Welcome Home....
Salve! My name is Half-Pint. I am a...fellow, hailing from the planet Gallifrey. I travel around the Universe in my TARDIS Mk. II. Welcome to my world.

(( This is an RP blog for a Doctor Who OC. If you want to RP, feel free to ask! I roleplay with any fandom, OC's included. My pesterchum handle is helpfulProcrastination. ))

Current M!A Status: None (( And accepting! ))

OOC: (( You know, I think I’m gonna head over to my personal account for a bit. I’m kinda having bad case of writer’s block and I just feel I need to hop over there for a bit.

Feel free to message me if you’d like the url!

Ta-Ta for now! ))


You must promise me one thing: that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.

Rare Words


acosmist - One who believes that nothing exists
paralian - A person who lives near the sea
aureate - Pertaining to the fancy or flowery words used by poets 
dwale - To wander about deliriously
sabaism - The worship of stars
dysphoria - An unwell feeling
aubade - A love song which is sung at dawn
eumoirous - Happiness due to being honest and wholesome
mimp - To speak in a prissy manner, usually with pursed lips

(Source: milkthistles)

Plays: 9 plays

OOC: (( So yeah, I have nothing better to do with my time. Not like I have drafts or anyfin’ )) caution: loud

there are some people i see on my dash and i wanna rp with them so bad but i am just like 


(Source: thesekinkyfucks)



Nuclear test 15 megatons, Nevada, 1953, various angles.


(Source: surprisecondom)

Closed RP w/Halfpintscorner




It took some time for Karket’s words to register in the little man’s mind, but he was grateful. He turned his head to the side, lips pursed in preparation for a show of thanks. However, the trail of charred pinions was obvious evidence.

He couldn’t help but let his face fall a bit, a tiny frown appearing in place of pained expressions. “I’ll keep it clean.” he whispers to himself, casting his gaze to the bowl of sludge betwixt his legs. Raising his hand up, he absentmindedly rubbed his blackened fingers together. “The foul smell makes it obvious, doesn’t it?”
     ’Well, I had thought it needn’t be clarified.’ a familiar presence remarked. “It’s been obvious what it was, but I’m curious as to how this is my body’s first instinct.” He wipes the slime off on his olive jacket. “I had thought that was your job.”

Oddly enough, this was not too strange for Half-Pint. No matter where he embarked, he never didn’t talk to himself. It was a practice that brought him clarity at times; though it never seemed normal to passersby. 

"Who ya talking too?" She asks in a sarcastic tone while trotting down the creaky wooden steps, her wings casually spread out a little as she makes her way too him.


Without any warning she takes the hand she recently bandaged up, gently unwrapping it so she could apply the gel.

"This might hurt a bit.." She whispers as she squeezes a big glob of it onto the irritated skin around his wrist, gently rubbing it around before wrapping his hand back up. She was sure that there weren’t any more places that he had been burned too badly, and if so it would probably be a waste to use the gel on them, so far the one on his hand seemed to be the worst so that should do for now.

Or not, probably better to ask just in case. She doesn’t want him to be in pain right?

"Is there any other major burns or is that it?"


The sudden cropping up of his host’s voice sent shivers up the little man’s spine; his entire body tensing up once again. In hindsight, he should’ve heard her descending the steps and cut his conversation short before he got caught…

Relaxing his straining muscles, he let a tiny sigh escape his lips; casting his thoughts of improving technique to the back of his mind. Keeping his head down, he found no reason to answer her obvious sardonic inquiry. His eyes tried their best to keep on her, watching for any injuries to her person.

"It’s strange," he unknowingly whispered, "I feel as though I’ve been here before."

You know, I’m honestly surprised how often you get yourself into situations like this.’ The sudden statement from his thought was enough to drive Half-Pint away from his host; her tending to burns seeming to hardly impress the little man.

Twice now you’ve been saved from certain death! Twice now you’ve been taken care of by some random stranger, a woman no less! Oh, god knows how many times that damned frenchie saved you.’

Half-Pint’s expression immediately hardened, a horrible scowl replacing his look of quiet thought. His empty hand coiled into a tightly bawled fist, unkempt nails digging sharply into his palm. As he felt the fingers of his host slowly drift off his numbing burns, he couldn’t help but let out a tiny growl.




Okay, this is weird. Even by her standards.’ Half-Pint quietly lurched forward, keeping eyes on his companion. ‘Face red, frantic speech, nervous te-‘ With his next step forward, the little man placed a hand on his face, performing an all too familiar motion to silence his thoughts. Strands of hair falling to the side of cheeks, Half-Pint coughed quietly. “Well, I suppose that’d be true. About the T.V-I, er, mean the television.” He tried his best to play it “cool”, albeit every time he tries this technique, its meaning suddenly changes.

In this case, he quickly hops over to the behind of couch, resting his elbow on the top. “I don’t doubt that everything is fine. You just seem a little nervous is all.” He lowered his head down towards hers, eyes running their way up and down her frame. “You know, it’s okay if you were watching….uhm….” he coughs again, somewhat quieter, before gesturing to the pillow on her lap. “I mean, it’s perfectly fine, but…I really don’t wanna barge in on that type of situation.”


Oh good god. This isn’t gonna be fun.


"I was not watching porn, that would be kinda dumb for me to just watch it down here, when you’re still awake, in the middle of the day. That’s just asking for trouble." You sigh, shifting in your seat to look over at him.

"I’m nervous because I’m.." Fuck, how are you gonna say this and still keep some sort of dignity? "I’m having a bit of a personal problem here." You glance down at the pillow, if your pants didn’t have a stain in them now you’d be pretty surprised. "I don’t know what caused it but It’s there and I.. yeah." Knowing him, he’s not gonna understand anything you just said.

Half-Pint raises his finger up as if to signal his companion that he was about to talk, but quietly lowers it. ‘Her logic is sound. No excuses or frantic exchanges of thought.’ He couldn’t help but smile a bit at her composure. It was certainly admirable. Quietly leaning closer to her, he cocks his head to the side as she begins her answering again.

However, his look of curiosity quickly changes to a look of scrutiny and confusion, as it so often does. 'And there it goes again. Cold and blatant reason with a splash of sarcasm exchanged for nervous dancing….' Slowly raising a hand to his chin, the little man’s eyes narrowed.

'Wait a minute, she just-' And with an ear splitting snap of his fingers, it hits him. “Ohhhh, why didn’t you say so earlier?!” He says with a sudden burst of volume, “I didn’t know troll’s could menstruate, but it’s good that I learned now.” A simple smile gracing his face, Half-Pint lifts his head up from the couch. “Call it ‘Time Lord’s Intuition’ or what have you, but I had a feeling!” He says without an ounce of self-awareness; a not-so-light tap on Karket’s shoulder punctuating his smug statement. He just had to gloat.

"You know, I’ve always wanted to become a gunslinger of sorts." Half-Pint says quietly, "Being able to wander the American Frontier with nothing but a revolver and a horse to keep me company."

He lets loose a wistful sigh as he idly fiddles with his fingers, “Ah yes. To become an outdated stereotype of masculinity.”



What if? #34

what if everyone at marvel was on drugs?

I feel like I want to have been a writer on these issues.