Robbie The Zombie - Blog Posts

Okay, this idea just came into my head and now it's like a plague that haunts my mind.

Imagine

The "Ipliers" and the "jse"'s are somehow all in one meeting place, it's a very rare moment where they are all there to discuss business or something else that is extremely important. One of them had brought snacks for everyone else (probably one of the "jse"'s), and they knew how much Mark likes Talkies. So they brought enough for all of the "Ipliers", so while everyone is talking business. They are also eating, so you can imagine the look of disgust and horror at the sight of all of the "Ipliers" 'eating' Talkies in the most horrific way.

The "Ipliers" have no idea why they are freaking out, so while they are trying to communicate every few seconds you can hear/see a Talkie dropping to the table. At this point, the "jse"'s are practically in TEARS. They end up just giving the "Ipliers" whatever they wanted, just so they would STOP and go away.

The septic boys in all their body less glory

dumb sketches at school :ь

Henrik walking in the house: I'm ho- VHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED

(Marvin helping Anti who is laying on the floor after falling through the ceiling. Chase laughing at Jackie after pulling a prank on him. Jameson and Robbie just doing what they do)

Henrik: Vhy did you guys trash this place

Marvin: You left us unsupervised

Henrik: Chase I left you incharge

Chase: I was left unsupervised

I've got a lil headcanon that Robbie couldn't go too far from his grave before meeting the egos, but he doesn't mind all that much during spring

Rebloging my other blog, because this is hilarious!

Too much Jse!!!

Anonymous: Robbie and his family just having a good time?

I hope you don’t mind that I took a seasonal theme with this one! I haven’t really written anything with the egos and Halloween yet, so I had to! I hope that you enjoy! :)

“Trick-Treat”

“Marv! Marv!” The zombie shuffled along as fast as he could, dull eyes lit with excitement as he carried a drawing in his hands.

The magician glanced up from his desk a smile immediately coming to his face when he saw the zombie. “What is it, Robbie? Did you make me something?”

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Robbie and Friends

///Three months late, but here we are! I promised @sambloom that I would write her a Robbie oneshot for the beautiful art that she drew for me (that I didn’t even ask for, she just went and made it! :’) I’m a bit late, but this is it! ((It turned out pretty angsty, but I tried to lighten it with some precious familial egos. I hope you like it, and thank you again!!! :D ///

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Here is the second installment to my Robbie origin story, enjoy! WARNING: prepare for adorable, cutesy zomboi moments

“Light Bulb”

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Well, I’ve officially fallen in love with these characters. I plan to do more with them in the future, so be on the lookout!  Reblogs are always welcome, btw! 

“First Impressions are…Something”

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When I was wide awake this morning, I started thinking about what my own version of Robbie would be like. This list is the result:

Innocent boi - soft and gentle

He soft, but he attac (don’t hurt his family or anyone small and helpless)

“Mouth not make words…right”

Clumsy, but he tries (he has two left feet and his grip isn’t that great)

He’s surprisingly great at coloring and is always cautious when holding small, fragile animals

He exists because Marvin was playing around with an old spell book in a cemetery (gosh dang it Marvin). He tried to hide Robbie, but the curious zombie couldn’t help but shuffle out of his bedroom when the other egos were making so much noise.

Anti was silent and didn’t say much when they were introduced, but he was the first to offer when he needed a place to sleep (he quickly decided that the poor zombie needed a big brother mentor to teach him.

He likes soft things and small places (he hides sometimes to find comfort), but he is terrified of absolute darkness - it reminds him of being trapped underground.

He’s the shortest, but he insists that’s only because he can’t really stand without slouching (sure Jan…)

He is a SASSY bugger when he wants to be.

Marvin and Chase help him improve his communication beyond grunts and ‘yes’ and ‘no’

Anti and Schneep work with him on his motor skills (Schneep mainly helps him with his walking, while Anti plays catch and little games with him)

Jameson, bless his heart, was the one that taught Robbie how to properly use eating utensils. (”Robbie don’t need…fork” *proceeds to shovel food with his hands* Jameson about had a heart attack)

So yeah, that’s what I came up with. I might start writing about him, I don’t know

While I was sitting here typing up my headcanons for Robbie, I decided that I was in the mood for writing about him. So here is my own ‘origin story’ for the zomboi.

“Necro-mistake-cy”

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Hey you!

Yeah, you!

I’m working on a special project for our dear boy Schneep’s birthday!

Now, here’s where it gets weird-

If you could date any of the egos, which one, and where would you like to go on a date?

Sorry for how vague this is, but no spoilers for this project. I want it to be a super cool surprise, hence me working on it a month ahead of time.

Thanks!!

Update on the drawings! I really had to finish them so here you go!

Also, minor blood warning/injury in the next two photos since I felt that the two first drawings were lacking a little color for both the neck slit as well on the finger on the second image.

How about anti and robbie fusion? 👀👀 I want my boi robbie to be in a fusion–

Hmm what should we name this boy? AntiZombi? GlitchZombie? AntiRob? Anyway, this poor guy is falling apart at the seams. The fact that they keep picking at their sutures doesn’t help. Needs to stay away from knives because they might “accidentally” cut all the sutures and lose their legs again. They’re always tired and they speak in grunts. If they really needed to, they talk slowly and with a slur. One eye is a very light green, the other is sewn shut. Who knows what’s under there. They wear long sleeved black shirts because it’s easier to hide the blood. Carnivorous sloth

Couldnt help myself so here you go-

Also another idea is that they get rid of their sutures because they're seeking for attention. They dont feel that much pain from damaging the sutures so they also might do it out of boredom plus it gets him more attention from the others. Especially Henrik. The suture that always gets damaged the most is the one at their neck, Henrik always has to come and try to fix it but his actions are always for nothing when Henrik takes his eyes off of him for a second, they are back at getting rid of it. On the other hand, they never touch the ones at their face for unknown reasons.

All the pants they own are ripped by how many times they try and get rid of the sutures on their legs. If you gave him a new pair of pants it'll probably last a few minutes before they tear it.

Also, if they are too overwhelmed they might twitch a lot and let out long and deep grunts or say one word multiple times in a slur. To calm themselves they'll probably go sleep on something that calms then.

They'll probably sleep on anything and everything, and, if you're not careful, they'll cling onto you and wont let you go until they wake up. So, if they catch you and you were planning to do work, you'll have to leave it for the next day.

And if you're not paying attention, he'll bite your finger off–

How about anti and robbie fusion? 👀👀 I want my boi robbie to be in a fusion–

Hmm what should we name this boy? AntiZombi? GlitchZombie? AntiRob? Anyway, this poor guy is falling apart at the seams. The fact that they keep picking at their sutures doesn’t help. Needs to stay away from knives because they might “accidentally” cut all the sutures and lose their legs again. They’re always tired and they speak in grunts. If they really needed to, they talk slowly and with a slur. One eye is a very light green, the other is sewn shut. Who knows what’s under there. They wear long sleeved black shirts because it’s easier to hide the blood. Carnivorous sloth

Wandering (A Robbie the Zombie drabble). Feat. Post-Apocalypse Robin!

A/N: I’ve never written Robbie in his own story before, but he’s a sweetheart and I thought I’d give it a try, and also try to explain his name, maybe. Enjoy!

He doesn't know how he died. All he knows is that one day, he woke up, and he was staring at the open blue sky. He sat up, looked around at the lonely street he was on, stood slowly, and wandered off. That's what he does best; he wanders. He's not much for deep thought, and trying to plan out where you're going, trying to find things or do things that take a long time, they take too much of his energy. But wandering? It lets him enjoy the quiet. Sunshine in a forest. An empty highway at night. A beach in the off season. Well, he supposed every season was the off season now.

He doesn't remember who he was before he died. Doesn't even know if he had a name, not that there's anyone to call him by it anyway. He supposes he was young; the glances he's gotten of his reflection make him think twenties, but he could've been in his thirties. A little bit of facial hair is eternally stuck at the same length on his face, a short scruffy beard and mustache, and two bushy eyebrows that've all turned an ashy brown with death. Pale, grey skin sits tight over a smaller, fairly slim frame. Grey eyes stare at the grey-scale world through a thin white film (it doesn't affect his vision that much). A striped white and black shirt and black jeans cover him with relative modesty, though they’re ripped and dirtied with who knew what. No shoes. It’s not too bad, but he is easily pleased. Something he very much likes about the way he looks, however, is that he's got a mop of unruly, electric purple hair on the top of his head. It's the only bit of bright color in his appearance, and he feels like maybe Living-him would've liked that. He sometimes wonders who Living-him was. What did he do for a living? He isn't particularly muscular, or big, so nothing sporty or physical. His clothes are very casual. Had he worked from home? Been off-duty when he died? He doesn't know.

He discovers he's in Brighton, and that he can read still (though not very quickly), when he finds a yellowing newspaper on a bench by the pebbly beach. An old copy of the local news, warning about the deadly outbreak of something, and somewhere testing nuclear weapons, and other sad things. He puts it down again and walks away. He's glad he remembers where Brighton is, and that he has a vague impression of what the city would've looked like way back then: a woman's laugh and the pressure of her hand in his, the sound of cars driving by on his quiet street. He wonders if Living-him had lived here all his life, or if he'd come from somewhere far away. He turns slowly toward the sound of something moving, which wasn't his imagination.

A man is staring at him, standing, frozen, on the other side of the street. He is fairly tall, with short brown hair and wide-open eyes, the blue of which are overwhelmed by the black of his pupils. He has a gun slung over his shoulder, and seems to be considering reaching for it. Surely he's not afraid of him? One dead man against a living man isn't much of a match; guns have quite a reach, and rigor mortis tends to slow down your running speed significantly. He doesn’t see any other option for it. Might as well be polite. He waves. The man frowns, confused. Stares at him for a few moments longer.

Waves back.

He smiles, glad that his gesture has been returned, and turns to move on down an alley. "Wait!" He raises his eyebrows and turns back to look at the man, who is now crossing the street toward him cautiously. He stops a few feet away and considers him. "Can...can you understand me?" It amuses him that he remembers enough to know that this is not an English accent, but is disappointed that he can't remember what accent exactly that it is. "You don't have to talk," the man continues as he receives no response from the purple-haired stranger, "you can just...y'know, nod, or shake your head?" He thinks for a moment, then nods. The man smiles. "Really? Cool." They watch each other for a moment. "Do you have a name?" He shrugs, slowly. "Okay," the man nods, folding his arms with a smirk. "Well. You don't look like you're in a big rush to kill me, which is nice." He extends a hand. "I'm Robin." He stares at Robin's hand. "You're...supposed to shake it?" Oh. He shakes Robin's hand, and is surprised that he doesn't flinch away from the cold of his skin or the unnatural stiffness of his movements. He does note that Robin's easy-going smile quirks slightly at the contact. Their hands drop back to their sides, and he decides to try something new.

"R...R..." His voice is rusty and crackly from disuse, but apparently still functional, much to both of their surprise. Robin huffs out a laugh. "You can talk! Why didn't you tell me?" He frowns slightly and tilts his head. "I'm kidding, man, relax," Robin grins. "Were you trying to say my name?" "R..Ro...b..." He nods as he tries again. Robin puts a hand over his heart as if he's touched by the gesture, then chuckles again as he starts to walk. "You wanna come with me? I've never met a zom' that  can talk to me. Let's see if we can't get your voice to work." "Y...eah." Robin looks so proud of his first proper word that he can't help but smile back, the muscles in his face tight with the movement. "C'mon then, uh..." He falters slightly, and the purple-haired man shrugs. "Well...pick a new name then. I have to call you something." "Ro...b...?" "You want me to pick?" "Mm...hm..." "Hm..." He thinks for a minute, then smirks. "Well, the only thing you seem to be able to pronounce is the first half of my name. So let's call you Robbie!" "R...Ro...b...bie.." "See, you're getting better already!" Robin moves off down the street, still laughing and swinging his arms at his sides. Robbie (he likes the ring of it) stumbles after him, listening to him ramble. It's a nice change from the usual silence.

An Egos Masterlist

Because my most frequent writing topic as of late has been The Egos, be it for Jack or Mark, I thought I’d put together my list of the ones I consider canon and their relative power in their groups.

JACK:

MOST POWERFUL: Antisepticeye, Dr. Schneeplestein SECOND TIER: Jackieboy Man, Marvin the Magnificent, Chase Brody LEAST POWERFUL: Robbie the Zombie, Dapper Jack, Shawn Flynn, Jacques Septique UNSURE STATUS: The Announcer, Angus the Survival Hunter

MARK:

MOST POWERFUL: Darkiplier, Wilford Warfstache SECOND TIER:The Host (Formerly The Author), Googleplier LEAST POWERFUL: Bim Trimmer, Dr. Iplier The Silver Shephard, Ed Edgar, Yanderiplier, The Jims, The King of the Squirrels UNSURE STATUS: The King of FNAF

Deal. (A JSE Ego Drabble)

(A/N: I have zero idea what the actual plot is here, I just wanted to write something dramatic with all of the Septiceye gang. So enjoy some horror nonesense!)

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!" -William Shakespeare, The Tempest

It was far too quiet. Chase was as white as a sheet. He'd been against the idea from the start, the only one among them other than Jack who had a family to get back to, and he didn't want to do anything else to put them at risk. He wrung his hands around his Nerf gun, staring at the door into the recording room from his slumped spot on the floor across the hall. A few yards from him, sitting at the top of the stairs, holding one knee and dangling the other over the top steps, was Jackieboy Man. Jackie was uncomfortable, fidgeting with Sam, throwing them into the air and catching them again. Luckily the eye didn't seem to oppose this. Schneep was pacing, muttering under his breath and checking his supplies every few seconds. No one had to ask why he was so nervous. Dapper and Shawn were leaning against the sides of the door, acting as guards, potentially. Dapper seemed to be the only one not uncomfortable with the reletive silence, but even he was showing signs of distress, mustache twitching every few seconds.

"How long've they been in there?" Schneep shrugged, but it was Jackie who answered. "About twenty minutes." "How much longer does he need?" "He told us he'd knock when he was ready." "Well, what if he's-?!" "Don't, Chase." Schneep's voice was unusually devoid of bravado. "I do not need to hear zat idea. I do not need to hear zat right now." Chase glared at him. "Well someone needs to think about this. If Jack can't do it-" "Chase-" "I'm not gonna back down from this! I've got kids to worry about! If that thing gets lose, if it comes after them like it came after you, I'm not havin' it! I'll kill 'im!" "But...but Chase, you can't..." Jackie trailed off, knowing full well Chase meant what he said, and that he had every right to. Dapper reached over and patted Chase's shoulder, but he jerked away from the touch, making Dap sigh as he stood back up, pulling his pocketwatch out and frowning at it, thinking what all of them were thinking. If it came to that, there was no chance for Robbie, anyway.

Jack hadn't liked the idea, either, and if he was being honest with himself, it scared the hell out of him. But he didn't see any other option. If it was him, he couldn't talk to him, he'd have no control. And Rob had volunteered, as awkwardly and as long as it had taken. "If...me, you c'n...talk. Make him...under...stand." "But he could-" "Could what? Kill...me?" Jack had had to smile at that. It was true, it'd be hard to kill a zombie.

He wasn't sure how it'd worked. A little cut with the knife, a twitch of the eye, a glitch, and Rob grabbing his arm. And now he was watching Anti frown in confusion as he stared at what he generally considered to be himself. "What is this?" It was odd hearing a full sentance come out of Rob's mouth, especially in that voice. "What a-am I? What have you d-done?" His voice seemed to be getting more stable, which seemed to unsettle him further. "Relax. You can stay for as long as it takes to do this." "What have you done?" he repeated, scowling as he looked down at his grey hands and striped shirt, picked up a piece of the purple fringe over his eyes. "Why are you still here?" "Robbie lent us his...services." "He...let me do this?" His eyes narrowed and he grinned suddenly. "You think you can reason with me, don't you? That's why you let him do this." "That's what I hoped, yeah," Jack nodded, leaning against the wall, hoping he looked casual. "Easier to talk with a willin' host?" "So much easier. Fits like a glove." He reached for the knife in Jack's hand, but it was jerked out of his reach. That was when Anti realized he was tied down, to a newly installed ring in the wall. He giggled. "You're funny, Jack. You think you can stop me." "No, not stop. Just...come to an agreement. And we're not total idiots." "Well, in that case," Anti spread his arms wide, grinning insanely. "I'm all ears." "Good." Jack paused. Where to start? What to say? If the others knew what he was planning... "First off, you're not allowed to hurt them. Any of them. Schneep, Chase, Jackie, you leave them alone. And Chase's kids. You're not allowed to hurt anyone." "I'm not allowed?" He laughed again. "How would you stop me?" "How have I always stopped you? You'll always be their villain, Anti, you don't scare me anymore. You can't do anything I don't want you to." "Bullshit." He twitched. "I spent an entire month doing things you didn't want." His tone was mocking, and it made Jack jump at the next shriek. "THEY LOVE ME! THEY LET IT HAPPEN! OVER AND OVER!" "Enough of your stupid catchphrases! Jesus, do you ever shut up? Are you gonna let me finish or not?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake. Anti gestured condescendingly for him to continue. Jack looked at the ground for the next part. "You can't let Signe know what's happening. You can never be in Brighton, nowhere near my family or my friends. I'll go somewhere else, I'll tell Signe I'm visiting someone. Pj said he'd help with that part." Anti seemed to be getting it now. "You're seriously doing this? Do they know what you're doing?" He jerked his head at the door, and the sound it made would've been worrying if his host had been a living person. He thumped his chest. "Does he know what you're doing? Maybe we have more in common that I thought!" "We have nothing in common," Jack said shortly. "You're the one making a deal with the devil," he smirked. "Last thing," Jack persisted. "No one knows it's real, and you're gonna keep it that way. You get one day a year, and little appearances when I give the okay." "So exactly what I've been doing since I got here? But you won't fight me." "And you don't get to hurt anyone." "Jack...I like how you think." His skin crawled as Anti smiled at him. For a second it was as if he was looking at himself, the purple and stripes replaced with flashes of green and black. He steeled himself. "Have we got a deal?" Anti nodded, laughing again. Jack extended his hand, the one not holding the knife. "Then okay. I'll let you in."

Chase jumped to his feet at the same time that Dap and Shawn jumped back from the door, and Jackie's and Schneep's heads whipped around. A knock. Dap was closest to the handle, he turned it and the five of them nearly fell into the room in their rush to get inside. All of them were looking frantically between the two figures, desperate to make sure they were alright. Rob looked shaken, but alright, if, if it was possible, a little paler than usual. Jack looked just the same as he had, a small, sheepish smile on his face. "Hey guys." "By Jesus, Jack, you can't be doin' that to us again!" Shawn yelled angrily. Dap had to be held back from slapping him, pointing aggressively at his watch. "It took longer than I thought, I know, I'm sorry," Jack mumbled, not meeting any of their eyes. Chase frowned. "Jack, dude, you okay? What'd he do?" "He...he agreed. He's not going to hurt anyone." "How?" Schneep demanded, "How did you get him to agree to zis? Vhat haff you done, Sean?" Jack jumped a little at the doctor's use of his real name. None of the egos ever called him that, Schneep must have been royally pissed. But he wasn't suspicious in the way that Chase was. "Nothing! Nothing! We just...talked." "About what?" "It's none of your-" "Of course it's our fucking business," Chase growled, more serious than anyone had seen him since the divorce. "I have kids, Jack. I need to know they'll be safe." Jack looked at him for a long moment, long enough to scare him. And then he looked at the ground and wouldn't look back up. "I promise, Chase. I promise your kids are safe." "That's not-" He stopped himself, took a breath. "Jack...tell me you didn't do anything stupid.” Jack smiled shakily, looking up to finally meet Chase’s eyes. "Aren't I always doing something stupid?"

Chase didn't answer, and he didn't laugh in relief like all the others did. He was the only one who'd seen it, and Jack knew it. That flash of green in his eyes? That was going to haunt him.

What've you done, Jack?