@darngoodshot-blog / darngoodshot-blog.tumblr.com
this is so irrelevant now but hey i’m pretty sure this is archived now? which is fun. hi hope you’re all doing well and sorry i’m a shit and vanished for like a year and a half. i ruin my own life a lot and it’s just now settling down. ANYWAY, archived. yeah. figured y’all already figured that out lmao
I'm thinking I should dump all my old threads and just post a starter so I guess this is that. Just hmu, whatever. :)
do you ever just sit around and think I’m in my twenties.
you know what trope pisses me off the most? when the protag is pointing a gun at somebody and they’re like “you won’t do it. you’re too good” and the person holding the gun is like oh shit i am and they slowly lower the gun while the other person laughs. WHAT THE FUCK. if i were there, and somebody told me “you won’t do it” i would immediately shoot them dead without hesitating. who are you to tell me what i wont do. musty bitch
*puts my hand on your shoulder* listen. I DID mean to make you upset and i DO think your opinions are shit
one of the most toxic things i’ve ever done is ignore the bad in someone because i love them
[[SEND “You don’t mean that” FOR ME TO PICK ONE FOR MY MUSE TO SAY TO YOURS]]
"You’re embarrassing!“ “You act like a fucking child.” "Sometimes I can’t remember why I ever loved you in the first place.“ "What did I tell you about trying to hold my hand in public?” "I don’t want people to know that I’m dating you!“ "You’re pathetic…” "You make me sad. Just looking at you…“ "I can’t be around you anymore.” "You’re not worth it.“ "You’re nothing. Not to me. Not to anyone.” "Stop looking at me like that…like you’re expecting me to care. You should know better by now.“ “You’re useless.” "Loving you was the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done.“ "Pretending to love you was excruciating.” "You thought I could really love someone like you?“ "I’m just…getting tired of you.” "I have to get out. You’re ruining my life.“ "I used to dream about you but now you’re the star of my nightmares.” "You’re a disappointment.“ "I tried to love you..I really did.” "You’ll never be anything to me.“ "I wished you realized how much I’ve grown to loathe you.” "You’re so ignorant.“ "You look ridiculous!” "I’m not going out with you in public looking like that.” "Every one makes fun of you.“ "You make me look bad.” "You’re a waste of time.“ “I’m not yours anymore!” "It’s not [her/him]! It’s anyone! I could love anyone more than I love you.“ "You don’t deserve me.”
@lastofthepast // modern starter
“Y'know, you’re a brave woman. I wouldn’t think a lawyer would wanna drink in a place like this…” He was pouring her out yet another whiskey, which he stuck a little paper umbrella in for the hell of it. “It can’t be good for your career.”
As long as he’d worked for Hancock, Laura Moon had been a fixture in the Third Rail on late nights and the weekends. It made him wonder what the hell that was about… and so he’d been pumping her for information all night, just for something to keep himself busy.
“Funny thing about my career- it’s exactly where I need it to be.” Laura shrugged as she considered switching to something non-alcoholic… She knew her parents had Shaun well in hand, but she was still loathe to let herself go home after a hard day and be a complete pain in the ass.
“Plus Hancock’s got his sources all over. Figure if there’s something I should know, I might hear it here…” Not to mention the discount.
"In the sh-- uh, no, said. In the gutter, huh?" He was smiling when he spoke, hoping she would understand that he was just joking around. She always had more than enough money to pay her tab, so naturally she had to be pretty damn good at what she did, right? He assumed so...
"But seriously, don't trust half of what you hear down here. They're all full 'a it. Total liars. All just 'blah blah, something totally illegal blah'."
He lifted his head back up, blinking at her. Huh. She looked just like one of Hancock’s friends. Dirty. Lost… Honestly, he was surprised she didn’t just ask to come inside. He was a bit disappointed she didn’t, really. It would have been better to help her get settled in than just sitting around. “Ehrm… hold on. Lemme check real quick.”
RJ lifted himself up enough to get his phone out of his pocket, pressing down on the button to pull up the home screen. He put it back down before responding. “Quarter to six. You should try to get inside soon, if you can. Gonna start to get dark…” Sniffing absently, he paused before continuing. “–You thirsty? I could pop in and grab you a drink. Bar’s been dead all day. I guess the fuck– piss, no, the ah, the junkies and drunks are busy today.”
Citra’s face falls. “Six?” She asks, her tone defeated. “No…it cannot be that late already…” She looks up at the sky again as if trying to will the time to change. But she knows it’s no use. She had missed the meal. All because she had slept in…
At his offer, her eyes go back to the man. “A drink?” She shakes her head. “I do not-” She stops. Why shouldn’t she drink? She’s not on the island anymore. She doesn’t have all of her responsibilities and lives of her people resting on her shoulders anymore. And if the man is offering… At least she’ll get something out of his situation.
She nods. “I could use a drink.”
"Alrighty then, just lemme..." he stands, pushing himself up from the steps with a soft groan. Been sitting too long, probably, because his legs are just a bit numb. RJ stretches momentarily before he turns and heads inside, glancing back over his shoulder.
He pauses, before adding, "You can come in if you want. It is a bar, y'know... we got our alcohol license and everything. Or you can just, ah... stand out here. Whatever you wanna do, I won't judge."
...Maybe they need bigger signs, 'cause half the time customers don't come in unless they're already aware of the Third Rails existence. Maybe something neon...
“No shit,” he spat back; fear barely covered by a thin layer of annoyance, because it was easier to deal with than how his heart had dropped to his fucking feet. Shifting into gear, then hammering away on his phone, he swore again as he peeled out into the street. Hopefully he didn’t run into any cops on the way– God only knew what it would look like if they got pulled.
At least he managed to get Amari on the line, explaining in a strained, high-pitched tone what exactly was going on. Or, what he thought was going on. MacCready hung up just as he brought the truck around the block, the clinic just at the end of the street. “What the hell did you even do?” He didn’t really expect an answer– it looked like Hancock was going to pass out again, the last time he’d managed to steal a glance.
Gritting his teeth, Hancock threw his good arm out to brace himself on the dashboard as RJ backed out of the driveway like a madman, another sharp jolt of pain shooting through his arm. Worse, was when the brunet shifted the car into drive and the redhead was thrown back into the seat again with a yelp, this…… this wasn’t going well at all.
“Followed that dealer back again t’try to figure out who th’ boss was. I found him.” He choked out, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a groan as another wave of pain washed over him and his stomach churned. “Fuck…… I was just tryin’ to talk to the kid, shit got outta hand fast. ‘M sorry, sunshine, wasn’t supposed to happen like this…….”
He didn't respond-- it would have been another biting "no shit!", and he wasn't sure Hancock would enjoy that very much... of that the insults wouldn't get a little more personal. This was so not a good look for him; still unsure if he was better off screaming or crying or some combination of the two, he bit down hard on the inside of his mouth to keep himself quiet.
Only when they arrived at Amari's office did he allow himself to talk again, getting out of the car and going to help Hancock. "God, okay... let's just get you out. Shit... I can't believe you'd just..." RJ sighed; he wished that were true, because this was, looking back, all a little too expected...
Once Citra leaves the room, he relaxes visibly, finally looking around and taking in his surroundings. It’s not bad, as far as raider dens go. He could get used to it– he’d better. As far as he can tell, this new alliance means he’s gonna be working for her for a damn long time. There are worse places to be assigned. MacCready could have ended up in that vault out on the edge of the Glowing Sea… yeah. Definitely worse places.
Instead of sitting in one place, he decides to go have a look around the entirely of his new post. Bloodied, severed heads, check. Large meat hook-ish contraptions for hanging prisoners, check. Burning skulls, check. Oh raiders. So predictable.
Satisfied with what he’s taken in, he makes his way to the edge of the camp and sets himself up in one of the guard towers. It’s no sniper’s nest, sure, but he can worry about setting that up later. For now? May as well make himself useful.
Citra watches MacCready make his way around the camp from where she’s standing on one of the outer walls, talking to a small group of the raiders, filling them in on the plan. They don’t seem terribly pleased with having to depend on some outsider to keep them safe, but she reminds them it’s either this or they wait around until the opposing camp is too powerful and overruns them.
For obvious reasons, after some grumbling, they go along with trusting the outsider.
She tells them to spread the word that they’ll be attacking tonight before she heads over to the guard tower she had seen the sniper head into. “What do you think?” She asks him. “You are one of the only outsiders to see the inside of these walls and live to tell about it.”
"It's not a bad set up-- pretty impressed with the whole, ah... y'know. The raider ingenuity you guys've got goin' on. And the severed heads? Nice touch."
He's trying not to be too friendly, but he can't help but poke a bit of fun. It's nothing too bad, so hopefully she won't just slit his throat... he thinks he wouldn't make a very good severed head, or burning skull, or any other sort of horribly disfigured and disarticulated "artwork."
"But... yeah. It's, ah.... yes. It's nice."
I'm always so bad in groups.... like, honestly this is a thing I should add just to this page in general; I know I'm like barely here and just kinda dropped in but hot damn my sense of humor is off. really off. I mean approximately .2 percent of everything I say. Apologies for that in advance ;^; (Bc lbr shoulda posted that a WHILE ago)
That’s was something he could definitely agree with– gunning through the last of the horde didn’t take too long, not with the bit of distance they’d managed to get back. Once the last visible threat went down, MacCready sighed and sagged into the closest weight-bearing object. It happened to be a damp, half rotten chair, but it would do. He leaned into the back of it, scrounging around until he found a cigarette.
When he pressed it to his lips, his hands shook a little. He ignored that in favor of striking a match. “Glad that’s over…” Hopefully, she wouldn’t be dragging him off too soon. He needed a moment; uninjured but shaken, reliving the past in his mind’s eye.
Once the last body fell, she slumped against a wall- who needed chairs when you could rely on a steady, firm object that was far less likely to give way? Laura sighed and leaned her head against the cool surface, letting herself relax for a moment while keeping one eye open, watching for any unexpected ferals that might appear…
After a moment, her gaze turned to MacCready, frowning mildly at the cigarette. He must have had a death wish.
“You alright…?”
"Depends on your definition of alright. I'm not hurt, if that's what you're asking. All ten fingers and toes still attached."
He inhaled deeply, smoke burning down into his lungs and settling his nerves-- even stale, these still packed just enough of a nicotine punch to keep him from rattling right out of his seat. His hands still shook, but he was settling down... they'd made it, hadn't they? Why couldn't his stupid body catch up with the rest of him? It was fine, they were fine, and he'd managed to do that protection thing well this time!
