hypothewes

[hypothewes]

Though the blonde's embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed, Wes makes no acknowledgement of it. It was rather tame in reaction, as Wes himself is unapologetic when it came to the volume of his own voice.

"Pah!" He waves a hand dismissively, brows tensing in disbelief. "The stars, you say! The stars do nothing except shine their light on us, to put it simply. Next you'll tell me your personality, your prospects, your relationships—all controlled by floating balls of gas in infinite space." He blows a raspberry, uncaring if the spit goes flying...well, where it may. "It's all hullabaloo to comfort those afraid of the unknowns that plague their life. Much easier to ascribe responsibility to something light years away rather than take it into your own hands."

The cheap plastic of his office chair squeaks as he leans in, his one visible right eye squinting in contemplation. "Yes, a classic case of retrograde amnesia... You sure you hadn't hit your noggin, young man? Well, I suppose it's entirely possible you forgot that too! Although... Oh, it's silly. Not even possible. Just an old man getting ahead of himself. And yet..." A suddenly giddy grin tears its way across his lips, his fingers digging into the fabric of the headrest. He leans in so far that it verges on violating personal space—if he had regards for such things. "I do say if I did have a laboratory here, a real professional, high scale sort... Why, I could scan and emulate your brain and get down to the problem lickety split! Get all in the unpleasant mushy crevices and parse something out. Oh, and of course figure out a long term solution for your little memory problem here."

Wes sighs, a long wistful thing, for technology he no longer could toy with have access to. His chair rolls back ever so slightly as he leans back out of Vash's personal space, sticking his legs straight out and balancing on the heels of his feet. The back of his hand rests dramatically over his forehead, his tone every bit as exaggerated. "Alas... I'm but your poor average man with nothing but his tool box and whatever scrap metal toys he comes up with. It's a real shame. If only I had a laboratory—it doesn't even have to be mine." Cough.

The brief couple of shouts from Wes instantly get Vash to jump in place, a hand coming up to shield away part of his face in embarrassment. He chuckles nervously along with the other, blushing red as he glances away.

Hearing unexpected sentimental sincerity from the other scientist helps settle Vash's nerves, though. He watches the other guy through his fingers, before eventually his hand slips back down under his own chin, unconsciously mirroring Wes.

"As kind as you are wise, pal." He nods once to emphasize the appreciation. "Y'see, I've been here a while, and this place, it—well. It seems like the Stars like messin' around with memories. I've met up with others here, from where I've come from. N'for a long while I had no clue what they were going on about with what I'd done there.

"Up 'til it all came back to me at once. Something like two months of action there. Those memories've stayed untouched since then. But my memories of here have been all…" The hand under his chin splays out to the side, in a gesture suggesting dispersal. "Jumbled up? Fuzzed out? … Just plain disrupted."

[hypothewes]

submitting zapp renfro from blood blockade battle front, app is in the third link or /app

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, Zapp!

You will be housed in CONDO 401.

You will retain the ability to solidify your blood into a sword.

You'll also be given this half used zippo.

– ⋆ diadem.

[hypothewes]

🖊 Hiiii

Send “🖊” for a quick doodle of your muse!

i know what you are

[hypothewes]

in honor of obtaining some free time, i have some prompts for wes i brewed up! if you're interested, hit this post with a like and we can discuss it further in dms! i'm even open to anything not on this list, this is just something that helps get the juices flowing & demonstrate a little of his personality.

craft punk

instead of entering himself in the ring, wes is drawn more to the illegal side of competitions such as these—betting. specifically, using his own technological prowess to create a disruptor that will hijack the robot of the person he's betting against. hey, easy money!

(more under the cut)

candle lighting for lost

wes appears here, with his own flower raft he lets drift off through the current. he won't say who it's for or what he's even doing there, but he's still open to a friendly conversation.

the chillin villain

in the midst of gigantic powerhouses and cartoonishly evil masterminds, wes is a sight that sticks out once you spot him. dorkish, scrawny, with large glasses and a lab coat—he really ought to be anywhere else, but this place reminds him of home. he's moreso here to just stick around and listen in on other's conversations than to contribute himself and, unsurprisingly, not many are willing to actually sit with him.

never ending extravaganza / dinner in the dragon's court

I'm here for the free food bro

rotation station

I just think this would be funny. Wes has no point being here which is why he should be there. I think he's too eccentric and odd and too focused on his own whims to even be involved in this sort of thing

[hypothewes]

This week has been kicking my ass bros and bras

[hypothewes]

drinking after work and i concocted the ideal isola cabinet

[hypothewes]

i willl be making a permanent starter call thing at some point

[hypothewes]

hi there! this is luke/mp4 apping an original character named wes ryder! you can access the application through clicking the gear with "more" text under it and clicking the appropriate app link or by using the mobile navigation link under the pinned post! this is my first time apping to this group so lmk if there are any changes to be made!

Welcome to sunny Isola Radiale, Wes!

You will be housed in HOUSE 101!

You will be given a BB gun.

Enjoy your stay!

*Aspidiske

[hypothewes]

"Wow!" It comes out on instinct, a woosh of air escaping his lips. His eyebrows jump up into his bangs and though his eyes remain hidden behind the thick cloud of his lenses, it's easy to tell his eyes have widened. "That's a lot!"

Wes laughs, an awkward thing that barks out of him, scratching the back of his head. He leans back in his office chair, cheap plastic squealing as he does so, then rocks forward again. "Sometimes the best thing we can do is make sure we wake up tomorrow. Trying to handle things that are much bigger than us can oft lead to self destruction." He perches his chin on his hand, the other resting along the rim of the headrest. "Why don't you tell me more about it, boy? Maybe we can parse something orderly out of the chaos."

"Y'know... Yeah, solid point, friend. Thanks. Formative or not, 's an underestimation of the subconscious."

The way Wes talked reminded him of his family back at Home—a little clinical, but there was nostalgia for it, and some comfort to be found in how cut-and-dry it sounded compared to his own thoughts. It's grounding to hear.

"I've been worried about all that lately, is all. Whether they'll come back at all, what will come back, when they'll come back... Phew. Kinda tiring. But I s'pose I don't really have a choice in the matter. Hard t'come to terms with that."

[hypothewes]

Wes rolls Worst Blunt Ever

Asked to leave Isola Radiale

[hypothewes]

"There is some appeal to be had, huh? No matter what happens or what changes, the stars will always remain the same." He absentmindedly scratches at his chin—constellations... Something he wasn't familiar with until recently. Sure, he'd trace pictures into the stars with his sibling, but that was when he was a kid. Supposed it was poetic when he found out their flickering lights were mirages of a body long gone by now, as the world had followed in their steps. "Right... Polaris. She's a reliable one, isn't she?"

He watches her kick her instrument, tilting his head ever so slightly. Well, it's her property, so she can do what she may with it...and it's not exactly like it's the first time he's seen someone give their tool a good thwack to get it working again. "Marine biology though, eh? I wouldn't say it isn't fun, not at all. After all, if it weren't for things like the horseshoe crab, there wouldn't nearly be as many people walking around like they are today. Even if they are, well...slimey."

Clearing his throat, Wes keeps pushing on, rather than linger on the odd shape of fish or their unpleasant textures. "I might call myself something of a roboticist myself! Although most of my projects are small scale. I prefer to use them to improve overall quality of life—things that seem tedious where your energy is better spent elsewhere."

"Perhaps so!" As the telescope is now sat on the plush ground, something...Wasn't hooked up right, and it promptly crashed to the ground. The doctor stared at it for a moment, contemplating on if it was worth it...Which...It was! She paid a hefty penny for this telescope and she was going to get some use out of it!

"I'd hardly call myself an astronomer! It might be a hobby of mine, but I never went to school for it. My field is autonomous robotics!...Though I do dabble in marine biology, but that's less fun."

"But as far as the telescope goes, I want to map the stars here! If I don't recognize any of the constellations here; it'll...Well it won't tell me where I'm at: but it will tell me where I'm not," In almost no time, she had the telescope back up and running, this time, kicking it for good measure. It definitely wasn't going anywhere this time!

"And, if it's totally fruitless, it's at least something to do. I wasn't able to find any sort of documented star maps on the internet or the archives around here."

[hypothewes]

hi, with prior reserve this is jpeg submitting milly thompson from trigun maximum! her application can be found on the third link ^^

Welcome to thrilling Isola Radiale, Milly!

You will be housed in HOUSE 116!

You will also be given a BB Gun.

Enjoy your stay!

– mod solaris

[hypothewes]

Wes laughs, a light thing that echoes into the night. He inhales, then exhales slowly, letting the stench of smoke burn his lungs before he answers. "If it weren't for you, I'd have to get on all fours and look for the proper rocks to start a spark with. So I really owe you one. You could say I'm new to the area." As for his "smokes", or smoke, more like, Wes lets the question drift by. Although he considers it resourceful, he doesn't expect everyone to understand. Some of us, he supposes, are just born to scrounge for what they can. A lost soul who takes what he may.

Besides, there are more interesting topics at hand, especially those that distract him from the oppressive peace that hangs over him. Wes eyes the lump under his jacket out of the corner of his vision. He's no stranger to the idea of things like hidden weapons or the shapes they take under clothing. Identifying such things makes for life or death in a lot of places, especially the ones where another person is oft another opportunity for much needed supplies.

...That, or this particular rando liked to shove objects under his jacket for his midnight activities. Instead of something way more convenient, like a pants pocket or a bag. Shoplifting isn't entirely out of the equation, but if he were going to shoplift, then there would be no point in purchasing anything.

"I'm a little surprised, actually." Wes tilts his head ever so slightly, flicking the ashes off the end of his cigarette. He talks as though it's something as casual as the weather, as lighthearted as small talk made over coffee and work. "My, in such an idyllic little place like this, I'd never expect to find a gunman." He jabs the cigarette towards the area of his person that he was studying moments prior. "Though you needn't worry. Little ol' me couldn't try anything, even if he wanted to. It does raise the question: What are you so afraid of?"

It's more of an approximated stab than any real deduction. He figured that, in the case of a misunderstanding, it'll offer something more entertaining than just standing around and smoking in silence.

Ugh, he must have made a wrong turn somewhere.

Even the higher levels of Fibonacci, even the Surface, have plenty of corners you shouldn't be hanging around at this time of night. But he was more than a little drunk and he was also out of cigarettes, so when Vash inevitably passed out and Wolfwood hauled his ass into bed he decided to go on a walk to let the fresh air sober him up.

Hasn't worked very well, and now he thinks he's a good ways from home. Too late for that. A cursory glance at his phone shows that it's midnight, just a little past. At least this joint has the smokes he likes. The gun sits heavy where it's holstered under his thin jacket; good to have here, maybe. He'd only just started carrying it around again after some recent events.

He leaves the gas station with a plastic bag containing a tall can of soda and two candy bars dangling from his wrist. One of his brand new cigarettes is placed between his lips and he flips his lighter open. It flickers to light after a few shaky attempts and Wolfwood holding his hand up to shield the flame.

"Huh?" Wolfwood's eyes flicker towards the stranger. He as enough of his wits about him to stay moderately on guard around here, but this guy's just asking for a light. He's lit plenty of shady dudes' cigarettes before.

So he extends the lighter over and lights the strangers cigarette. "You got smokes, but no lighter?"

[hypothewes]

This week has been kicking my ass bros and bras

[hypothewes]

"Ahh, I see. Perhaps it might seem that way at first, but we're talking about childhood here. Your experiences then will define the rest of your life, even if you don't remember it later on. After all, the subconscious is outside of your awareness—or memory! Maybe you don't remember the first time you've ever scraped your knee on concrete or cut your finger cutting vegetables, but you know to avoid it, yeah? Similarly, even if it doesn't happen exactly during childhood, I think the mind is a powerful thing. It retains a lot more than you may know."

@hypothewes:

"Of course not! What you're describing sounds like a concussion, in which case you could be suffering a brain bleed and not even know it right away. To the uneducated, it may not seem like so much of a problem. That is, until the stroke sets in."

"Oh! Nononono nonono, sorry, I meant the injury t'be separate from forgetting about it! Like, maybe... Scraping a knee as a kid, having it heal so well there's nothin' t'see of it, n'then growing up and forgetting it ever happened?"

[hypothewes]

I think if ladies gave me a chance they'd discover that I'm not just an awkward strange guy, but also a highly neurotic basket case whose hangups make him very difficult to deal with in a romantic context

[hypothewes]

These days you can't even kill someone in cold blood for a stale slice of bread and expired milk