ofwaywards - Tumblr blog

[ofwaywards]

"MAKE SURE YOU GET THE cheese dip. it's like, liquid saturated fats, and it's delicious. it's gotta be six times your daily sodium limits or something. i dream about it." and because he can't resist, because he hasn't seen her in a few days, and he missed her, he throws his arm over jessica's shoulders. casually. "i miss cheese. i mean, i know we have cheese, but i miss the really gross kind that came on a mcdonalds burger. it wasn't actually cheese, it was some kind of melted plastic, and i miss it."

'i wouldn't have broken it more." actually, he might've. "anyways, i'll let someone with an engineering brain fix it. yeah, a drink sounds good. the rainstorm?" he asks, as if there's anywhere else.

" i'll get you some the next time i'm out. " she promises with a smile, not feeling too bad about being unable to keep it when he knows that just the same. jess could name a billion and one different things she misses from when things were normal, but almost all of them were food related. maybe she's just been hungry.

her lips part to offer to try something herself, like she could be naturally gifted in machinery if she just gave it a go, clutching the wrench in hand like it could do something... but as soon as he's given up and ready to leave, it's all jess really cares about.

" you'd have just broken it more, " she offers amicably, like they need some sort of justification to ditch. " it's safer for everyone this way. " jess nods, her grin bordering on mischievous since clearly she's also embracing a personal gain here. she shrugs. " besides, i don't know about you but i could really use a drink. "

[ofwaywards]

HE WATCHED HER LOOK AROUND, and after a second, laughed and passed her the wrench in his hand. he really just wanted to see what she would do with it.

"shit, a target?" he bought into her joke so easily, happy to go along with anything she said on the off chance that something might make her smile. "i hope they have a starbucks inside, and that little cafe with the pretzels. i love those things."

sighing, he looked away from the machine and back at her, a frown on his face. it was quickly broken with a smile. "yeah, i got no clue. fuck it. let's get out of here."

for a mere moment he has her hopes high and bright, only for them to fall just as quick. a sigh leaves her lips, glancing around for something she can hold— looking pretty was all about all she was going to offer anyways.

" yeah, not too long ago. " jess decides it looks pathetic to say just how soon she'd come to find him, that nothing else really took much thought before her legs got moving. " oh, amazing. a target just opened up on main street, it's really gonna bring a boom to town. " jessica smirks, though it's embarrassing how badly she wishes that were true.

she walks closer to him by the machine, noting how he's just kind of staring at it. " do you even know what you're doing ? " she really doesn't think so.

[ofwaywards]

HE REALIZED JUST HOW WORRYING his choice of words was, only after it had spilled out of his mouth. maybe he could focus on looking a little less like a person about to wreak sincere havoc. he just wanted a chance to blow off some steam, to decompress at the end of the week without making anyone worry over him more than was probably already happening. maybe he should've just gone for a damn beer.

"honestly, whatever you've got is fine. i'm just trying to keep from too rusty. always room for improvement, you know?"

"Yeah, sure, man! Whatcha lookin' for?" Tigo started, easy grin at the ready on his lips as he bounced forward toward the binders that contained the necessary paperwork depending on what Will was taking and for how long. Santi's brow furrowed slightly at the further line of questioning, something big... what's the biggest you've got? Concerning, curious. "Uh... something big? You just working on your shot or...?" He trailed off as his eyes scanned the binders and he found the one containing paperwork for the largest of their 'available to the public' weapons. "I got some rifles, a couple shotguns. More info and I can help you narrow down your choices some more?"

[ofwaywards]

WILL WASN'T PARTICULARLY ADEPT MECHANICALLY, but he could make do. so when the combine started making some kind of ridiculous clanking noise, he figured he could give it a go. or at least, get very in over his head before eventually resigning it over to someone from the technical school or maintenance. he was about halfway to giving up, growing increasingly irritated with the task, when jessica appeared.

his frustration disappeared. she gave him a bright grin and a terrible impression, making his eyes widen, but he couldn't help but smile back.

"hey! yeah, for sure. i mean, no. i mean, you can hold something and look pretty, i guess." oh, excellent communication. panic, reverse. he looked away, staring at the machine like he could fix it just by looking at it if he tried hard enough. "did you just get back? how's the outside world?"

closed for @ofwaywards

location: the farm

it felt like a LONG twenty-four hours, but as soon as she's done with quarantining, jess makes her way over to the farm. she doesn’t mind the place, she likes most of the people, definitely likes the animals, less the cleaning up after them part, but . . it’s always where will is so she rarely has much of a choice.   

her right wrist is bandaged up, spots of pink blood seeping through the cotton as she keeps it purposely hidden beneath her leather jacket. it isn't a big deal, just some glass scraped her and she's pathetically a bleeder — plus she really isn't in the mood for a lecture from him, not when she's not seen in him what feels like forever, so she just wants to hang out for a bit and leave all seriousness for later.

“ howdy, stranger, ” jessica grins at him, her best but somehow still worst southern accent creeping from her lips. it's not like it's been weeks ( or even really a couple of days ) but will is the only person she actually misses when she's away on scouting trips, so she can't help but be excited to finally see him. the farm has got to be one of the most important jobs around campus, but all she wants is to ask him to ditch it all so they can go off somewhere. “ if i help with whatever you're doing, can we get out of here quicker ? "

[ofwaywards]

WHATEVER HE'D BEEN TRYING TO say, he hadn't done a particularly good job of it. that was typical, actually. will was never particularly adept with words. actions speak louder, and all. that was probably just an excuse for him fumbling the ball every time.

"no, i . . . " he shrugged. "i mean, i'll try whatever. you know better than me. maybe i'm just really not cut out for this 'book' stuff. just, listen." he leaned back across the book and gently removed it from her hand. flipping through it, he searched through the poems. he'd spent enough time perusing this particular page that the book simply fell open to it.

and he knew he was going to say this poorly, not like poetry was supposed to be read, he was sure, but fuck it, he really did have questions.

" 'my tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air / born here of parents born here from parents the same and their parents the same.' well, shit. that sounds like me. that sounds exactly like me! like maybe this guy had dirt under his fingernails too, you know? my parents—" that's a train of thought he can't bear to follow, so he backtracks. "but then it says, 'creeds and schools in abeyance,' and what the fuck is an abeyance? and then there was like twelve more pages of it and i didn't know a lot of those words either."

shit. he should probably shut up. she hadn't asked him for a fucking book club.

there's no way, exactly, for zeynep to fully process the roller coaster of emotions she feels upon hearing will's explanation for giving back the book she had suggested after painstaking consideration. first, the word 'pretentious' causes her eyebrows to shoot up, the closest to indignation she can possibly get. then, she wants to comfort him, explain that he's not too dumb to understand the words written in one of her favorite books. perhaps that is the part of her that wishes for another person to connect to on that level and speak about the poems with. but she knows far better than most that not everyone has her exact tastes, hence the multitude of feelings she has in between indignation and sympathy. touching the book cover gently, zeynep frowns, then turns to the shelf closest to her, examining it with narrowed eyes. "would all poetry books be off limits, or are you willing to give another one a try? however you answer is fine, i just want to know which direction to go in with my suggestion, see if we can't get something you'll enjoy much more."

[ofwaywards]

who: closed starter for @heartxsighs where: midafternoon when: the library

WILL SET DOWN THE BROWN, faded hardback book onto the desk, sliding it across over to zeynep. "listen, i know whitman sounds like the right guy for me. earthy and realistic and shit, but like, he's still kind of pretentious. i think i'm too stupid for poetry. 'o captain, my captain' is great, and all. maybe it's just the free verse stuff. it feels rambling to me, you know? i think it's going right over my head. got any recommendations for something less, uh, challenging? for the local village idiot."

[ofwaywards]

who: closed starter for @bulletsfm where: early evening when: the armory "THINK I CAN CHECK SOMETHING out for a couple of hours? i thought i'd take it to the outskirts and do some target practice." he didn't want to admit that he was actually bored as shit, tired from a long day but unwilling to just go back to his dorm and sleep. and after the recent incident with the missing scout, finding out the coalition was still lurking not very far from the university grounds, he could stand to work on his aim a little. he was definitely rusty, even if he'd been a decent shot at one point. "something big, maybe? what's the biggest you've got?"

[ofwaywards]

who: closed starter for @slavghters where: evening when: jack's dorm

" DO YOU KNOW HOW TO darn socks? i could probably figure it out, but i'm afraid i'll make a mess of it." will sprawled out on the floor of jack's dorm, staring at the hole where his toe was starting to peek through. he took another sip of his beer, thankful jack had offered to share what she'd just brewed up. he probably shouldn't be asking for any more favors. oh, well. "it's not a big deal. it's just, i've only got like two decent pairs left."

[ofwaywards]

I love an open window and some cool clean air

[ofwaywards]

OUTER BANKS 1.07, “Dead Calm”

[ofwaywards]

in mere seconds, he was drenched. will frowned, wishing he still had a decent raincoat. he tugged at the collar of his wet shirt. he was halfway tempted to make some snide remark, ('do you think this is a bad sign?'), but resisted. the day had already been unfortunate enough already. "how far is this place supposed to be again?" his whisper was low, gravely. "i can't see shit."

[ofwaywards]

he'd been close to the uec once before. still probably a dozen miles away, if not more. but since then, he'd never wandered close. it was off limits, forbidden, a place that ceased to exist in his mind. he couldn't go back there, to where he'd last seen ben and jo alive. he'd spent years trying to get it out of his head, what had happened just a few miles outside of the gates. but it was never forgotten, not really. his nightmares proved that.

so he'd argued that he couldn't return. it didn't matter what kind of safety may have laid beyond the university's new landscape. it didn't exist anymore. there was no future for him there.

but he was eventually reminded why he should never say never.

" jo? " he felt thunderstruck, shaken to his core. there was no way she had made it out alive. he knew it, he knew she'd been dead, she was gone, and now...

he reached out to touch her shoulder— proof, he needed proof this was real— entirely speechless.

╰ * closed starter ⧽ @ofwaywards !

❝      WILL?      ❞      her  heartbeat  pounds  loudly,   so  fast  she’s  surprised  she  can  hear  anything  other  than  its  powerful  rhythm.    a  second  dies,   or  two,   before  her  brain  can  comprehend  who  stands  in  front  of  her.    this  must  be  another  dream.    she  often  sees  them  in  her  sleep,    her  mother’s  sweet  smile,   the  feeling  of  safety  after  finding  solace  between  her  father’s  arms,   the  endless  joy  of  sharing  her  brothers’  time.    constant thoughts of them roam her head,   but  they’re  always  images  of  their  past,   the  days  when  they  used  to  be  happy,   safe.    and  if  perhaps  they  were  never  entirely  safe    —    at  least  they  were  together.      ❝      how?      ❞      her  body  makes  no  movement  to  get  closer,   for  she  could  not  bear  the  disappointment  of  finding  out  just  how  intangible  this  strange  reality  must  be,   yet  her  voice  breaks  still.    she  almost  wants  to  beg:    please,   if  this  is  a  dream,   let  me  never  wake  up.      ❝      how  are  you  alive?      ❞      she,   a  deer  in  headlights,    frozen.    tears  fill  her  eyes  while  she  swallows  harshly,   desperate  to  undo  the  knot  resting  at  the  back  of  her  throat.      ❝      how  are  you  here?      ❞      a  question,    painted  so  painfully  across  her  features,   goes  unsaid.    are  you  real?

[ofwaywards]

( alex fitzalan. cis man. he/his. ) ⸺ 🐏 greetings, bighorns ! walking around campus, sporting his twin brother’s necklace, we’ve spotted WILLIAM BARLOWE, a twenty eight year old who contributes to our thriving community as a FARMER. according to our intel, he’s been around the sanctuary for one year and what we know about him, aside from the fact that he does agree with the decision to close the gates, is that he spent years roaming while mourning his family, was a boy scout for nine years, and loves astronomy. doesn’t that make him fantastic ? we think it does, and that’s why we appreciate him so much, grateful for what he gives to our community.

        about.   biography.  statistics. connections.

[ofwaywards]

Alex Fitzalan in Netflix’s The Society

[ofwaywards]

i love you green. i love you forests. i love you smell of damp earth. i love you feeling before the storm breaks. i love you moss. i love you rivers. i love you streams. i love you thunderstorms. i love you sunlight shining through leaves.

[ofwaywards]

                   — OFWAYWARDS a dependent, multimuse roleplay blog for @ survivorsfm as written by lexi ( she + her. thirty, est, chaotic bisexual)

william alexander barlowe. twenty eight. he + his. farmer.