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! ))
Like for Starter!

OOC: (( Okay, so, I feel like just jumping into something so please like this if you would like a starter! If you have any specific ideas or scenarios you would like to play, feel free to shoot me a message so we can plot! ))

Artist: Fall Out Boy
Track: "Centuries"
Plays: 34,260 plays


For those of you who haven’t been able to download a recording that didn’t have talking in it

#(( hi ))

OOC: (( Would anybody like a starter? I feel like doing something kind of fun or simple, I dunno. ))

Artist: Imagine Dragons
Track: "Warriors"
Plays: 15,602 plays

Warriors | Imagine Dragons

(Source: rtjukebox)



"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 To become an outdated stereotype of masculinity.”

"You know what I always wanted to become?" The goddess asked mischievously, blue eyes twinkling behind her glasses as she raised her newly polished hammer to the light. "A master prankster…but then I realized I already was one."

She gave a pleased if not slightly loud laugh and began tapping her boot against the floor. “I might have a cowboy hat around here somewhere.”


Okay, wow, what the hell was that?!’

Half-Pint’s entire body stiffened at sudden voice shouting in his skull, shoulders broadening and face contorting into an odd expression. He tried to soothe out the shock that ran through his muscles; he knew the voice after all. “H-Hello Joan!” The little man manages to sputter out, trying his best to sound chipper and not at all frightened.

Exhaling a thin breath through his gritted teeth, he turned around with caution…

And almost immediately falls backward at the sight of Joan’s gigantic hammer.

   ”OH DEAR LORD ABOVE WHY DO YOU HAVE A HAMMER!?” He suddenly shouts, hopping back from the woman.

Open RP


You wrinkle your nose a bit at the other two options, turning them over in your head before shaking said head. “Why would I retaliate? Either you’re as unarmed as you appear which would make me into the asshole of the situation or you are armed and I go in unprepared to be injured or possibly killed. If you are armed, it makes more sense to play along until I am safely out of harm’s reach. If you are unarmed, which I am assuming you are to give you the benefit of the doubt, then it’s only polite to forgive and forget. As for police,” you shrug, “I’m not a fan of loud sirens and lots of people. Also, if you are armed then calling the police could be dangerous but this hypothetical explanation is getting long so I’m going to shut up.” And you do. You shut your mouth with a snap and look at the ground hard for a moment before lifting your gaze again.

When you do look at the stranger’s face again, you’re a little surprised to see that he looks confused. Well, maybe not surprised. You did pretty much did just wordvomit nonsense all over the poor guy. He was feeling jumpy enough as it was and you go and talk about police and weapons and shit. Way to go, Strider. Smooth as always. What does truly surprise you is that he comments on your name. “I … suppose not. But then again, I’m not a common guy.” Is it just you or does his tone sound a little cold? Oh, shit, did you insult him somehow?

But whatever, the stranger is finally solving your watch dilemma by reaching for it himself. However, you miscalculate. Instead of just taking the watch and retreating, he captures your hands between both of his, shaking it in what you distantly realize is a friendly handshake. But your nerves, still not completely used to such normal human interaction, freak out. The hair at the nape of your neck stands on end as your arms and shoulders go tense, breath pausing, before you force your lungs to work. It’s okay, it’s fine. This is normal. Normal interaction. But you notice his hands, how they’re dry but warm, the grip is gentle but you think you feel callouses on his skin. Nice hands, you think. “Yes, nice to meet you too—wait. Half-Pint? As in half of a pint?” Huh. You blink for a moment and shrug, lifting your other hand to cover one of his, shaking back. “Pleasure to meet you Half-Pint.” God you hope you’re doing this greeting thing correctly.

As soon as he grasped Dirk’s hand, the little man tried to take in as much information he could; more than he was ever able to before. Funnily, there was something that stuck out quite plainly in Half-Pint’s thoughts. He wasn’t quite sure what. However, as the seconds ticked by and nervousness began to build in the other, it hit him.

His skin was smooth. Untouched by the harsh incandescence of the desert sun. He shakes his head lightly, cautiously pulling his fingers back; one hand gently closing on the watch, the other simply tracing lines on skin.

His skin seems….refreshed, almost.’ He muses, feeling the almost invisible pores on his wrist. ‘Lot of salt. Possible compensation for Hyponatremia?’ His eyes narrow slightly, rampant speculation grabbing hold of his thoughts. But, he’s quickly jarred out of it by the now not-stranger suddenly shaking his hand. Strangely, he didn’t account for that.

And finally, Dirk’s words entered Half-Pint’s consciousness. He had been oblivious to his words and responses before, despite acting as if he was hanging on his every word. Aside from feeling the sudden goosebumps appear on his skin, Half-Pint only had an inkling of the other’s nervousness.

Letting loose a quiet sigh, Half-Pint quietly pulled himself out of his thoughts and flashed the young man a warm smile. “You have a strong grip,” he remarks, tapping his hand and letting out a tiny chuckle; not exactly noticing they weren’t gripping each other in any way. “Not a lot of people do nowadays.” As the words slowly dripped from his lips, he flattened his hand and lithely slipped out of the greeting; watch in his grasp.

He pulled it upwards, only opening his hand briefly to let the sun glance light off its golden shell. He couldn’t help but smile fondly at the simple object, lightly dragging his fingers across the carapace before lightly dropping it into the top right pocket of his jacket. Trying to hold onto the smile as best he can, he turns again to the young man standing in front of him, “Would you like to join me at my home?” he asks, “I am rather tired, I must admit so I assume you are too.” As he speaks, you can practically hear the rusty gears turning in his head as he thought, “Perhaps I could….properly apologize for shoving a gun in your face.”

(Source: halfpintscorner)



mun flops onto the scene


“So you’re made of detritus [from exploded stars]. Get over it. Or better yet, celebrate it. After all, what nobler thought can one cherish than that the universe lives within us all?”

―Neil deGrasse Tyson

These photos are on the shortlist for the Astronomy Photographer of the Year 2014, a competition and exhibition run by the Royal Observatory Greenwich. The winning images will be posted here on September 18.



If you don’t like Electro Swing then you obviously mustn’t have heard it before

Allow me to introduce you


OOC: (( Okey, I’ve got some more headway on my drafts and now i’m sleep.

bye now ))