrat couldn't help but grin. It excited him to talk about his amazing find, his lucky break, his treasure that made him more valuable than anything else in this god-forsaken wasteland. Since he really had no choice but to tell the hog what he wanted to know, otherwise the information would probably be beaten out of him, the ex-Junker started.

"Imagine something so powerful that even suits outside the Outback would envy it. Something that makes me more important than even the Junker Queen herself. What I found is a source of power that she would use to keep herself on her throne permanently. That's what I have, and that's what everyone wants. If they get their hands on it, they could kick the Junker Queen out, or they could sell it to the suits for more money than anyone could imagine. And I can imagine a lot of money, mate."

Turning his head forward, looking at the terrain around them to make sure they were heading the right direction, Junkrat smirked as he finished speaking, hardly able to contain his smugness.

"I found an Omnium fusion core."
Junkrat curiously turned his head as he too heard the noises outside. There were certainly not many animals left in the Outback, so it was unlikely that a dingo or anything of the sort would be rummaging around outside. Watching his captor get up and stand by the door, the battered Junker had no choice but to sit and wait to see if it was a threat. Damn it, he'd really fucked this up. He didn't want to have to share the treasure with anyone, especially not someone who slammed his head into a countertop. He'd have a lump on his balding head for weeks, he was sure. He was lucky to have some hair left despite all the radiation and explosives he'd gone through, but that wasn't enough to protect him from much of anything hitting his head. Hell, none of his clothes were suited for protection. Most of the time he didn't need it, considering lobbing explosives from a distance and setting traps was his expertise. But close combat wasn't his specialty. Maybe he deserved that lump. A reminder that he should set more traps next time he decided to hunker down.

The tattooed brute tossed a tin can towards Junkrat, and in quick response to the noise, two scrappy-looking bounty hunters entered the room, excited in their luck and apparent triumph. Junkrat couldn't help but laugh a little, shaking his head. "Big mistake, mates."

It was almost as soon as the words left his mouth that the gargantuan man who'd somehow yet to be noticed despite his size, sprang into action, instantly mortally wounding one of the poor blokes. While that one collapsed to the floor next to Junkrat, bleeding profusely, the other was promptly slammed into that same counter and held tightly by the throat. Junkrat almost wanted to laugh; hey, that's my countertop, he hit my head on it first!

Listening closely to the brief conversation between the choking man and the pig-bellied hunter, the Junker found no surprise that the Queen was involved. She was tied up in everything in the Outback, especially if it had to do with notable people like Junkrat himself. Okay, maybe he wasn't very notable until he'd found the treasure, but still! He was important enough to send people to their deaths for now. A grim thought, but this whole Outback was worse than a couple of dead bounty hunters.

Hearing a stomach-churning crack come from the neck of the subdued guy, the room was now filled with two dead men and two living ones. Junkrat half expected when he was approached by his captor to be slugged in the face or something, but instead, those massive hands reached for the cuffs and undid them from his wrists. Standing up now, the confused Junker rubbed his sore head as he followed the man out to his motorcycle. It even had a sidecar.

"Well..." he muttered, before his arm was harshly grabbed and a threat was snarled into his face. Sufficiently convinced, Junkrat nodded quickly before he was let go. "Right, well, head north from here and I'll tell you what directions to take, mate."

"What's your name anyways?"
As Junkrat's head was smashed into the counter, his vision went blurry for a few moments, and the pain was enough to send him to the floor. He felt consciousness wavering, but stayed awake. He dared not try to scurry away; even if he could get to his feet and stumble away, he'd just get hooked again. This hog sure as hell didn't care if his bounty came back in good shape. Alive, even if barely, was usually the only condition that mattered. The tattooed bloke's heavy steps left the room for only a moment before lumbering back. Before Junkrat knew it, his arm was yanked to the side and cuffed to a wooden pole. Now sitting upright on the cold floor, the ex-Junker had a moment to shake off that blow to the head.

He held his free hand over his now-swollen scalp, staring at the floor, thinking on what he was going to do now that he was most definitely not getting away. Not easily anyways. Maybe he could convince the big lug to let him go so he could get the treasure and bring it back to him? No, he'd have to be an absolute dumbass for that to work, and this round-bellied brute had more smarts to him than it looked like he would.


Junkrat shoot his head slightly, furrowing his brow in frustration. His head hurt so damn bad, he couldn't think of a plan. He couldn't make a way out of captivity so quickly. There were some very extreme thoughts that came to mind; breaking his own hand to escape the cuffs, or blowing his arm off, or chewing through the wooden pole, or... Nothing practical. Those would be too obvious, and even more painful than the bump on his head. Maybe not the chewing through the wood one, but it wasn't like his teeth were all totally secure in his skull anymore. There weren't exactly dentists in the Outback.

When the pig-tatted man returned to the room with wood scraps and lit a fire to keep them warm, Junkrat looked up to him with a confused look. What, he wasn't just gonna leave him here in the cold until morning? What bounty hunter gave that much of a fuck about his bounty? Then, the big guy asked a question that was to be expected.

"Not here." Junkrat answered. "Ya think I'm dumb enough to keep it on me, mate? I may have a few screws loose, but I know better than to keep something that valuable with me when people are looking for it."
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