sparrowmoore-archive

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rainfms​:

        raina smiled. she truly meant no harm, but she could understand how the first part of that could come off a little wrong. just a lesson of her needing to truly think about what she was going to say before actually saying it out loud, because that phrasing was a little… poor.        “ well, you did a good job! ‘kill bill’ never crossed my mind once. ” raina praised, nodding her head. was raina proud of her costume this year? well, to put it lightly, she was proud of how it came out — the dress, the halo above her head, her pigtails, and her makeup. however, she felt as if her own costume choice was extremely basic. unfortunately for her, nothing really came to mind when it came to choosing her costume! she blanked completely. and now look, all these creative things were coming to mind when she already had her costume finalized, picked out, and worn: a wrestler, one of the many final girls from a horror movie, a character from a movie or a show (just like sparrow was). she could only hope that when halloween comes back around next year, she’d be more prepared for it. “ i’ve tried a few out. i haven’t done any of the mazes, yet, but i have done ‘the lab’ and it’s pretty good. ”

“ i think you did a pretty good job too . i didn’t want to go too overboard , y’know ?? it might’ve stopped me from enjoying the festivities if i had a huge costume bumping into everybody every five minutes . this year , i think it’s best to go a little simple , “ jutting out their lower lip , dark eyes coasted over the peaks of tents , over the text of signs and arrows marking the various attractions . cocking a brow and gesturing to the circus tent , they questioned ; “ wanna do the scary clown one ?? the circus of screams ?? how are you with creepy jesters ?? “ there wasn’t much that scared sparrow when it came to halloween ; they had seen fear first-hand , the glint in the eyes of somebody kissing their life goodbye . it was why they were more inclined to explore the jovial horrors , those that were removed from the reality of cocking a gun and aiming it at the forehead of somebody that was once held dear . silly mirrors and men in costumes seemed like child’s play in comparison . “ if you’re terrified you can just get behind me . i’ll show them who’s boss , “ sparrow in themself should have been one of the scare actors , no makeup needed — the moore reputation preceded them wherever they went , infamous in the realms of roswell for being the bottom of the pile , for being a family to steer clear of .

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tash-manian-devil​:

Massoud wasn’t sure what he was doing, they had been so ready to play their revenge on Sparrow, to hurt them and ensure they knew how much pain she had been in. But now he was here, now they were in front of her, and all her feelings were so meshed up and fucked that she barely knew how to breathe. Was that was they wanted? To go home with Sparrow, to hug them, to lay close to them, till there was no clear sign of where he started and they stopped. This melting together that neither of them had experienced since. 

They breathed in through their nose and their eyes fluttered over Sparrow’s face, trying to find the lie there. Then they struck out with an offer, taking him by surprise, this offer of showing them his new fancy life, this offer of them wanting to have anything to do with him. Because that had been a fear, that they would’ve wanted to walk away again, that this meeting would mean something in the moment, but once they had disconnected again, things would go back to the same old. And that was something he couldn’t handle, he couldn’t handle the idea of losing them again, of this all meaning nothing. Because it meant so much to her, it meant so much to her whole being, and she couldn’t be the only one hurt. “Let me show you my fancy new life,” she said, almost begging.

it said it all that they had stayed pure . sparrow felt that , if they had spent a night in the bed of anybody else , the calloused fingertips of their lover would be layered over , forgotten beneath scripture written atop of the promises and vows of the one person they had ever felt safe beside . in that moment , their mind was a scribble on a page — they were simultaneously home and lost , protected and damn near terrified , standing in the shadow of a figure they had thought was long lost to history . as they walked , toe against dirt , sparrow eventually piped up ; “ do you prefer it ?? this new life ?? away from .. them , “ them being the gang . them being the insanity they had grown to expect . them being the double-crossers , the backstabbers , the traitors , the miscreants that had scattered at the first sign of trouble and left the couple to sever in order to keep on living .

there was a reluctance in the scrape of their boot against tarmac , and yet before they were aware of it they were moving . it was as though they were a ghost caught in the wind . they whirled through the air , close enough to tash that onlookers would consider them a pair , however keeping a side-step away . boundaries were something that sparrow had always kept close and yet , upon meeting the stranger in the texas plains , had abandoned just as quickly as they had thrown away their family , their past life , and everything they had ever known . it had been so easy to surrender familiarity with the promise of something greater ; they should have known that diamonds were never promised . 

[sparrowmoore-archive]

ALEXANDRA DOWLING & EMMA MACKEY

Emily | People + Entertainment Weekly TIFF Studio 2022

[sparrowmoore-archive]

talonayaz​:

“was any of that in the form of a question?” talon asked, mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “course not. lemme in, trebeck. really – i’m a strong breeze from dropping literally everything.” the crack in the door sparrow had left was morn than enough, talon shouldering in like her name was on the deed – behavior she had exhibited for decades past. she’d known the place, she thought, in the same way sparrow knew hers. which bit of the floor by the hallway had pulled up the last time they’d gotten a fair bit of rain, the way talon’s bedroom door had never settled properly back into frame after a fourteen year old tantrum that had been rewarded with the thing behind taken off the hinges as punishment, only for the ayaz family to realize the hinges were warped, and the damned thing was never going to close properly again.

that was the kind of knowledge that was earned, and not so easily relented, even with time. it was shit you just knew, regardless of how long it had been. the only person in roswell who knew which windows in the ayaz trailer had never properly latched – knowledge that was hard-earned. the two of them sneaking around after curfew, poking and prodding for any entryway that didn’t announce the very teenage offense of staying out late and talking until the sun had long since dipped below the horizon. 

talon unceremoniously dropped both pumpkins just inside their home, flexing her fingers like carrying them a few hundred feet had been an american gladiator task. the case of beers, however, were placed down delicately, with more care than she’d given to the things that could actually bruise. “thank you talon, for saving me from a very boring night,” she said, her voice a terrible imitation of sparrow’s. “i know, you’d be lost without me. you’re welcome.” her tone then, a graceless, and somehow even worse, version of her own, all grins and too much sincerity to actually be sincere. “so i had a pumpkin carving kit, but it was like, safe for five and under dull. i’m trusting you with real weapons, moore, and if you lose a finger, you don’t get to blame me. consider this my moral deniability clause. i came inside already, and we’re running on vampire rules – this shit is legally binding. we can, however, carve them on the porch – because we’re classy. i’m leaving it up to you whether we shotgun a beer before in anticipation, or after in celebration. i’m very generous,” she offered, challenging grin curving her lips as she nudged the case newly place on the floor with her boot.

over the years , that modest trailer hadn’t changed a lick ; carpet was the same coffee-brown , a seventies shag that was both criminally outdated and damaged beyond any kind words through gritted teeth . cigarette burns pocked the ground , synthetic fabric melted into clumps that clung to the bottom of sparrow’s soles if they were caught short in the middle of the night . the wallpaper , floral and climbing those four walls , was mottled with the kiss of the sun , bleached in horizontal lines from the slats of half-open blinds . with their mother on her last legs , counting the days until she bid their mortal world goodbye , it was a bittersweet realisation that all that would be sparrow’s — if only they had the money to tear out the dated cabinets , to smash through rotten wood , to turn the trailer into the post-punk display of their dreams .

instead it stood as a time capsule , an airstream that time forgot . they were sure talon could trace every detail from memory after those long nights tucked away in sparrow’s single bed , shooting back liquor and smoking cigarettes out a cocked window . as much as they tried , their efforts to mask that nicotine smell with swirling tea lights proved futile . stepping back to allow talon entry , they barely hesitated as their counterpart made the lounge area their own — it had been for years , a secondary sanctuary away from the horrors of their dust bowl town .

“ i don’t thank anybody , “ a meaningless vow , an arbitrary rule alongside the rest of the laws they lived by ; questionable morals marred their life and yet , in the same vein , kept them safe from manipulation . they had been used once before , a naive child running from the familiar welcomed into the arms of the criminal . now , their terminal case of resting-bitch-face may have spurned potential friendships , but it acted as armour from a repeat of history . talon was one of the few that saw through the facade , that knew firsthand of the sweetness imprisoned behind racoon-like eyeliner and a scornful expression . “ you think i’m gonna settle for craft knives ?? you should be the one counting your blessings , not me , “ for their life in texas , a whirlwind of crimes both petty and federal , had prepared them for any sort of knife work , innocent or otherwise , “ let’s crack open a beer while we’re at it . it could either totally fuck up our designs or elevate them to the next level . you got any idea what you wanna carve ?? “

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gaelsalazar​:

 SOME  NOSY  FUCKER  IN  THE  trailer  park  had  once  said  gael  was  a  hermit,  only  ever  leaving  the  confines  of  his  home  for  work  or  when  absolutely  needed.  and  they  were  right.  the  fact  he  was  seen  at  the  festival  of  all  places  should  be  a  surprise  for  those  who  came  to  know  him  in  the  time  he’s  been  settled  in  roswell.  a  brief  snort  leaves  his  nostrils,  moving  to  face  his  new  company.  “don’t  usually  like  to  work  with  other  people  but  might  be  feelin’  generous  tonight.  how  do  you  suggest  we  start  about  this  murder  fest?  choppin’  up  some  kids  or  some  old  ladies?”  he  humors  them.

it was the nature of living in such close proximity to people . even if you were the kind of solitary human that wished to live in total seclusion , it was barely possible to go a day or two without running into a familiar face , without having the neighbour banging down your screen door to borrow sugar or fuel in an act of desperation . sparrow was one that would choose isolation over company on any given day , but how could they refuse the offer of complete and total carnage ?? “ i’d say we go for the people who wouldn’t be missed , those on the periphery , “ they suggested , knowing full well they would have slotted comfortably into such a category if they hadn’t volunteered to aid in the imaginary spookfest of their own , “ — or we could just start at the bar . “ 

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victoriaadsuar​:

waking up in the trailer park isn’t entirely unfamiliar territory. she’d spent a good chunk of high school couch surfing around the place, living out of a threadbare jansport and bouncing between friends’ houses to avoid going home. though while not exactly out of character, it definitely feels regressive. the youthful defiance that used to drive her here isn’t wearing quite as well, the circles under her eyes and general wariness calling her intentions into question. back then recklessness for recklessness’ sake was a right of passage but now it just kind of seems like a cry for help. why the fuck is she pulling the exact same shit she did back then? jeans, baggier than they used to be, slide up her legs effortlessly, phone and i.d. still tucked in the pocket alongside a now-empty baggie that she lets flutter to the ground before before breezing through the door. “fuck,” comes the immediate groan against the sun, though not even two seconds outside and it’s still not the first f-bomb to go off. she tugs the drawstrings of her hoodie just in time for sparrow to notice her and by the time they march forward, her face is tightly framed. “uh… no?” she manages, barely understanding the question. “fuck, what time is it? isn’t it a little early to be like, yelling?” 

for a moore , there wasn’t a time limit on anger . it was a hereditary disease , passed through triple-helixes , down the generational rungs ; if sparrow woke up without a seething , unquenchable urge to smash crockery or permanently damage a listed building they knew there was something seriously wrong . perhaps their previous life , one characterised by petty crime , sly drug deals , a questionable love and ‘ peers ‘ that had it out for them from the beginning was better suited to somebody like sparrow , an individual marked from their moment of birth with the curse of being good for nothing , of being the dirt on roswell’s shoe . from previous run-ins — the majority of those orbiting victoria’s less-than-desirable habits , and sparrow’s less-than-legal skill to supply — they threw their arms down to their sides in defeat . there was no way , with a hood shrouding the majority of her peripheral vision , that victoria had any idea who had swiped the gas , or was privy to any of the other shady activities that the blanket of tripp’s trailer park allowed . a lawless stretch of land , arriving through the squeaking door of their home upon an evening was akin to busting the swinging doors of an old saloon ; guns cocked , stetson tipped , ready for war . “ it’s time for me to have breakfast , but it looks as though i’ll have to settle for starving half to death . “

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rainfms​:

         “ it was definitely a compliment. ” she exclaimed, nodding her head. raina wasn’t sure if sparrow paid attention to the second part of it, the party where she literally said ‘you look great’, but she could sorta tell the other was caught off guard with how upfront she was. that’s just how raina was, unfortunately. she felt brave, so she complimented sparrow. “ ah… ” she nodded her head, looking down at her shoes as she played with the ends of her hair a little bit, letting them go when it was her turn to speak. “ swans don’t have a ‘halo’ above their heads, at least, i don’t think they do. ” she gently poked her ‘halo’ with her finger. “ i’m an angel. these are angel wings off of amazon. ” she turned to the side, being mindful to back up a little bit so that her wings wouldn’t hit sparrow, but that sparrow could get a good look, before she turned back to face the other. “ i had a little trouble thinking of something creative this year. ” she nodded her head.

the tiniest of smirks could be discovered at the corner of their lips . it had been a long time since a true , genuine , kind compliment had worked from one mouth to theirs — perhaps that was why they were so wary of it , rigid in an embedded ‘ fight or flight ‘ response that , in their new life , was no longer needed . being so used to carnage , to animosity , to offence , it was both a shock and a pleasant delight when kindness could be spied , and that was saying something for roswell . “ an angel . i totally got it , “ they responded , retracting their previous ( and intentionally narrow-minded ) perspective , “ i think it’s plenty creative . i mean , all i really did was squeeze into a yellow catsuit and smear blood over myself . i’m relying on my face card for the rest of it , “ they never did make the most effort . it was usually some sort of pop culture reference , scrapbooked together from old clothes or garments bought from better off duds to stay within a slim budget . either way , sparrow would always make an effort to turn up to such events , even if they stayed in the corner , merely observing . “ have you tried out any of the attractions yet ?? i don’t know how good i’d be at the mazes , but the lab looks pretty fun . “

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birdiecannon​:

There’s little in the way of secrecy when it comes to Sparrow’s abhorrence at the Cannon three. While Birdie might not understand the extent of it– nor the specificities of its source –he knows well enough to keep himself out of their way: There’s enough revulsion to be endured in the eyes of his peers when they spot him coming along, wheeling his lonely janitor’s cart down the vastness of Roswell Mall.

While it tends to be easy to duck behind his big brother’s boisterous flamboyance, Striker isn’t here to play the distraction in Birdie’s disappearing act. He’s tense, then, when that piercing gaze slices deep into his core, rendering his chest tight and his stomach tighter still, bordering on upset. Birdie pulls a shaky breath into his lungs as one might try to tug their reluctant dog into the bathtub. “Bless your heart, Moore,” he returns, though with far less satisfaction in knowing they’re practically exchanging insults. 

“ bless me ?? pfft — i could’ve done with that a long time ago . looks like you could do with some blessing yourself  ; does that make it two brothers that are paid to clean up shit all day ?? “ the only difference being that birdie’s to-do list was catered to the human kind , whereas striker favoured the bovine . they could hardly talk ; although they enjoyed their profession on the surface , the payouts were meagre to say the least . it was only a matter of time before petty theft and slight-of-hand drug deals stopped keeping them afloat , and what then ?? a part-time gas station job , perhaps , or instead they could allow the curse of a life of serious crime to envelope them in a dark shroud . falling back into the lavish life was all too tempting .. but then , what would their mother think ??

they wondered how it must be , without a mother . their time with the moore matriarch was slowly ticking away , and yet they hadn’t seemed to acknowledge it further than a glance at her last will and testament , narrowing their eyes until they focused on their name and , more importantly , the assets bestowed to them . expectedly , it wasn’t much — certainly not enough to live on — but what of that gaping hole that would be left once she was gone ?? what would happen to the siblings once the final web snapped and forced them to scatter away from nods in the street and occasional family gatherings . turning to continue their ‘ shopping ‘ spree they paused , half-turning on their heels , “ you guys get on real well with each other , don’t you ?? you and the other stinkers , “ 

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there were plenty of reasons why the moore trailer would have been kicked open in the middle of the night , none of them particularly good . as sparrow reluctantly dragged themself from their position on the couch , a dog-eared copy of mrs dalloway in-hand , they theorised the worst ; either their mother had finally bit the dust , they had been caught graffitiing yet another town monument , the texas police department had finally stopped dragging their heels and made a trip outside their jurisdiction , or their ex wanted to ‘ talk ‘ . the past few years of sparrow’s life had spiralled into a criminality they hadn’t asked for and yet , now , was inescapable — flashes of blue lights had them dragging their heels and cowering in back alleys , hoping that taste of freedom would last just a little longer . 

a glance out the curtains confirmed that it wasn’t a police matter , what with the absence of a siren and harsh , demanding voices . instead came a timbre sparrow could recognise anywhere . it was true that their disappearance , their lack of hesitation to leave everything behind and go running into the sunset with somebody they had only just met , had shattered the very few friendships that had bloomed before their departure . it seemed a miracle that talon had stuck around — sparrow had never believed in the divine , but god were they close to it now .

“ okay , okay , chill the fuck out . i’m coming , i’m coming , “ they mumbled , abandoning their book and wiggling open the stiff door to their home . it was the home they had grown up in , the home them and talon had spent many an evening in before , and it seemed tonight was no exception . stepping aside , eyes narrowed in questioning at the bright orange gourds their friend was borderline juggling . “ — i’m guessing i don’t have a choice in the matter ?? “ despite scathing words , there was the twitch of a dimple at their cheek ; how could they ever turn something so special down ??

CLOSED STARTER

who: sparrow moore where: tripp’s trailer park when: vaguely nighttime?? idk man

she was bored, home all of ten minutes, her bowling alley uniform still on, the scent of stale popcorn somehow still in her hair after she was relegated to cleaning out the machine, keys practically still in hand. the smart thing to do would be to shower, and call it a night. but she never was one for the smart thing. talon looked out her window, doing a quick late-night surveillance of whose cars, and who might be home. the first one to catch her attention was sparrow’s – and just as quickly, her decision was made. 

they hadn’t returned to their glory days of ‘just swing by whenever.’ but talon’s existence could be neatly summarized in one sentence – ‘let’s not make it a thing.’ which was a lot like ‘let’s not concern ourselves with consequences,’ but that’s neither here nor there. sparrow was home, and talon wanted company. 

that, and she had an idea. the idea is what led to her traipsing across tripp’s with a pumpkin in each hand, a weird assortment of kitchen knives shoved into her belt loops, and a six-pack tabled precariously on her outstretched forearms. she looked like an unhinged halloween-themed rambo. they were stolen pumpkins, but that was no one’s business but talon’s. it was a bordering on disastrous effort – with no free hands and no way to put anything down with any level of grace, she lodged a few quick kicks to sparrow’s door – wincing when they sounded dangerously like the ‘open up, we have a warrant’ variety. as though it would give them any less of a heart attack, she – too loudly – declared herself with the very detailed, “aye! we’re carving pumpkins. and if you don’t open the door, i’m gonna end up dropping weird shit all over your porch, and i’m not cleaning it up.” 

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these days , dragging sparrow from the depths of their family trailer was quite the feat . if they hadn’t of decided on such a strong costume — dressed ankle to neck in yellow latex , resembling uma thurman from the kill bill franchise — they would’ve likely spent the evening like any other ; holed up in their bedroom with their nose deep in a virginia woolf classic . watching the moment with a cocked brow , their lips tweaked into the smallest of smiles . blink , and you would’ve missed it . “ you need a sidekick for the bloodshed ?? sounds too good not to get involved in . “

LOCATION: shocktober fest! AVAILABILITY: open, @roswellstarters​

 “FUCKIN’  HELL,  MAN.”  gael  complains  as  someone  bumps  into  his  shoulder  for  what  felt  like  the  tenth  time  in  the  last  half  hour  or  so.  all  the  yelling,  running,  food  spilling  and  crazed  kids  high  on  sugar  had  been  putting  him  on  the  worst  mood  of  his  life.  but  he  still  wanted  to  enjoy  some  goddamn  corndogs  at  the  damn  festival.  “if  someone  almost  spill  their  drink  on  me  one  more  time,  i  might  be  inclined  to  turn  this  into  a  real  horror  fest.”

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roswellwinter​:

she’d been settled in for a movie marathon of her favorite slasher series - halloween, naturally - when her phone had rung, and she might have ignored it if it wasn’t for the fact that she wasn’t doing anything particularly important. but something in her made her pick up the phone bringing it to her ear as a faint crease formed between her eyebrows. “sparrow?” she never would have imagined that she’d even show up on the other’s list of people to call, not with how things had fallen apart between them. a year was a long time, to say the least. but the request - maybe it was because she was lonely, and even though sparrow was only reaching out for bail, it felt nice to be needed, and she found herself letting out a noiseless sigh, her eyes drifting shut just a touch. “how much is your bail?” she questioned, eyes opening as she stood up from the couch and shut the tv off, adjusting her leggings before making her way towards the front door to slide her feet into a pair of sneakers. “i’ll be right there.”

a hesitation . speaking to their friend , or ex-friend , felt like sucking on a sour candy ; at first it stung , burning their lips to blisters , but as they came back into the soft tone of the blonde , welcomed back into a friendship they had bitterly missed , the sweetness began to sink through the pain . “ i only have a few minutes . “ was their answer , as though that were enough to convince the other to come to their aid . what did the money matter , anyway , now that they had crossed the line in the sand , now that they had attempted to pick up the pieces of their friendship and haphazardly glue them back together . as much as it pained them , they began a “ thank y — “ before their minute was cut off with a scathing click , plunging the moore sibling back into a acidic silence . there they sat , like a child being called to the principle’s office , with their black-painted fingertips wrung together , glancing up whenever the door was opened in the hope they would spy their friend . through the bars they soon focused on the blonde , expressionless , emotionless . “ hello , ma’am , “ spoke the officer behind the counter , “ and what can we do you for this evening ?? “ 

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kayahq​:

They couldn’t be more different, yet whatever it was about the lemon-bitter sting of parental neglect bridged the canyons cutting between them, giving the pair a wobbly path to meet somewhere halfway. Somewhere liminal: Kaya would have never imagined herself watching the seconds burn down to the rolled up ‘filter’ sitting in Sparrow’s hold, the burning blunt marking time’s idle drifting in rivulets of tangy smoke.

“I know, like, one of those,” Kaya snorts. Meaning that Sparrow’s most likely already judging her, viciously. It’s times like these that Kaya’s apathy comes in handy; she shoots the other a hazy-gazed grin, casual, easy, uncaring. “Uhh… Sweatpants, Gambino, and then… You Go To My Head, but it has to be the Billie Holiday version, hands down. And last but not least, uh…” Kaya shoots out a sharp, pensive breath. It takes her a second longer, but she finally lands on, “Get Into It, Doja Cat. C’mon. Those are good! Like, there’s a fun little range there!”

“ doja cat ?? jesus , give me strength .. “ not that they believed in any higher power , not anymore . what kind of benevolent overseer could allow them true love only for it to be ripped away ?? what kind of a god could allow for their mother to fall so ill at the very moment all their babies finally came home to roost ?? it was sick , twisted , a fun little game — if there was somebody up there , calling the shots and pulling the strings , they were were one fucked up individual . subscribing to the ideology that they were alone in the world had allowed sparrow to act as though there was no consequences , both in the material world and the heavenly ; if they ever stepped foot back into the adjoining state they wouldn’t have long before they tasted cold , hard repercussions for their actions . 

having everything stripped away from them , a tablecloth beneath a set-up of fine china , sparrow found solace in their high-and-mighty music taste , believing they were superior for listening to nineties noise . what else did they have as leverage to make themself feel as though they weren’t dirt upon a shoe , as though they were something more than a statistic or the town’s token fuck up ?? “ you have to have listened to green day , soundgarden .. ?? or am i speaking a different language ?? “ 

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sparrow’s brows furrowed at the sudden interruption to their solitude . they had expected , just like every other event the town had held thus far , that they would occupy some liminal space on the sidelines , idly puffing a cigarette and doing what they did best — observing . instead they watched raina with a questioning gaze , eyeing their costume from head to toe . “ so what does that mean , two different types of people ?? is that some sort of thinly veiled insult , or are you trying to compliment me ?? “ they weren’t sure whether either was welcomed but , with a tut , they answered , “ i’m quite literally the main character of kill bill . i’ve heard people say i kinda look like uma thurman , so .. “ a shrug of their shoulders , neither an agreement nor a disagreement , merely an acknowledgment that it had been a cheap and relatively low-stakes costume to bring to the gathering , “ and are you , like , a swan , or something ?? “ 

location: spooktober fest 2022

closed starter for: sparrow moore ( @sparrowmoore​ )

      “ there are two different types of people during halloween: there’s me, and then there’s you. ” raina exclaimed, walking towards sparrow slowly as she held onto the end of her pigtails. angel’s and someone from ‘kill bill’ were on two different sides of the spectrum. so far, the brunette-haired ‘angel’ had seen costumes ranging from a simple jeans, t-shirt- and headband, to those like sparrow who had actually taken the time to dress up and go all out for the occasion. “ you look great. i’ve only seen ‘kill bill’, like… once, but i definitely know you’re dressed as someone from it. ” she tapped her chin with her manicured index finger. “ i just don’t know who… mind giving me a hint? ” she smiled, looking at sparrow.

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tash-manian-devil​:

Massoud watched them closely, a face filled with distrust at the comments. Not that he didn’t trust them, he simply didn’t want to believe them. That they wished for a better life for him, that they had always thought she deserved better, deserved more than whatever life revolved around now. But it did, and she was always finding herself with one foot in the grave, hoping for it all to end but also fighting to continue. She didn’t want better, she wanted her past, she wanted Sparrow. 

Gritting his teeth together, he listened without reacting, waiting for them to finish whatever they wanted to say to them, watching all these emotions, and wishing to put a halt to them. He had the intention of screaming, but Sparrow made him stop in his tracks, the words lingering on his tongue, feeling like a thousand needles. He shook his head violently. “Row,” he said, voice laced with anger, as he pulled them back towards him. All his muscles were tense, his eyes hurt. “Don’t run away from me again.”

sparrow’s toes scraped against tarmac . brows fell , furrowed in the middle , as their arm was ripped away . despite them being only a slight thing , they were once again up close against tash — a silent warning , the way a moth would spread its wings to display a skull in their wings , that fucking with them would end in a new kind of scathing bullet , one that would cause irreperable damage that time . “ what do expect me to do , stand here until we frost over or become another one of those huge alien things ?? i didn’t think so . i can’t do anything , i can’t make this better , and you sure as hell can’t come back to my trailer . my mom would tear you down before you even stepped through the door . “

once upon a time , a life where tash could be introduced to their mother was a utopia not too far away . they would dine as a family , she would meet emmett , and shiloh , and rollo , and they could start anew , passing on the moore-tehari name without the generational baggage . now , such a thing was a playground game ; how could sparrow ever imagine them and tash creating a life between them with any semblance of normality , with any order or understanding or , god forbid , peace ?? “ unless you want to show me your fancy new life .. “ the life he had created in the absence of sparrow , in the whole they had left , in the little death that remains when a relationship crumbles .

[sparrowmoore-archive]

breannesamaya​:

“Yeah like the dirt in the ground. You know how there’s water quality specialists? Well imagine that but for the ground. It ranges from things like taking care of wetlands, to a lot of agricultural jobs to hazardous waste cleanup. Which means, depending on your job outlook, a lot of travel, but thankfully it pays well.” She would be lying if she said she wasn’t in it for the money. The field of study was interesting, but work was work. She needed a new car and had no plans on staying in that apartment complex for the rest of her life. “I have to disappoint you because recently I had to tone it down. Getting kicked out of college is not going to get me that sweet twenty three dollar an hour job. In my heyday, I once learned California Girls by Katy Perry, because this kid was being a dick. I was their favorite verbal punching bag so I punched back. I made sure to find an excuse to sing it, or listen to it as loudly as possible. Eventually they avoided me like the plague.” 

as they conversed , sparrow was more and more convinced that their decision to pin their entire livelihood on love and risk had been the correct one . sure , they were far from rich , and were they happy ?? well , that was a conversation for another time . above all , though , they were free from shackles , ready to up and leave the world behind the moment their mother sadly succumbed to the ailments which had been slowly draining her consciousness for the last few years . it would be easier , when they could leave beneath the cover of moonlight and sever the threads tying them to their family which were dangling , bare , ready to snap at any given moment . each argument and disagreement moved the moore’s closer and closer into disrepair . “ not many wetlands here in roswell , you know , “ was their invaluable two-cents , their off-hand comment which was worth little more than the very dirt breanne was discussing , “ and there must be something you can do to step outside your comfort zone , your day to day .. live a little . go into that store — “ a gesture to a convenience store on the corner , “ — and grab me something . anything . just throw it in your pocket and walk straight back out again . “ 

[sparrowmoore-archive]

[sparrowmoore-archive]

roswell town hall !  ( closed for — @nixrsing​ )

you’ve heard of painting the town red , but painting the town green ?? that was a different story . sparrow’s backpack was weighted with paint cans clacking together at the bottom , buffered between stencils and scrawled designs , as they traced roswell backstreets , them and nix trying — with all their might — to look as unsuspicious as possible . being a moore meant that such an act was near impossible ; even with temporarily clean hands , they would be the first suspect for desecrating one of roswell’s iconic buildings or alien-shaped totems . slowing down at the side of the town hall , their lips twisted into a dimpled smirk before turning to nix , an unmistakable glint in racoon-eyeliner eyes . “ we’ll start here , “ they announced , shrugging off the loop of their backpack to allow hands to rifle through the selection of green paints , “ — you want a stencil , or are you going freestyle ?? “