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*alaska thunderfuck voice* byyeeee

Heeeeey, so I’ve been MIA and it’s because my life is as busy as anyone’s, I guesssss. Yeah, anyway, I’ve been trying to get the inspiration for William back, but I just don’t think it’s happening. The finale put a nail in the coffin, and even though I wrote him a new backstory... I don’t know, it makes sense but it’s not inspiring. SO, if anyone still wants to interact or rp with me or whatever, I’ll be at my mulit-muse OC ( @inthehouseofflies ) blog. Warning: it’s dark and gross stuff so D: I’m sorrry.

It was private before, so the character pages aren’t up or finished, but yeaaaaaaah, I’m active there with mostly one person *coughglitzycough*. Thanks for entertaining my weird Billy. RIP my babe. lol

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Okay, so here’s one of the two main verses I’ve worked out for William. This one is “ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ɪ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ” and the other is “ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ”. Going to clean up the other verse as well as his backstory tomorrow. :) So I’m kind of under construction until I get them all worked out, update his about and rules and all that jazz, but it’s coming along! x)

He woke before the others, empty bottle in hand, with his head on Logan’s arm. The blurry world became clear after a moment of blinking and staring at his brother-in-law’s sleeping face. Out cold. His breath reeked of bourbon and warmed William’s face. To think what they’d been before it all; to think what they might’ve been if they’d stayed in Sweetwater, playing nice until their time ran up; to think William would be that same, masked man he arrived. 

William was careful not to move too fast or make a noise loud enough to wake Logan… or the rest of them. They were everywhere, the uniformed-men lying like rag dolls wherever there was a cot or body to touch, and even where there wasn’t. Were his mind not spinning wildly in his head, were his heart not throbbing, aching more than it ever had, he might’ve come to wonder how Logan came to lead them all. But Logan, Logan’s sister, Logan’s company, and everything about Logan was as far his mind as he was.

He took nothing but food, water, and a horse, then turned his sights on the direction a bleeding Dolores had run with Confederado goons in tow. Maybe she fought them off – he’d seen her take out men with unpredictable ability before – all while holding her parts in place. P A R T S. William squeezed his eyes shut tight and opened them to a blurry world again. He tried not to remember. He tried not to picture wires where there ought to be veins; metal where there ought to be bone; some sturdy, new-age plastic where there ought to be muscle; but the image couldn’t be erased, the one Logan forced him to see.

For days, William searched. He traced the paths of boots in the dirt until weather faded and eventually erased them. He retraced every step he took with Dolores, followed the railroad tracks, and escaped by the hair on his chin after encountering natives and bandits. He killed without thinking. There was no room to think about anything if it wasn’t Dolores.

And then he found her…

He arrived in Sweetwater a week later. His clothes hung awkwardly on his skinny frame. His eyes drooped with heavy, dark bags, and his cheekbones were more prominent than they’d ever been. Every step shot a pain through his legs and into his hips. Breathing felt like a constant series of sighs, as if someone blanketed his lungs with a hot, wet towel. But there she was, beautiful as the first day he saw her.

With her blond hair pulled back so that every inch of her face could be seen… Her eyes bright and smile so open… She looked e x a c t l y as she did the day they met. A gentle line formed between his eyes as he looked on. She dropped a can. A man came – a man that was not William, but like him – to pick it up. William’s mouth slowly opened. He wanted to shout at her, run to her, distract her from guest with his eyes on his Dolores, and confirm his highest hopes. But he waited. Despite the fact that he’d traveled for a week, thinking of nothing but her, he waited and watched.

He followed quietly behind, at enough distance that she might not notice him. She stopped near the river, where the sun hit just right, and lit her up like an angel. William dismounted uneasily from his horse and stumble-walked through the wildflowers and long grass. The sun hurt his eyes, but they still opened on her.

 “Dolores,” he said in a whisper, half a question. Paint brush in hand, she turned to him and smiled. William smiled too. “Dolores…” Before she could get out a word, he came toward her, his arms open. He didn’t realize the confusion in her face. He didn’t look for it. Didn’t want to. He enveloped her in his arms and shoved his face into her hair. Clean, soft, warm. But he enjoyed the relief, the overwhelming satisfaction and sense of belonging, for but a second. Her arms shoved at him, pushing him. Shouts of protest rang in his ears. In a daze, he pulled back and looked at her. His brows dug into his wide, searching eyes. Confusion. Dread seeped through every pore of his face and warped his expression.

“Dolores, it’s… it’s me.” William tried to smile, but reality was swiftly sinking in. A small part of him already knew. It’d always known.

“I don’t know you!” She was stepping back. Leaving. No. He couldn’t let her. She had to remember. The gap between them was closed again. She tried to run but he caught her by the arm. She screamed and slammed a fist against him, but he didn’t feel it. They struggled. He wrestled her to the ground until she could do nothing but squirm beneath him and look into his watery, red eyes.

“Dolores, please,” he begged. She screamed for help. “Dolores…” he repeated. Every word was kinder, gentler, more insistent than the last. “R-remember, Dolores? The train… the things we said… You’re different. You’re different from the rest. I’m different.” The screaming and writhing wouldn’t stop. She wasn’t listening. What thick and honest tenderness was in him twisted into frustration.

“LISTEN.” His fingers curled in her hair, tightened, and pinned it to the trampled wildflowers beneath her. She stared in silence, tears rolling down her temples and into the grass. 

“I saw you... and you saw me. I don’t care about the parts- about the-… Dolores, you changed me. You’re like me. Different. D i f f e r e n t.” Desperation. His tears fell in thick drops onto her cheeks and mixed with hers. “No pretending...” William lowered his face until his lips brushed hers. “No more pretending…” And he kissed her.

He felt only teeth, only a scream behind them. No. No, no, no. The hands that contained her left to instead control her face. She would kiss him back. She would remember what she did to him. And he pushed his mouth on hers again and again. As many times, he was rejected until, finally, her eyes opened up at him, and his at her. But her eyes flickered quickly over his shoulder. Fear turned to hope. A hand on his shoulder. William cranked his neck to see none other than…

Logan. No anger. No resentment. Pity, at best. Logan looked at him.

William trembled from head to toe, and looked down at Dolores in distress, in fear, in pain because of him. “Please, help me…” She was saying it to Logan. Logan who handed her to a gang of groping, drunk killers. Logan whom she despised. Logan who pushed a blade through her gut and made William look at her mechanical innards. She smiled - however weakly - at Logan.

The world around him became like a slowly turning painting. Not real. Not real. He pushed away from her, took a few steps away, and sank back onto his rear in the grass. Dolores breathed a hushed and cry-strangled “thank you”, abandoned her work, and was soon nothing more than a speck of blue atop a horse in the distance.

The remaining days at Westworld weren’t spent among the hosts, but where only flesh and blood moved about, enjoying all the luxuries of the modern world. Logan arranged for them to spend four days and three nights at the Mesa Gold instead of just the one. It was clear to everyone who took one look at William, that he needed time to adjust. William spent the first two days drinking in his hotel room. He drank and drank until he vomited, then he vomited until there was nothing left to toss up. A night spent on a cold, bathroom floor seemed to do some good, if one called sleeping for twelve hours straight good. Then, he ate the blandest meals and watched the most pointless movies Logan could get from management. The pair of them – Logan and William – never once talked about all that’d happened. And William was grateful for it.

On the fourth day, William looked akin to the one that walked off the train nearly a month ago. Clean shaven, hair styled, suit fitting close to the way it should… he seemed a man of business, though his eyes didn’t match his smiles. Perhaps they never did.

When they arrived home, Juliette begged Logan and William to spend time at her parents’ home (where she still lived). It’d been so long since they’d all been together, and she argued that they owed her some quality time before the wedding. Only, when they arrived, Juliette quickly read through their facades. Something happened to them, something that she was afraid to ask about. Logan’s and Juliette’s parents visited only for a moment, due for a business trip in New York, leaving the trio alone.

They were quiet, mostly, and Juliette took extra care of them each. William knew it was eating her up. She looked at them with fear and curiosity. She wanted badly to know, and he nearly told her several times. He wanted to tell her. Truly, he did. He wanted to confess that he was in love with someone who could never love him back, not really… not for long. He wanted to call off their wedding. They both knew it was a lie.

But he didn’t go through with any of it. It was selfish to do that to her, but without Logan and Juliette and the company, what life did he have? And – though he didn’t dare admit it – William wanted to go back. He couldn’t if he didn’t have them.

William is currently in a loveless marriage with Juliette. He goes back to Westworld for “business reasons” once or twice a year, where he spends his free time observing Dolores and wishing he could undo his undeniable feelings for her. Once in a great while, he spends time with her, but it only hurts him. He’s stuck in the constant struggle of what’s real versus what he wants to be real.

He hopes to find deeper meaning in his obsession with Dolores and with Westworld, like she or it will teach him some grand lesson, but the lesson’s already been given. He just refuses to look it in the face.

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  @dcvilsbackbone said (x) and it wouldn’t fit in the ask box.

Okay, so let me start this off by saying even if I WASN’T your best friend of ten years outside tumblr and role playing, I believe I’d still possess the same opinion. So, Logan. Logan is an easy character to take at face value, to play as a dashing bad boy, as ballin’ as he is horny (very), but you do him a world of justice. You see through the obvious and take note of the small, unmentioned, unsung bits of his personality and give them a reason for being there at all. Many don’t understand that every personality trait of a (human) character comes from somewhere: some event, some series of events, someone, something. Nothing is just there because it manifested out of thin air. He didn’t shoot out the womb winking and fucking and loving the way he does. Logan is full of ‘why’s and ‘how’s, and you answered all of them when you could easily leave it to the imagination.  My favorite part of your portrayal with Logan is how you manage to bring more to the table which wasn’t given in the show without making him feel like he isn’t Logan anymore. I hear his voice in all of the dialogue you write for him, and the total plausibility in all his actions. You didn’t stamp a trope across his forehead and call it a day, and he’s such an easy character to do that with. 

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Hey, everyone! So, I'm dropping all my threads (save one w/Logan), because I feel like a fresh start will definitely be needed once I get a chance to sit down and really re-think and fully flesh out where I’m coming from and going with William. If anyone has any ideas they maybe wanted to explore with William (and I guess MiB), I’m always open to plotting!

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Happy munday! <3

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                 I was seven when  they rode into my town.  Masked men in DEVILS’ horns.                  They killed everyone — women, children, even the animals. They gutted                  my mother from her jaw to her sex.  I had to paint her  warm blood  over my                  skin  to make  sure that  they would think  I was dead.  Every one  of them I                  tracked down, I used their blood to paint my skin again. 

                                         Only one man left.

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                                  i’m sure teddy would do anything for you. 

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Oh, darling, I am just getting started. independent, semi-selective role-play blog for logan from hbo's westworld written by glitzy

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guess what motherfucker? #notdead

shit. shitshitshitshit... HEY, GREAT GAME, HUH BUDDY. WOW. GEE WIZ. SURE WAS CRAZY

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"William may be a titan of industry outside the park, but his playing field in here has been leveled. Considerably. He sought to traverse the maze and time will tell if he’s truly prepared to meet what’s at the center.”

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Okay, no. One more thing… I’m just having such a time wrapping my head around where they went with William’s character. You’re telling me that after that click - that turn in William’s psyche - we saw last episode, and all the demented things he did after (as seen in the finale) end with him going back to the real world and carrying on? Logan undoubtedly would’ve had his father’s favor and not even this new “woke” William would’ve been able to talk his way out of everything. (And don’t get me started on Logan surviving the naked on a horse thing, because while in the real world, that would’ve been death by elements for sure, in Westworld, there are setups in place to protect guests from fates like these.) I wanted to see more heartbreak in William when he sees Dolores reset, versus this realization that “oh my world is a game too”, and so he’s able to be boss as shit and take over Delos.

How the fuck did he manage to go BACK into the real world and marry Juliette despite the fact that their relationship wasn’t even genuine to begin with and then, upon his return, he’s all scary (because MIB talks about how his wife was always afraid he was gonna lose it, which causes her, eventually, to end her own life) on top of that???  Then he keeps going BACK to WW for years, eventually (starting 2 years prior to the main story-line) doing all kinds of fucked up shit to find MEANING in it all, in all this SHIT that changed his life, altered him entirely… and when he finds N O T H I N G of meaning to him in the center… you’re telling me he just gets pissed at the banquet and that’s it? A man who dedicated his life to this park… who ruined a marriage… a relationship with his only child…  who did unspeakable things (whether or not they’re robots doesn’t matter, whether he felt things when he did then doesn’t matter…) would lose his goddamn mind to find it was all for nothing. I hoped Dolores would kill him when he was asking for it. Because what reason would he have to live then?

Edit: Everything William ever did was decided by his intense emotions, so this shit is out the window for me. My William is 100% canon divergent. I'll make it so when he found nothing in the maze, he lost it. Either he screamed bloody murder and provoked Dolores enough to shoot him in the church, oorrrrrr he was a mix of screams and laughter  and tears, and just... comes to the realization that life itself has no meaning and shoots himself in the head. 

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Disappointed as hell, but don’t exactly know what I was expecting. Makes sense, what happened, but I'm just left feeling uninspired. William's character felt empty in the end, and not in any way that I, personally, find profound. I get it. Trust me, I get it. Don't like it though. Dolores and Teddy were satisfying as hell, but William...man, I'm bummed out. And Logan just fuckin' naked on a horse, riding who knows where?? What... okay. I know my opinion is likely the unpopular one, so I'll shut up about it now lol

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so it may not snow much in sweetwater, and ford is probably scrooge’s evil brother, but that doesn’t mean we can’t bring a little holiday spirit to our favorite amusement park! with that in mind, i thought i would put together a little gift exchange for us to spoil one another a bit this season! to participate, it’s pretty simple. you should be an independent roleplay blog with a westworld muse or verse, and be prepared to make a little something for your randomly assigned individual for the holiday season. this can be anything in the family of graphics (aesthetics, promos, edits, etc.) or writing (a ficlet, even a poem, be creative!). you’re also welcome to drop some your giftee some kind messages throughout the event if you’d like, get to know them a bit, but this is not required.

to sign up as a sweetwater santa, please REBLOG THIS POST and you will be added to the list. signups are open from december 1st - december 7th. assignments will be sent out on december 9th - please have your inbox open! you can start posting gifts on december 25th - if you feel you won’t be able to make this deadline, please try to contact me before then, though i won’t bite if you don’t. this is meant to be fun, so don’t be too stressed about it! if anyone has not received a gift by january 6th, it will be assumed their santa had to drop out and i will make other arrangements so everyone gets something! x

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Sorry for being MIA lately. Been busy as fuuuuck. Hope to be active again in a couple weeks. Until then, it's slow going. At least it's going?? 💜

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❮❮ ᴍʏ ʙɪɢɢᴇsᴛ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ ❯❯

           Even falling, even drunk, Logan had anticipated resistance.  Despite their closeness, he’d expected William to shove him away, to scream, to call him every low insult he could sling.  Logan knew he’d earned them all by doing this.  If his mind weren’t swimming in bourbon, if he weren’t in a place which was as far away from the real world as one could be, he’d become engulfed with shame.  How many times had his gaze trailed William in the office for just one moment too long?  How many times had he quickly diverted his attention, knowing it couldn’t be?

           But William pressed back. William wanted this.  Wanted him.  Nothing was more intoxicating than indulging in that which you wanted, particularly when it desired you back.  With fingers curled on his jacket, William pulled him closer, urged him to know this was okay.  It wasn’t, but it was.  Logan’s head turned and his breath was a hot hiss from his nostrils.  He pressed further into taboo, lost himself.  His tongue ran along William’s lips, begged his mouth to open so he might DEVOUR him.

           The air between them was electric.  The sensations were felt in every bone in his body, through every vein.  He pulled his arm from William’s back and ran his hand along his arms, over fabric.  Such frustrating fabric when he wanted to touch flesh.  He wanted William on his back.  He wanted to be flush against him.  He wanted to press his hips downward, so close, that William might finally feel what it was he did to him.  How maddeningly crazy he drove him.  He wanted to feel it back.  He wanted William to show him just how much he wanted him, too.

           ‘ Let’s go upstairs ’

           He whispered when he finally allowed himself ( themselves ) a moment to breathe. Sober enough to worry William might come to his senses, too selfish and drunk to come to his own.

               What lurid truths lay in the basement of his mind; what things he had thought in delight; what desires of most squalid, unsavory nature he had possessed; never had this been among them. Why, then, was he so ready to dive into the sin of rawest intimacy when he’d not yet done so with Juliette? Too flooded with the fire of touching and being touched (and more drinks than he’d ever before attempted), William focused on nothing but how alive he was. Naked. Honest. Real. Logan’s words fell as hot breaths on his mouth. All too inviting.

               William’s head tilted and shifted unsteadily on his neck. Half-lidded eyes were watching him, desiring him. He’d forgotten himself, or at least the man he pretended to be. Stop. A memory against his will.

“Okay...”

“Will you marry me?”

“O-okay.”

“Okay?” Uneasy mock-happy laughter.

“Okay!” A hug. Smiles that were an honest as the other: not at all.

               “Wait...” William closed his eyes and opened them, from technicolor to black and white. With more difficulty than was the fault of a night spent drinking, William dragged his weight away from Logan. One hand, however, remained clinging to Logan’s knee, as if to hold on or he might topple off a high edge.

               “We-... Logan, what the fuck are we...” Little more than sloppy slurs. And he still wanted it. Protesting and yet, he wanted it.

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i hate you.

dcvilsbackbone:

@whiitehat​

ya’ll see this? you see how she treats me. you know what happens to people who treat me this way???

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dcvilsbackbone:

@whiitehat​

ya’ll see this? you see how she treats me. you know what happens to people who treat me this way???