dear_mun | voicetesting a very annoyed and wordy muse

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voicetesting a very annoyed and wordy muse

Yeah, see, this? This is not cool. You have no intention on playing me. Like, literally none. Not second to none, not even a slight chance in robo-hell kind of none. This is just, completely, totally, no intention at freaking all to play me in any serious way what-so-ever. This is one of those sucky sort of situations, see? Like, you want to have fun and torture me, and I really, really do not want this at all. I literally cannot begin to tell you just how badly I do not want to- okay, no, you know-

Hey, listen, I mean, if you want to actually do something with me? Awesome. Cool. All for it. Just don't send me to some sort of freaking zombiepocalypse or desolate wasteland or multidimensional space-ship because I am practically getting hemorrhoids just thinking about it. My hemorrhoids are having hemorrhoids that's how bad this entire situation is. My dog could be getting hemorrhoids and it is completely all your fault. You are now the person who gave a dog hemorrhoids, so I hope you have fun with that. You... you dog torturer.

Yeah, huh, you like that? You are a bona fide animal cruelty supporter. Just by doing this. Me. Doing this to me, not-

[U G H] So that awesome thing in that screwed up head of yours? That super sweet sort of thing that you can do for me that won't label you as some sort of chihuahua punter? That'd be giving me my car and my girl and letting me go away into the back of your head where it's a little less crazy insane and torture filled.

You need help. Serious, honest to god, psychological help.

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[She was snickering at hemorrhoids and can barely control the giggles now.]

What? You ever have hemorrhoids? They suck, apparently, like they're the greatest kind of- [.... wait.

Why do you have horns.

Why.... why do you have horns and grey skin and-

Oh my god are your eyes white and kind of glow-y?

Oh my god why are your eyes white and glowing and your skin is grey and jesus fucking christ you have horns.]

Holy fu-

[He'll just be over here. Screaming like a five year old girl.]

[ ... Sam? LOOK AT THESE EYES SAM. THESE ARE NOT HUMAN EYES AND THAT IS NOT A HUMAN NOISE THAT COMES FROM HIM BUT IT SURE SOUNDS KIND OF SAD.]

[...well, that's different.]

[She'll just be following behind. You know. The walking way.]

[nononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono

Why can't he just have on nice thing? One simple, little, nice thing that isn't some creepy person with weird eyes and WHY IS THIS A THING AND WHY IS IT HAPPENING TO HIM? Oh, okay, fine, he knows why.

He's Sam Witwicky. He was doomed since he tried to hawk his great-grandfather's stuff to buy a stupid car.]

WHY?! God. Okay, I give up. Aliens and weird, creepy glowing things are just a thing now. [He is trying super hard not to freak out right now, which is why he's just clapping his hands in front of his face and pressing his fingers to hips lips for a quick second] Right I am just... going to bite, because apparently weird is just... I can speak weird, I can do this.

Have you seen a car? Yellow and black? Drives on its own?

Edited 2012-07-16 12:38 (UTC)

[This is Sam, falling on his ass. And continuing to scoot backwards

And kicking a foot at this weird girl as she follows him. Oh god why is this his liiiiiiiiiiiiife.]

Get. Get get get get get get get. Away. Seriously, if you're a brain eater there are a shit ton of better people to chow down on? I barely passed in college. Seriously, I can name about fifty people off the top of my head that'd be way tastier.

[There is a witch watching you.]

...You are... Miserable?

[Wow, rude. He's lucky she knows somebody that's even ruder or she would be seriously annoyed by being kicked. And if she was still alive, really...]

I wasn't aware I looked like a human brain eater. Or was that a wild accusation?

[ Sam. Sam have you not noticed the unfathomable amount of yellow and splashes of black this guy is wearing?

He puts his hands up. Shakes then a little and backs up. No, no. No you've got it wrong. He's not going to hurt you. He'd never hurt you, Sam.

Okay. Well, Bee looks human enough but he's not, he's clearly very much not. And he can't speak but he can get that radio behind you to say something.

He points to his throat, then to the radio.

You have just been Rick rolled, Sam. ]

[He will cling to you - metaphorically - with every fiber of his being right now because oh god finally someone who doesn't look insanely creepy and glows.

Even if the pink hair and red eyes is making him think moderately creepy but hey, he can deal with that right now.]

Miserable? Yes. Yes I am absolutely devastated. Like, crying buckets into the sea of horror and anguish. Fishing at the docks of grief and woe. Taking a freaking bath in melancholy.

Edited (it is 6AM i am so sorry) 2012-07-16 12:48 (UTC)

That's too bad.

[Hey. Hey, Sam. Aren't her skirts interesting? Almost like they're moving on their own!]

No one should feel miserable or hopeless.

[Bee. Bee. Have you not remembered that this is Sam Witwicky you're talking to?

Do you not remember that when Sam is in the middle of a freakout rationality isn't really a thing he falls back on? Did that moment of chasing down his carjacked car on a bike really slip your mind, Bee? DID IT?]

Wh- [Okay, he might have jumped almost a foot in the air at the radio suddenly turning itself on behind him and-]

..... No. [WHAT IS HIS LIFE EVEN] Okay, no. No no no.

Bee?

[ Sam, this is Bumblebee you're talking to. HE HAS FAITH IN YOU, MAN. HE HAS FAITH.

Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

Don't make his smile turn in to a frown, Sam. Just, a nod. And that strange little blipbloop noices he's always made. ]

Edited 2012-07-16 12:56 (UTC)

[Manners mean nothing when there's a weird alien with horns and white eyes following you around]

Oh my god you can talk. [Okay, he's pausing in his desperate escape. Just for a second.] Alright, talking aliens, not something new.

Talking, non robot alien. Either that or you're a figment of my imagination.

... I've gone insane. I've just- yeah, I'm insane. Finally snapped. Okay, I can work with this, I mean... okay, no. No, this is so not okay. You couldn't be Christina Aguilera? Angelina Jolie?

Why is my way overdue mental breakdown coming in the form of a creepy teenaged alien?

Tell me about it. If it's not one thing it's another and now this and she is actually thinking about it like she's not already going insane with things and here I thought I was bad at managing things.

[He is pointing rather excitedly right now]

Yes. Yes yes yes yes. That. That exactly. See, why can't more people see that? If more people could see that things would, I dunno. Be less shitty, for starters.

Do you want me to slap you? I've been told that is very helpful in hysterics, though I've always believed that to be an excuse to inflict bodily harm.

And for the record, yes, I know what hemorrhoids are.

How terrible.

[...Probably getting hard not to notice that her skirt is made of of strange... Cords? Of goop. Or. Who knows what it is. Either way, her skirts aren't entirely holding together now, because she is reacting because hers is a Merciful Nature.]

Do you want to be saved?

[FAITH IS AN ILLOGICAL CONSTRUCT RIGHT NOW.

But oh god you are the best, moth faithful car in the history of everything ever and he is so happy to see you right now even if you're all wrapped up in a human... whatever that is he doesn't even know]

How are you- I mean- Holy shit, Bee you're not... a car. [Wait no]

No, stop. What am I supposed to do with this, huh? This is- what's cool about being a human? And how the hell am I supposed to drive around now? You're my car, Bee, and we had a deal, do you remember? No, of course you don't remember because if you did you would still be a Camaro and not a- I dunno, German? Are you German now? That's like a whole new kind of betrayal I can't even start in on right now.

[There's this thing that people's minds do. They ignore the impossible because they just really don't want to see it. But that, unfortunately, goes right out of the freaking window when skirts start to move on their own and turn into creepy, brain rape-y chords.

Oh god he is having such bad flashbacks to having a robot tongue down his throat right now it's not even funny.]

.... I am.... going to go out on a limb here and say no. No, really, please. Thank you. I uh- I'm just gonna go. Over there.

[WHY IS THIS HIS LIFE]

But I thought you were miserable?

[Go on, Sam. Try to outrun the witch. We'll see how far you get.]

Slap? Yes. Yes, okay. Maybe. No, actually. No. I'm pretty good. Fine, just sort of going into a complete and total alien breakdown but hey, that's just... Tuesday. Monday. Any day that ends in 'y'.

[........................ what]

I'm hallucinating alien proctologists. Right. Okay, I can deal with that.

Calm, I'm calm. Yeah. Under control, everything's under control.

Misery is just a thing, right? I mean, who's really completely miserable? It's not, you know, the end all of things, right? And it passes! Look, totally over. I'm happy, see this? [He's pointing at his face right now, at the smile stretching way too wide at his lips] This is the very epitome of happy. Ecstatic. Jolly. Chipper. Anything and everything you could possibly pick out of the world's most extensive thesaurus. That's me right now.

[pleasedon'tkillhimpleasedon'tkillhimpleasedon'tkillhimpleasedon'tkillhimpleasedon'tkillhim]

[It seems to have worked, because those cords of whatever are spreading back out into a normal skirt. She'll even curtsy!]

I'm sorry, I've been rude! My name is Kriemhild Gretchen, Witch of Salvation.

[Oh thank fucking god he is so relieved right now he could just........ just..............

Take a deep breath, and proceed to scream his head off.

Because that's just what you do when you realize you've narrowly escaped death, right? Right?

Oh, and he's trying to run away.]

[...Give him a moment because mentally? There is a scream of 'OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.' and some sort of fanboy moment that will NEVER. LEAVE. HIS MOUTH. Because OMG. ...Yeah, he's a fan. Though the dirty jokes were pushing it slightly.]

Calm down. Flying off the handle doesn't help with them very often. [aaaaand back to normal just like that. Go figure?]

[Yes. Running from the thing you just pacifies if totally a bright idea.

Those cords are back, and she's chasing you. By "walking" with her cords. And she's giggling.]

[ Hey, hey! He can still drive, okay? You were dead. You. Were. Dead. You think he likes this body, Sam. Really. Really. Come on. He would rather be a car who are you kidding.

NOISE OF DISAPPOINTMENT.

There's a car outside. Just look outside, Sam.

Also, hands on hips. What are you accusing him of. Really.

Cue some movie clip on the radio about someone being dead. It. Is. Heart wrenching. Don't you do this to him. ]

[He has a really strong fight or flight instinct, okay. In the sense that he is so good at running. And running. And running and running and running and-

He chances a look over his shoulder and jesus fucking christ is she walking on her skirt cords.

Is she walking on her skirt cords?!]

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

[Actually, the skirt cords? Are part of her body. She's a witch, she's flexible-ish in form.

Also, still chasing. And she's taking her time, because she doesn't get tired. 8D]

[It is probably a really good thing that you're not flipping out at him, dude. Because Sam has a sort of inflated ego as it is - has he mentioned he got a medal from the President? - and while he would very much like to get his metaphorical feathers stroked that would probably not prove well for his immediate first impression, here.]

Calm down? Oh. Yeah. Because being calm about being potentially shipped off all fed-ex style to some random place is totally going to work out in my favor right now. And she's not even shipping me off first class. Live cargo and I'm gonna be tossed and dented and turned upside down. This will be some serious Madagascar level stuff, here. I will be upside down in the giraffe crate and on my way to freakoid-ville where everything either tries to kill me or kill me.

[Calm is not an option right now :| ]

You're still jumping to conclusions.

How can I best present to you not only my amiable nature while also assuring you I possess no ill intentions?

Edited 2012-07-16 13:49 (UTC)

[Who wouldn't rather be a car? Being a car is all sorts of awesome you really don't even know. Oh. Well. Uh, since you were a car for a while you probably...

You know what, it's full of so much awesome Sam doesn't even know. But he can imagine. and that's the point here. That it's awesome and you apparently gave it up and what the hell Bee]

No, no no no. Stop it. I am not falling for that. That sound? Not allowed. You are not allowed to pull the kicked robot card on me, Bee. Because this is weird and-

[He turns to the radio, confused] Died? What? Who died? And yeah, its-

[Oh, wait, he's talking to the radio. Tuuuuurning back to his not-so-much-a-car robot.]

Who died?

............... Can you not look like a freaky Barbie goes radioactive zombie special?

No. Sorry.

Besides, that seems rather facetious, don't you think?

[SHE'S NOT A TRANSFORMER, SAM]

[HE IS LITERALLY ABOUT TO JUST SOB THIS IS SO FREAKING CREEPY.

And........

Yeah, he's lasting about five minutes of full-out sprinting before he's clutching his side and gasping against the side of a building.

His life. Sucks.]

You really like to talk a lot, don't you?

[okay, this is awkward. well, not as awkward as some of the stuff he's had to go through, but still. awkward. but also sort of awesome? because yeah, two Sams is pretty sweet]

They never listen. Ever. Actually, they usually do the exact opposite of what you want. I think they're hard-wired to be cruel or something. And then they bat their lashes and make these god-awful noises and are like 'I'm going to break my own heart with this, it's awesome!' and you just sit there going 'Lady, you are stupid. Like stupid insane.' And that just makes them even happier.

[speaking from experience, unfortunately]

I was lucky. I had Bee with me when my chick went crazypants.

So, uh ... Zombies? Really?

You know you just signed your own death warrant by coming on here, right?

What’s your malfunction? I have never heard a human talk and complain that much before.

I doubt that talking to your mun that way is going to solve anything.

Talk? No, see, that is not talking. That is listing a variety of complaints in the most useful way possible. That is talking to someone who can't see reason and refusing to give up hope that maybe, just maybe they'll take their head out of their ass and figure it out that not only is this a bad idea? It's stupid.

They are masochistic, sadistic, evil chicks with way too much time on their hands. Seriously. How many other, more productive things could they be doing instead of deciding to make my- our- why are you here.

[No, he's officially derailed.]

It's like talking to a mirror. A really detailed, 3D mirror. How is that- oh. God. [HORRIFIED! ... and kind of squeaking a bit in his voice of o u t r a g e] You're not some mountain ox shape shifting robot, right? Because I AM NOT dealing with that again. I have BOUNDARIES here!

Excuse me? No. No no no no no. I don't know what kind of world you come from, but that's not really how it works. If you have a complaint you don't just sit on your hands and let them do whatever the hell they want because that's just the ticket straight to the grand central station of woe, misery, torture, and crazy.

My mal-? My malfunction? My... malfunction?

Oh, that's rich. Coming from a lipstick wearing robot.

You'd be surprised. She's starting to reconsider just from all the time I'm demanding. It's a strategy.

Lipstick? What is that?

Well then try again a little less aggressively, then you might get what you want faster.

My. I almost forgot just how much you talk, darlin'.

[Hello Sam. Barricade has missed you.]

*Wreck-Gar tilts his head. Unusually chatty, this one, even for a species that invented TV*

And how does that make you feel?

[Sam rubs his face, holding out his hands for Other Sam to shut up a second]

No, I'm not a robot. And I'm not a mirror. Look -- it's complicated, okay? I've seen this shit before and it just defies explanation. But I'm you -- or you're me -- we're the same person. Sort of. You've got all my memories and all that, I promise. I'm just- [exhale] Universes. It's like parallel universes. And in my universe, the chick who sent me to a sex island? Yeah, she was just as bad as yours.

So that's a yes. [ She presses her lips together for a moment. ] I hate to be the bearer of bad news or whatever, but trying to talk sense into your mun? Not going to work. Trust me, I've been trying to do it for years now. Many, many years, and all it's gotten me is tossed into places I never wanted to be in the first place.

[You know, Lennox would find this rather annoying, but after awhile this kid kind of starts to grow on you. He's not sure how, or why, but somehow or another your little stutter speech was something he started to miss.]

Whoa, whoa whoa, easy there, kid. Waaayyy too much TMI, okay?

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voicetesting a very annoyed and wordy muse

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+1 bee

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I SHOULD FEEL BAD FOR THIS?

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dusty fucking muse, bare with me here

AND NO YOU SHOULD NOT

BUT.

dusty muse meets brand new muse. its a musetesting party of AWESOME

I barely remember TF vocab, omg.

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BUT NOTHING. THIS IS SAM'S LIFE. HE SHOULD BE USED TO IT.

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...HE REALLY SHOULD BE, YEAH.

We can fail together man, don't even worry

.... GODDAMNIT

IT'S OKAY SAM, WE STILL LOVE YOU.

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I should be sorry for this... but I'm not. orz

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I AM LAUGHING SO HARD.

never be sorry!!!

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IT IS SIMPLY THE BEST

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