gunthingarchive-blog

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PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR MIKE!

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PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR WES!

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PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR JOE!

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inrovina:

xeno  knows  better  than  to  trust  a  stranger ,    just  as  he  knows  better  than  to  enter  a  stranger’s  apartment  without  having  the  upper  hand .   he  knows  this  yet  he  cannot  bring  himself  to  care .    every  day  wraps  circles  of  fear  around  his  throat .    is  it  too  much  to  ask  to  let  go  of  that  for  one  moment  and  breathe  a  little ?    his  answer  comes  in  the  form  of  scrambling  up  from  the  ground ,    footsteps  seeking  entry  into  the  man’s  apartment .    he  doesn’t  look  at  the  man  as  he  enters ,    gaze  merely  sweeping  over  the  area  while  he  walks  before  turning  to  face  the  other ,    forcing  his  mind  to  rest .

‘    nice  place .    ’     he  says ,    more  out  of  courtesy  than  any  particular  interest .    a  home  is  a  home  and  that  is  all  that  matters  to  him .    it  is  nice ,    having  a  place  at  all .    ‘    i  was  wondering  what  the  inside  of  these  apartments  looked  like .    ’    he  wasn’t ,    he  just  needed  to  fill  the  silence  with  something ,    unwilling  to  remain  in  the  absence  of  noise .     ‘    you  lived  here  long ?    ’

Locate; assess; neutralize. Those are the steps Grossmann goes through with any and every person to merely enter his field of vision. This training has been engraved into his mind harder than the natural need and commands to sleep or eat or breathe; take nothing for granted, treat everyone and everything as a threat until either proven otherwise or neutralized. As the kid enters his apartment, he does nothing of these three steps. Bad move, Grossmann thinks. The boy is of no threat to him -- but things do not seem so lucky on the kid’s end.

Not that Grossmann has any intention of harming him... at least not until the boy gives him a good reason to.

“A couple years.” He explains simply as he crosses the floor of the main room to the kitchen. The apartment is a sad little thing: a kitchen filled with nothing but condiments and some old cans; a mattress bare against the floor, a laptop, a television set from the early 2000s with its fat backside; a single closet held firmly closed with a heavy lock; a bathroom with just one bottle of shampoo used as an all-purpose soap. A soldier doesn’t need much.

Dinner is canned beans in tomato sauce over potatoes cooked soft in the microwave. He transfers another serving from the pan standing on the stove to a fresh plate (’fresh’ -- god only knows when was the last time anyone’s used it), retrieves a sole fork (and no other utensils), grabs a can of beer from the fridge, and unceremoniously hands them all over for the kid to take. “Salt’s by the bed if you need it.”

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inrovina:

‘    you  should  learn  to  trust  people .    ’     is  it  sensible  to  allow  snarky  comments  to  slip  so  easily ?    probably  not ,    but  he’s  never  been  one  for  sense .    at  least  he  isn’t  lying .    wes  would  not  be  the  only  unhappy  one  if  the  blow  he  is  convinced  he  has  managed  to  magically  disappear  into  thin  air .

‘    there’s  no  fucking  logic  in  lying  about  something  like  this .    ’     there  is  logic  in  lying  about  other  things  like  his  name ,    his  age  and  practically  every  single  detail  about  himself .    but  not  about  blow .    that  would  only  trigger  a  fight  and  he’s  too  exhausted  for  a  fight .

“You should learn not to give your elders any lip and only speak when spoken to.” The same snark is shot right back at the (much) younger boy, accompanied by the appropriate absolutely-deprived-of-humor smile, Wes not truly expecting Tommy (or whatever) to take the advice but, instead, more intent on proving to him that this old man won’t go down without a fight. And besides, “There’s logic in getting me down there so you can claim we fucked and your pimp can beat me within an inch of my life and steal everything in my wallet. Little piggy like me isn't exactly going to put up a fight.” Shrugging, Wes juts his chin for the boy to follow as he shoves his hands down the pockets of his own sweats. “Or, you know -- so I hear.”

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apologies for my absence both here and on discord these past few days, i’m (yet again) going through a busy little while working both jobs and volunteering and meeting with rl friends. i’ll do my absolute best to zigzag between here and @agunthing and get replies done and answer messages on discord over the next few days. thanks for your patience!

[gunthingarchive-blog]

PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR MIKE!

[gunthingarchive-blog]

PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR WES!

[gunthingarchive-blog]

PERMANENT STARTER CALL FOR JOE!

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due to prior engagements i’m not really gonna be able to be here until monday or tuesday next week even though i planned to - but thanks for staying tuned! i’m gonna reblog everyone’s starter calls so that i have more stuff to work on when i eventually log on.

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We are compiling a list of safe space blogs for various fandoms across this wide Tumblr universe. We’re looking to add FANDOMLESS ORIGINAL CHARACTER role-players who have blogs that are SAFE SPACES for all races, sexes, genders, etc. We are looking for tolerant, accepting people to be added to our FANDOMLESS OC MASTERLIST. This list is open to multi-muses, original characters, sideblogs, and canon characters.

Please like or reblog if your blog meets this critera and you’re interested in joining the list!

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Someone will come find him sooner or later -- Grossmann knows this without a doubt.

Some might say it is because he wants to be found, travelling under his real, actual, legal name rather than an alias -- but he would claim that it is not so much that as much as it is so that they know he’s back in town. Put the fear into them; the mere presence of his name enough to send a message after the last time he were finished with Orchid. Stay the fuck away or there will be consequences. Stay the fuck away or you’ll end up like the sheriff. Joseph motherfucking Grossmann will put you in the fucking hospital -- if you’re lucky.

But he’s done this too many times over the course of the past eighteen years to think they’ll actually get the message and leave him at that -- small town like this, what he’s done to the sheriff -- someone is going to want either revenge or mercy. Or both, who the fuck knows anymore.

So he waits patiently; alert. Sleeps in the bathtub of his dingy little motel room with his 1911 at hand and wakes with a sore back; mentally neutralizes anyone and everyone he walks past, going through the motions in his mind’s eye; sits with his back to the wall and his face to the front door, secondary exists within his field of vision -- as he does now, chewing on a tasteless grey blob the locals call a burger with a slice of melted plastic on top the locals call cheese; sits and watches and waits and, just as he’d predicted, locates a familiar face walking through the door.

@saintslinger, sc.

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“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”

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wes is hangry most of the time? he’s kind of a dick regardless but 92% of the time, if you feed him he will immediately become kinder