Ĺ Ẹ Ã Ď Ẹ ŘLOST A BROTHER.LOST A LOVER.NO LONGER A SON. ❝ T his is for pissin' on the Blarney Stone, brother. God's gonna fuck you up. ❞ ✘
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❛ Lords of war just profit from decay
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SEMI-HIATUS NOTICE.
YO. I'M GOING ON A SEMI-HIATUS HERE.
If you want to keep our threads going when I get back, like this post. Otherwise, shit's getting dropped.
#ooc : got some shit stuff about sawyer in the ask. think im gonna take a break.#&. out •#SEMI-HIATUS POST
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❝ Ain't much for promises, but I'll do what I can. ❞ Promises don't sit right in his stomach. Mostly because he doesn't like that sort of barrier between possibility and outcome. Promises make it awfully hard to get anything done.
❝Aye, aye. Ah’ll try, bu’ ye gotta promise t’ same.❞ Chibs is grateful, if not a little irritated, but he wouldn’t admit that.
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’ Sounds like a real good plan, but if ya fuckin' touch me again, I'll break your fuckin' arm. Capische? ‘
HE KNEELS mouth a straight, impassive line. If only he could rip this man to shreds. His hands physically itch, buzzing with unspent energy and raging violence.
' 'm here for food. '
Of course he doesn’t want to do this the hard way. But, if Murphy must adopt this method, for the sake of protection over what he and his brother worked hard to gain, then he’d do anything to get the stranger o u t. With no hesitation, his free hand gripped hold of the man’s shoulder to shove him down onto his knees. His patience, with no doubt, began to thin out —- and it’s all because of what he’s dealing with on his own.
’ If ye fuckin’ cooperate, we can give each ot’a’ some slack. I’ll even help ye out - but fer now, ye stay on t’e damn ground.’
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❝ YA WANT supplies? Keep your fuckin' hand off that gun and maybe you'll find your way t' some. ❞
The anger, pure unadulterated rage resonates within him. He feels it in the air and inhales the scent of it, letting it blacken his lungs and deaden a cold heart. Fingers curl and sharp nails pick at each other.
There were supplies inside that building, maybe even formula for his daughter. He needs to get in their, and take what he can without being seen. But, his cover is blown almost instantly, and the cop turns to face the other man with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first, only stares him down with pure fury in his eyes.

”Neither. Jus’ came ta’ get supplies, figured no one was here.” He’s lying too, but he’s become a good liar. His hand glides over the gun resting on his hip, and then freezes.
”It’d be smart if ya’ got out of my way.”
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❝dilseachd — loyalty; gaelic. dachaigh — fios — an dèidh — iomradh.
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❝ Shifters ain't known for bein' the reasonable type. Take care'a yourself; I'll be out in the mornin'. ❞ He gives him a swift clap on the back
❝Still ain’t no reason to, y’know.❞ He’s not saying no, a somewhat positive sign. Depends on what form he’d take, though, but still—he’s grateful ( to an extent ).
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❝ 'm gonna hang 'round outside tonight, 'f that's alright with you. Just t' be sure. ❞
Last night in Charming, he'll make it productive.
❝'ll try.❞ It was only a half truth, but worth the effort of a response nonetheless. If Sawyer stuck around, he wouldn’t necessarily contest it; he’d deal. It was probably a good idea either way.
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❝ Sarcasm, little'n. Place 's a shit hole. Missin' the woods already. Think Niabi's gonna tear a hole in the damn wall. ❞

‘ — don’t know if i hoped for anything, much. ’
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❝ ---------- alrigh'. Call me 'f anythin' comes up, m' friend. ❞
He'll probably prowl around tonight, hang around the house for safe-keeping, then run back tomorrow evening. Still doesn't sit right with him, leaving Chibs.
❝Aye, aye, might’ve, but tha’s no’ the point. Bu’ ‘m no’ sure yous all bein’ ‘ere is doin’ any good fer anyone. We’re workin’ through a few situations, aye, bu’ tha’s our business. Get a couple’a drinks in me an’ ah’ll be fine, like ah said. Thought’s appreciated, though.❞
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anonymously tell me why you follow me.
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rottingmonsters
A sharp, distinct whistle blares past his lips.
❝ Kid, you're blockin' the damn way.❞
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wxlfling
❝ Jersey all ya hoped it'd be? ❞
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❝ Please-- 'm sure ya broke the damn bull a couple'a times. But you're m' friend--- and it don't feel right up 'n leavin' after shit goes down. Ain't what friends do. ❞
He couldn’t be that transparent in the other’s eyes, could he? ❝Ah’ll be fine, Sawyer. Ain’t m’ first rodeo, an’ it won’t be m’ last. ‘m not tha’ lonely, ‘s nothin’ ah’ve not encountered before.❞ But it is different in that efforts were fruitless.
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kxllercolt
His territorial instincts are sharper now. Before they were a well cared for blade, now they're lethal and vicious, razor thin and ready to strike at any moment. And watching this man step into his territory as him on the edge of those instincts, eyes like daggers and a voice like needles.
❝ The fuck you think you're doin'? You blind 'r just stupid? ❞
He tends to forget not everyone's been blessed with the gift of natural instinct.
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❝ Ain't talkin' about protection. I'm assumin' some big shit went down, all right, 'n trauma ain't all that friendly t' lonely fuckers such as yourself. ❞
❝Ah’m no’ so sure. Business, um, jus’ sorted itself out, y’know?❞ Bobby is dead. Marks is imprisoned. The cause was made clear; Moses knew. They could, if only for a moment, take a deep breath of much needed air, but not for long. The dust was far from settling. But their efforts to be the Secretary’s savior was in vain, as he had been home only for that to be ripped away moments later.
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