I'M YOUR HUCKLEBERRY.

[deadeeye-archive]

prxceptum:

                                             “Apologizes. I didn’t mean for it to offend in any way. It was mostly just curiosity.”

He made a fair point though. Having spent a decent amount of time in the city, it wasn’t hard for her to see that her style of clothing stood out more than others.

                                             “Everyone here has their own unique sense of fashion. The way they dress gives you a bit of information of what the world they came from is like, so I like to occasionally inquire about the fashion of others. You know, to get an idea of whether it’s the norm for their world, or just a preference choice.”

     “I mean, I suppose that’s a smart thing t’ do.” No harm in inquiring about people’s individual worlds-- especially when there seemed to be so many of them here. Regardless, he waved off her apology and his attitude remained fairly upbeat. If he took offence every time someone asked about his taste in clothing, he very well might never smile again.

     “Guess I look like I’m straight outta an ol’ Western, huh? With the whole outlaws and sheriffs and the wild, wild west.” He burst out laughing and waved both hands in finger guns.

     “Well, sorry t’ rain on your parade, darlin’, but you’d be dead wrong. Folks back home’re always tellin’ me I stick out like a sore thumb. But tell me somethin’, and I don’t mean no offence-- where’re you from t’ dress like that?” Sure, because that sounds like ‘no offence intended’.

[deadeeye-archive]

aimstrue:

he was hardly surprised by the sudden voice that was thrown in his direction, although, he would admit it was unexpected. having spent an unknown amount of time within his thoughts he forgotten that he wasn’t alone. regardless, he brushed the fowl ideas that conjured in his mind & focused upon the other. perhaps a decent distraction ? an unsightly method but nonetheless followed.

❝ anything is fine, as long as it isn’t too heavy. ❞ in truth, he desired something with weight maybe even their most heaviest drink. but hanzo dare not appear to be an alcoholic in the eyes of this kind gentlemen. even if he was, however, masking one’s self was the key in running an empire as big as the shimada clan.

the latter thought brought a slight frown to his features, though he quickly recovered. again, this was suppose to be a way to distract him from work. he took a moment to relax, leaning a bit on the bar to continue speaking with the other. ❝ not at all, only right to be cautious about new faces. ❞ the other was observant ; hanzo respected that. however, it was obvious he stuck out too much. ❝ i suppose you can say i had a desire to step out of the limelight. ❞ 

     “Gotcha.” After a brief finger-gun gesture towards the man, he set out to fetch him a new drink, whistling as he did so. McCree himself was hardly a man for drinks with a low alcohol content ( if he was gonna buy liquor, it was gonna be strong ) but he supposed he could come up with a recommendation or two. It was part of the job description, after all. And while his preparation of the drink lacked any fancy flourishes, it was done with certainly, smoothness, and precision that he was sure few others could rival.      “Naw, I don’t think ‘cautious’ is the word for it.” It wasn’t if he thought the other man’s presence was life-threatening or anything. “Just ‘curious’, y’know? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you strike me as... I dunno, a li’l too uptight for a place like this.” Though it was perhaps the only bar in town, so should he really risk shoving this customer away? “Ah, forget it. Our door’s always open for you, of course.”

     “Well, take it from me, you’re gonna need a stiffer drink than that if you’re runnin’ from somethin’.” McCree’s tone remained equally as friendly and he even chuckled at the end of the sentence. Perhaps it was a little too dark or touchy a subject to be so upbeat about, but he was merely looking to lighten the other man’s mood. “So long as we’re chattin’, y’got a name? Unless of course, you’d like t’ remain anonymous. ‘Outta the limelight’, as it were.”

[aimstrue-deactivated20170622]

sharp chestnut color irises stared heavily at the golden liquor swirling within the glass. it laid untouched ; thoughts too preoccupied by his own work to dive into alcohol. surely it would be ideal to think about something else. after all, he left the comforts of his elegant room to drown self in a local bar far from his living quarters. yet somehow he managed to drag the struggles of work here.

the dragon lord could sense a sigh tingle at the tip of his tongue, but, he held it in. with that a slender digit pressed against the cool glass of the sake, pushing it slightly to the side. a waste of a drink, although, money was hardly ever pondered about. regardless, leaving seemed to be an option ; he was certainly too distracted with his own duties to find time to relax.

@deadeeye ❱❱ sc.

[deadeeye-archive]

     “Now, don’t tell me somethin’s wrong with the liquor.” McCree spoke from the opposite side of the bar as the stranger, casting a kind smile towards him. He’d had to lean forwards - prosthetic hand resting against the surface of the bar to support his weight - and raise his voice slightly to be heard over the music and the chatter, yet still he exuded only a friendly, easygoing sort of hospitality.

     “Lemme getcha somethin’ else. What’s your poison, darlin’?” Sensing the man was finished with the drink, he whisked it away and replaced it with an empty glass, awaiting the stranger’s order. “An’ I hope y’don’t mind me askin’, but what brings a fella like you to a place like this?” No insult intended on either the stranger or the establishment, of course. He simply seemed... Too refined. Too elegant to drink in a place that was more nightclub than it was bar.

     “You just ain’t exactly our usual type’a customer.”

[prxceptum-archive]

@deadeeye

                                 “Are you dressed that way for a particular reason, or is that just your preferred style?” Did she really have a right to judge the other based on how they were dressed, considering her own outfit of choice? Probably not.

[deadeeye-archive]

     “An’ here I thought folks these days didn’t give a red rat’s ass ‘bout how a fella dressed himself. I mean, ‘specially comin’ from a gal such as yourself.” He tipped his head back and barked out a quick laugh. “Now I ain’t sayin’ that like it’s an insult or nothin’, I’m just sayin’ you ain’t dressed too normal yourself, there.”

[deadeeye-archive]

i sorta vowed to take a longer break, but here we are again! whoopsie, big yeehaw’s back in town. anyway, i’ll be dropping any previous threads unless i’ve said otherwise or you hmu asking to keep our thread going!! i’m totally cool with either, just lemme know if you wanna keep anything.

that being said, it’s time for a fresh start! and with that comes a brief little starter call, capped at 2 for now, that of course excludes castmates! 

[deadeeye-archive]

machouette:

The flinch is normal for her– she’s more surprised he doesn’t comment on her eyes. Cruelty against her people is just a reality Ebene has grown accustomed to, and while a guardedness surfaces in her opaque gaze, it fades after a moment or two of gauging the other’s expression. He doesn’t seem like the cruel type. In any case, she’s too tired to tussle. Ebene turns back on her stool, resting her arms on the counter, then laying her forehead on the improvised cushion.

“ Mugging, ” she mutters, “ That’s what happens when you bring a knife to a gun fight. ” The waitress reappears while she keeps her eyes shut, cautiously setting a glass of water near her. The poor woman hesitates, ready to tap Ebene on the shoulder, but pulls back and scurries back into the kitchen when Eb continues. “ Wouldn’t have happened if I had my weapons from back home. ”

     He nodded twice in row-- the first sympathetic and understanding to the woman’s plight (he was no stranger to street brawls himself); the other directed at the waitress as a ‘thanks’, considering Ebene wasn’t looking to give one herself. McCree sipped his coffee as she spoke, sensing she wasn’t really in the mood to be interrupted and then rambled at by him. As was his typical choice of behaviour. It may sound irritating to anyone in theory, however, in practice he could execute it with enough charm that the person could easily be roped into a conversation.

     “Aw, a little disadvantage ain’t so bad. Been there myself, y’know. You just gotta get used to the whole thing! After all, ain’t like y’brought nothin’ to a gun fight-- y’got a knife, don’t’cha?” An awfully lighthearted view for someone typically bringing guns to knife fights. And speaking of a certain affinity for weapons, what a wonderful avenue of conversation to ask after! 

     “Weapons, ah? What’cha got? Who knows, y’might be able to find ‘em lyin’ around the city.” As he spoke, he discreetly removed his own gun from its holster on his hip. “This here’s my Peacekeeper. Found ‘er in some skeevy pawn shop, can you believe it? Someone tryna sell ‘er t’ make a buck... A real crime, ain’t it? I tell ya, I’d love t’ find the folks responsible for treatin’ my gun like that an’ give ‘em a knuckle sandwich or two.”

[osmanthusxfragrans-deactivated2]

Send me ♔ and I’ll make a headcanon of my muse based on a word from a random word generator.

Generator here.

[deadeeye-archive]

₪

send ₪ for a pokémon my muse would have on their team!

     three & four.) dratini! no matter how adorable little chip and dip are, it’s undeniable that they’re out of place among his typical fire types. perhaps these two cute little noodle dragons remind him of someone special? it’s a mystery!

[deadeeye-archive]

₪

send ₪ for a pokémon my muse would have on their team!

     two.) growlithe! friendly and loyal, yet extremely protective-- and a faithful dog-like companion as well! my, it seems these two were made for each other! but much unlike growlithe’s true ferocity, mccree’s is fondly nicknamed something cute... something like ‘scrappy’!

[deadeeye-archive]

₪

send ₪ for a pokémon my muse would have on their team!

     one.) rapidash! perhaps as competitive a pokémon as mccree is a person, the two are fantastic companions and battle with the same fiery passion and determination. it’s only a shame mccree can’t ride it off into the sunset, as he’d likely catch fire or simply be thrown off by the sheer speed of its gallop! what a shame.

[deadeeye-archive]

Mia Fewe && Cuddlesheep

mia fewe - does your muse have something or someone they would go to any lengths to protect/defend? is there a backstory as to why?

     All in all, McCree tends to be a very protective fellow! He has few close friends these days and regards them as being so close they’re family to him, so of course he’ll defend them! He’s very much the type to put his own life at risk to protect those near and dear to him. With all these dangers he ignores in favour of saving his dear friends, it’s amazing he hasn’t been more seriously hurt (yet)! And as for backstory, well... Can’t a man just want to keep his friends safe and sound? Why, many of them helped him decide to turn his life around, and he still feels quite a bit like he still owes them! How sappy.

cuddlesheep - how does your muse show affection/interest in things they like? are they the clingy/openly-into type or perhaps a more cool and distant type?

     Just about anyone who’s met McCree can all agree on one thing: he’s very open and loud about his affection. He isn’t necessarily clingy, as he knows most people need a little time to themselves instead of having this cowboy hanging off their arm at all hours of the day. But if he’s fond of you, even when not in a romantic sense, he very frequently vocalizes it and almost just as frequently displays it in his actions. If it’s not hugs, it’s wrapping an arm around their shoulders or waist while they walk side by side. Or even looping an arm with theirs as if gently, daintily escorting a grandma someplace. 

[datarequiem-blog]

Send ₪ for a Pokémon my muse would have on their team!

[deadeeye-archive]

akida kadoe, bitsy smooches

akidra kadoe - is your muse the type to run to the doctor over every little ailment, or do they believe in just rubbing on dirt in it and walking it off? do they have any vivid experiences with doctors of any sorts?

     mccree has never been to a dentist and u know it McCree visits the doctor about as often as you’d expect from him. That is to say-- not often at all and only due to something possibly fatal. He’s extraordinarily careless with his own health, but I suppose that’s a perk of being so deadly in a gunfight that there isn’t much time for getting hurt, huh? And as for vivid experiences... Well, there were those many, many times in which he was brought back from the dead by a certain doctor. But it’s happened so many times by now that it’s really nothing special in his book.

bitsy smooches - what kinds of things would your muse have in their shopping cart? are they the type to fight for the last of something on the shelf at Cereal Market?

     Unhealthy snack foods, microwaveable dinners, and as many 2L bottles of pop as he can cram into the rest of his cart. Not that he can’t cook real meals for himself (of course he can), but for the most part he’s lazy and the communal kitchen in Moonpie really isn’t up to par. And as for the second question, of course he wouldn’t! It’s probably just a bag of chips, for cryin’ out loud! He’s much more the type to hand you something from a shelf out of your reach.

[berrybulletin-blog]

☆ Important Sheep Meme ☆

Who are all these sheep??? Well, of course, the important sheep who roam Stella City! Check out this bleat two-part ask meme set ♐ sagittarius mod made! Spread it around and have fun!

Akidra Kadoe:  Is your muse the type to run to the doctor over every little ailment, or do they believe in just rubbing on dirt in it and walking it off?  Do they have any vivid experiences with doctors of any sorts (medical, dentist, etc) Bitsy Smooches:  What kind of things would your muse have in their grocery cart?  Are they the type to fight for the last of something on the shelf at Cereal Market? Cuddlesheep:  How does your muse show affection/interest in things they like?  Are they the clingy/openly-into type or perhaps a more cool and distance type? Howard Bleats:  What’s your muse’s, realistic and fantasy, dream job(s)?  Are they still actively trying to pursue either in Stella City? Meep: How does your muse like to spend their birthday?  How about their friends’ birthdays? Mia Fewe:  Does your muse have something or someone they would go to any lengths to protect/defend?  Is there a backstory as to why? Nancy Ewe: Is your muse nosy? What kind of rumours have been said about them in the past, or would be made up about them in Stella City? Officer Woolsley:  How does your muse feel about the law?  Have they ever had any run-ins with the police in the past, or perhaps look up to any law enforcers? Woolston Payne:  Is there something that could be best described as your muse’s guilty pleasure?  Is it a good thing or something they should probably try to not enjoy as much as they do? Shrek:  What’s your muse’s daily routine before leaving the house?  Are they the type to spend a lot of time on appearances, or do they wake up like this? Aries:  Does your muse consider themselves to be responsible?  Do they keep things organized and clean, or do they live in a state of “organized chaos”? Stella:  What does your muse do for fun?  Do they have any habits or quirks that could be considered “impulsive”?

For more information about these sheep, check out our Important Sheep page!

Tag your answers as #steci answers for others to see! And don’t forget to tag your reblogs and answers with #steci memeing for easy tracking and blacklisting, to accommodate those who may not meme as hard as others ☆

[infiltracixn-blog]

@deadeeye

Sombra really began to enjoy the bar in Stella City and became known for being a frequent visitor during a specific shift. However, when she quickly ran out of things to do she just opted to spare herself the boredom and went right in, she’d survive without her typical bartender. How hard is it to make a tequila shot?

Things only grew more interesting when she recognized the person who would be making her drinks. A snake-like smirk slithered across her face. “OH! Now this will be fun!” She exclaims loudly, waving her hand in a grand gesture. The flair for overexaggerating is one of her many fortes.

“Tell me, Joel,” she made sure to drag out the incorrect name for the cowboy. “How does someone who always passes out before me in a drinking game get to become a bartender? You must make the weakest drinks on the planet!” Sombra teases, sitting on the stool in front of him and laughing at her own joke. “Do most places hire the drinkers that normally pass out under the table within a couple hours of arriving? They should set a better example!”

[deadeeye-archive]

     McCree had seen plenty in his fairly short time working at Venuz Patrol. If it wasn’t the strange coworkers, it was the even stranger clientele-- but when you’re working for a triangle, what are you really expecting? So eventually he supposed he just grew accustomed to it all. That was, of course, ‘til he heard an all too familiar voice just barely out of his field of vision. He turned his head just enough to the left to see her, and it wasn’t hard; even in a nightclub she stuck out like a sore thumb.

     “Sombra,” His tone of voice betrayed just how bitter he was-- if he’d ever been hiding it in the first place. “My, what an honour t’ see you here,” McCree wore his disdain in the sort of expression you’d expect from a bouncer whose shoes you just vomited on, and his tone dripped with venom and sarcasm. “Sittin’ at my goddamn bar and mouthin’ off.” But yet, he’s got a job to do, doesn’t he? He slammed a glass down on the bar in front of her with nearly enough force to shatter it.

     “How’s this, ah? First one’s on the house, for... let’s call it old time’s sake.” His tone remained at the same level of unamused that it’d been at before. “Only the finest for an old friend like you.” No, unmistakably the drink he poured and offered her was the cheapest they had available; it likely tasted more like boot polish than anything actually edible. “Down the hatch, since you think you’re such hot shit. And then we can start talkin’ ‘bout your made up stories.”

[deadeeye-archive]

@badbatter

     Upon locating a certain weapon again, McCree had been reluctant to let it so much as leave his grip. Peacekeeper. It was heavy and solid in his hand, a perfect fit and familiar weight as if the gun had been designed specifically for him, and him alone. That was precisely the reason echoing in the back of his skull when he, shall we say, removed the weapon from a local pawn shop in the city. He'd recognized it almost the instant he'd laid eyes on it and, since Peacekeeper was his own gun to begin with, it wasn't really stealing, was it? He had merely returned a lost item to its rightful owner.

     But that wasn't the most pressing matter at hand. Sure, he was elated to have his revolver back in its holster on his right hip (no sense in actually carrying it around in his hand), but that wasn't the only thing he'd set out to do. No, old habits certainly do die hard, he mused to himself while lighting the cigarillo between his lips and taking a deep inhale. The serious demeanour and mindset he'd adopted for this had come a little slowly to him; perhaps he was rusty after allowing himself to relax so much in the city, but he knew it wouldn't simply vanish altogether.

     The thought had crossed his mind that the open street was an odd choice of location to commit this sort of crime. But night had long since fallen, the moon hanging high in the dark sky above the outlaw almost in a mimicry of the sun that usually sat in its place when showdowns such as this took place. McCree leaned almost lazily against the brick wall of the building behind him, hat tipped over his eyes and arms crossed over his chest; save for the moments when he pulled his cigarillo away to shake off excess ash.

     His complete calmness in that moment might surprise him had he not grown numb to it; along with the past crimes he'd committed.

     Ah, but he'd have time to mull over his actions later-- the sound of footsteps (belonging to the one person he knew would be walking the street this late) were approaching, and McCree was determined to make the money he'd been offered for putting a bullet through the man's skull. He pushed himself away from the wall and looked up to greet the man with a smile and wave of his prosthetic hand; both of which seeming much too easygoing compared to the events that were about to take place.

     "Howdy," Again, his tone of voice and the simple tip of his hat in greeting were far too kind. One might think he was meeting an old friend. "Fancy meetin' you here. Then again," His right hand fell from the brim off his hat to rest on the butt of his holstered Peacekeeper. "Suppose I knew a fella with a price like that on his head would be walkin' here, this time of night. Part'a the job t' know the li'l things like that, y'see? I've been hired." With his left hand he took what remained of his smouldering cigarillo from his mouth and dropped it to the pavement, quickly pressing the toe of his boot to it to extinguish it.

     "And I've come t' make good on that deal."

[deadeeye-archive]

pharah.:

“You know you’re playing dirty with all this kid sister talk, but fine. I guess it won’t hurt.” so of course he can get away with this emotional talk. “I’m not sure how mother would feel, but it makes me happy that at least you’re happy with my doings.” proud, even? A little kid might let praise blind them, but that’s not Fareeha’s case. Something didn’t sit well with the way McCree carried himself afterwards, and while she’s aware that time makes people change, she is sure that’s not the case. He hesitated where he shouldn’t have.

Sometimes, people changes for the worse.

The Egyptian feels insecure for the first time in years, it’s almost a gutting sensation if she had to describe it. Lips part, but no words come out, and her gaze drifted elsewhere for a moment whilst organizing her thoughts. She could just turn a blind eye, that’s always a choice, but not one that she would live well with in the future. If things aren’t supposed to be perfect, then why pretend? Why hide?

“Jesse,” her voice was stern, a side that the other might not have seen yet. “What did you do through these years?” crap. There’s a softness ( CONCERN ) in those words that she hadn’t plan on letting surface. But the damage has been dealt already, and she reaches a hand to grasp the shoulder of a man she considers family. “Don’t lie to me. I’m aware that you owe me nothing, but please… Don’t lie.”

     “I mean, y’kinda are my kid sister. I earned the right t’go talkin’ like this!” McCree barks out a laugh that is more brought on by happiness than it is by humour. And while a smile remains on his features, it softens sadly to fit the mention of Ana Amari. Extending his right hand almost cautiously, he grips Fareeha’s shoulder and gives it a light, friendly squeeze. “Hey. I’m proud’a you, kid. And knowin’ your mother, she’d be real damn proud too. You’re smart, you’re tougher’n nails, and y’got a real good heart.”

     An ironic choice to mention her good heart, considering she was asking after his bad one.

     The easygoing smile and posture that had become typical of him during their conversation fell away in an instant. Yes, Fareeha knew he had a criminal past before Blackwatch, but she had been a child at the time. Perhaps back then she had been blinded by McCree’s kindness towards her and misunderstood that he was a criminal, and that was all well and good but he didn’t want the realization of what he’s spent his spent his life doing to ruin her image of him today. 

     He doesn’t need more people he cares about disappointed in his choices. Not after he’d been trying to right his countless wrongs.

     “Look, kid... It ain’t easy to explain.” At least that much was true. It wouldn’t be so difficult just saying what he’d done in his past, but more so just getting the words out at all. The worry and disappointment in Fareeha’s eyes was more than enough to build up dread in the pit of his stomach. “Just... some merc shit. A bit’a bounty huntin’. What I needed t’ do t’ get by.” He’d long since tipped the brim of his hat down over his eyes to avoid meeting Fareeha’s gaze. He knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

     “But I didn’t kill folks who didn’t already have it comin’. I ain’t that kinda man anymore, cross my heart. I’ve changed.”