outlaste-a

[outlaste-a]

starter call!

[outlaste-a]

the way he looks at people he doesn't like. he's literally the tallest in the room (he's 5'8)

[outlaste-a]

ive been using a generator in order to pick memes to respond to and the generator picks zawn every fucking time

[outlaste-a]

@onfear, “we left him like an animal caught in a trap.”

“i know what your friends think about the world, the people in it. but you ask me? there are some people out there who don't deserve a chance. and i think you know that.” a cigarette dangles from his mouth, a dying flame dances across his face as he proceeds to light it. [the lighter itself seemed to follow him from one war to the next, from desert wastelands back home again. a cube blanching a perpetual shape inside his back pocket.] bar the campfire they gathered around, it was the only sign of life for miles in every direction. it felt safer that way at least for lee. he was somewhat unconvinced by the group's pursuit of expansion and outside recipiency, that suspicion of newcomers followed him across the globe and had only lengthened in the events at the ranch. [you couldn't trust anyone, not before, and not after.] he would be happy to settle now, him and a dog somewhere, but something keeps lee with them. something like owing, something like a promise. along the road together, he felt as though he had gained an obligation to alicia, to see to it that she'd be okay after everything she had gone through in the matter of months. jake, maddie, nick. the list was almost always ongoing, and showed little sign of letting up until nothing else remained. lee thinks he was lucky in that way, starting with nothing and ending with nothing. it didn't make you scared. he sighs. “look if it makes you feel better not that it probably would i can't say i would've done any different.”

[outlaste-a]

@waysteland, “whatever else this place needs, i'm here for it.”

he had long learned to detect deceit. [before this, millionaires had been an ego to feed, a prize to be won: everything adorned identified by a pencilled-in price tag, circled in a magazine.] there was always an agenda to their approach, whether they themselves knew it or not. rafe had always known it. he could see through the vacuity of false smiles, a gaping black hole of duplicity that hungers to swallow him whole. the aftermath of the world ending was no different, the tattered remains of society bowing to his citadel as though fortune and wealth even mattered. but this is where they would always come, crawling across his lawn to find refuge in his shadow. how utterly humiliating. victor, on the other hand, provided better attempts at belonging. [the man was a foe wearing friend's clothing, buttoned up in appropriated riches something taken but never earned.] rafe knows by the pop of loud colours, an offensive mismatch. that was the thing about real wealth it was ordinarily quiet. on the contrary, destitution was flashy, an obnoxious desire to be a part of something but only setting themselves apart further. victor presented himself to rafe as an equal, promising a provision of equivalence if simply given protection in return. it was a pledge of desperation, the parting of which is something rafe can find leverage with, and so he begins to tease out what he can, adding weight to the scale to see just how much he can balance.

“you a bottom feeder, victor?” rafe drawls, taking two glasses between pinched fingers, setting them down on the desk ahead of his company. there was no negotiation to be made without a drink, that was something rafe could be certain of. he pops off the cork and begins to pour, a woody scent filling the space between them. “i knew people like you, before. people who would do anything for money, fame. and now... i just need to know that if i invite you in with me, you won't throw me to the walkers, so to speak.” rafe looks at him with two seafoam irises, lulling his prey gently out to sea. “can i trust you, victor?”

[outlaste-a]

ignore me adding a handful more muses when i explicitly said i wanted to keep my muse list extremely small so i could keep on top of replies🚶

[outlaste-a]

@6ore, “hey… hey! you don’t need to be scared anymore.”

a spectre of the past, each child had already mourned the boy who lived, who returned from the cruel wilderness that swallowed his voice and took all feeling out of his expression. [a sacrificial lamb spat out by the woods after two months of cultivation, a tender composition of meat that's mere existence defied sense for the girls to finally feed off of.] javi had been one who survived when he shouldn't have. if one of them asked where he had been and what he had been doing that entire time, he wouldn't be able to produce an intelligible answer: it felt something like a dream, a series of movements and feeding that felt lightyears away from the present moment. going through the motions, unable to sense the grip of flesh at the behest his fingertips and the bones splintering between his teeth. seeing them was something like waking up, so how could he share that he felt more scared than ever, being back in their company? javi can still visualise the knife pressed deep into travis' throat, how they each salivated at the mere sight of blood, the trickle of red that cascaded down the long stretch of his neck. not nat, though. her alone could javi trust, not yet witnessing her succumb to the madness that had plagued them all. his hand fists against her jacket at a suspected attempt to leave, burying the cloth inside own terrified grasp.

please don't leave me, doe eyes plead. they speak noiselessly, an adjuration that appeals to her sensitivity: it was not her he was scared of, but the others. and perhaps just as much, being alone again, like those two months isolated, drinking muddy water off of the land. [if he were really thinking about their situation, and not still stuck navigating the dreamlike nether, javi would consider what had been a worse situation.] dread had crept under his skin, homed itself there, as though anticipating an awful something that was yet to announce itself.

[outlaste-a]

“I guess it’s the price you pay.” | Fear The Walking Dead s03e13

[outlaste-a]

the walking dead starters ( s7ep11.)

!! SPOILER !! ALERT !! FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T WATCHED THE EPISODE YET.

“ please. please don’t.”

“ please, god, no.”

“ i hate this. please!”

“ welcome home, haircut.”

“ there’s more at the library. a lot more.”

“ you… you have a library?”

“ s/he escaped?”

“ you know where s/he is?”

“ no. i’d tell you if i did.”

“ th-this’ll be satisfactory.”

“ you hungry?”

“ i’ll get you something. what do you want?”

“ what do i want?”

“ anything? really, anything i want?”

“ sure, whatever.”

“ dude, yes, you can have anything. what do you want?”

“ can i have lobster?”

“ no, you can’t have lobster.”

“ what the hell do you think this is?”

“ do you have canned pasta and tomato sauce?”

“ you want orange-y or red?”

“ i like pickles.”

“ number 42 is a coding system for persons here?”

“ okay, i’ll be back in ten.

“ enjoy your new place.”

“ good mornin’ sunshine.”

“ is it just as cozy as you remember?”

“ you spent a long time at the wrong side of the door.”

“ so let’s talk about now.”

“ you know anything about that, ___?”

“ i gotta tell you, that is one hell of a coincidence.”

“ was it you?”

“ did it work the other way around? you were supposed to break him/her. did s/he break you?”

“ i mean, let’s face it. you’ve got some pretty legitimate grievances.”

“ you change your stripes on me, ___?”

“ you startin’ to see things different?”

“ after all this… before and after… hell, after everything… who are you, ___?”

“so, do you think you know where ___ went?”

“ bring him/her back. sort it out.”

“ stitch him/her up. fix what you can fix.”

“ you don’t think s/he did it?”

“ you think s/he did?”

“ you were just beaten and thrown in a cell. unfairly, if you ask me.”

“ i like to think that i do.”

“ that’s exactly the kind of person who really isn’t…. expected to be around anymore.”

“ just trying to help.”

“ barber. might be able to kill that thing on your head.”

“ you’re one of us now, not them.”

“ they eat shit, we eat good.”

“ must be your lucky day, ___.”

“ are these homemade?”

“ that’s some good diy stuff there.”

“ no – no thank you.”

“ you want something, you take it, ___.”

“ there s/he is! wo/man of the hour!”

“ come on over here, big fella.”

“ don’t be rude asshole. say hello.”

“ … h-h-hello.”

“ you got a name, asshole?”

“ you see this right here? you might have to get real close.”

“ now, under normal circumstances, i’d be showing you that real close over and over again.”

“ but, see, all i really want to know is if you are a smarty-pants.”

“ you know things?”

“ answer the question.”

“ i- i am indeed a smarty-pants.”

“ even though my memory is not considered eidetic, i don’t skim and i don’t scrimp.”

“ if knowledge is dropped, i do indeed pick it up.”

“ oh, you really are just some asshole.”

“ n-no, i’m not.”

“ fire, with uh… you know… fire.”

“ uh, huh. all right, then, dr. smarty-pants. you ought to be able to crack this without breaking a sweat.”

“ how do we keep them on their feet?”

“ you already possess the means to resolve your issue.”

“ god damn! if that ain’t the coolest thing i’ve ever heard in my life!”

“ not only is that practical, it is just bad-ass!”

“ look at you, dr. smarty-pants.”

“ oh, their loss, our gain.”

“ i feel like i need to give you some kind of signing bonus here.”

“ uh, w- well, i wa- i was gifted these pickles.”

“ now, i don’t think i have to worry about this, but who knows how truly smart you are?”

“ that is a grave no-no.”

“ i wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“ what does dr. smarty-pants say to his/her new bestest friend in the whole wide world?”

“ thank you. fully, completely, sincerely, seriously: thank you.”

“ why don’t you go have some fun?”

“ what the hell am i even looking at?”

“ maybe you should take it easy, ___?”

“ maybe i shouldn’t.”

“ uh, we could play something else. warlords? it’s four players and quite the hoot.”

“ whatever you want. this is your night.”

“ do you want a massage?”

“ while i appreciate the gesture, and your commitment to your assigned objective, i am fully aware that you are not here this evening of your own volition.”

“ video games are all about me showing you a fun time.”

“ would you care for more microwave popcorn?”

“ hey, just because this was ___’s idea doesn’t mean that i don’t want to be here.”

“ i’d be down with just having an intelligent conversation.”

“ well… i suppose a conversation would be acceptable under the current circumstance.”

“ what would you like to talk about?”

“ i could talk about that shit all night.”

“ in all likelihood, even if i could, it would probably escape your comprehension.”

“ did s/he just insult us?”

“ it was not a dis, it was simply a statement of fact.”

“ my intelligence has been objectively measured.”

“ so, what, are you one of those guys who can make a bomb out of bleach and a toothpick or something?”

“ serious as sepsis.”

“ so stupid.”

“ i’m hoping to illustrate the opposite.”

“ did you just make helium out of toilet stuff?”

“ it’s cool. we’re good.”

“ hey, relax. you’re one of us.”

“ can you please just show me some good shit?”

“ i’m gonna light this candle.”

“ no, i mean, i’m gonna light this candle.”

“ i was given to understand that last night’s shinny was supposed to be a singular incident.”

“ i need your help.”

“ you aren’t afforded any… mental-health services?”

“ that would be wildly irresponsible.”

“ we’ll handle that part.”

“ look, i know that this is crazy, and that you barely know me.”

“ i can tell that you are a good person. there’s not many of those left.”

“ truth of the matter is i’m not good. i’m not lawful, neutral or chaotic, none of the above.”

“ are you saying you can’t do it?”

“ lack of ability is not the problem here.”

“ you are good, ___. you have to be.”

“ you kidding?”

“ hey, the line’s a line. what, they don’t have ’em where you come from?”

“ you don’t know how they work?”

“ which means you report directly to my ass.”

“ i didn’t know. we just – we get so many new faces, i didn’t…”

“ i don’t even know what you call this. i’m gonna call it a gremblygunk.”

“ where is s/he?”

“ i killed her/him.”

“ s/he ran away from me right into a mess of dead ones so, i, uh… made it quick.”

“ it still hurts.”

“ feels better with a bandage.”

“ i wasn’t talking about that.”

“ oh, we’ve all done things.”

“ before we got here. before we understood, we were cowards about it.”

“ we don’t- we don’t get to have big hearts. remember that.”

“ wh- what is this?”

“ you are gonna want to pay close attention to this.”

“ i – i didn’t do anything.”

“ i found this little souvenir tucked away in your desk.”

“ i don- i don’t know what that is.”

“ you… left the door open and let my puppy out.”

“ that is some weaselly shit right there.”

“ oh, s/he ran? you know why s/he ran?! because s/he knew i would blame her/him, which i did.”

“ it’s not true. __, s/he’s lying about it. i would never do it.”

“ why? why? why would s/he do that?”

“ why would s/he intentionally try to hurt you?”

“ so, what’s s/he gonna get out of this?”

“ it worked before, and it worked now.”

“ ain’t that right, ___?”

“ please, please, please! oh, jesus, don’t burn me. please! no…!”

“ no, no, please! no! no!”

“ now, you know i hate this shit.”

“ just tell me you did it and that you’re sorry and i won’t have to do this.”

“ yes– yes, i did it. all of it. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

“ please… i’m sorry. please. i’m sorry.”

“ that’s all you had to say.”

“ i trust you, ___. never should’ve doubted ya.”

“ i’m sorry.”

“ ice cold! i love it.”

“ are you all right?”

“ better than that.”

“ you can call next but it might be a while.”

“ i did. but you can’t have ‘em.”

“ do not insult my intelligence.”

“ said pills aren’t for __, said pills are for __. that’s why you wanted two.”

“ didn’t s/he kill your friends?”

“ turnabout and all that.”

“ you’re replaceable to him/her. i, on the other hand, am not.”

“ you’re a coward.”

“ that is a correct assessment.”

“ may i come in?”

“ so, how you liking it here?”

“ are we doing right by dr. smarty-pants?”

“ it’s all right. i get it.”

“ i know how hard it can be to accept change to get on the right team.”

“ i need you to understand something. i do not make this invitation to anyone. and i sure as shit do not make it lightly.”

“ hey… hey! you don’t need to be scared anymore.”

“ you don’t need to be scared. you just need to answer me one question. and it’s a big one.”

“ hey, be careful with that.”

“ hey, you want to get burnt by molten metal? ‘cause that’s exactly how you get burnt by molten metal.”

“ you on board?”

“ i am. just like you.”

[outlaste-a]

he is — and will always be — my phantom limb.

[outlaste-a]

temporary sideblog to get back into the swing of writing. by joseph. main blog is doomprep.

harrison morgan, dexter. peter hayes, divergent. thg verse available (72nd hunger games victor, competitor in the quarter quell). joshua graham, fallout. chris manawa, ftwd. crazy dog, ftwd. luciana galvez, ftwd. nick clark, ftwd. gale hawthorne, thg. jesse, tlou. jordan, tlou. rosita espinosa, twd. test. sasha williams, twd. david garcia, twdg. lilly, twdg. luke, twdg. mitch, twdg. marlon, twdg. rafe adler, uncharted. javi martinez, yellowjackets.