Ain't going back to Barton Hollow Devil gonna follow me e'er I go Won't do me no good washing in the river --
Can't no preacher man save my S O U L.
deathslinger || written by j. please read rules before follow
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@dustynoose
Ain't going back to Barton Hollow Devil gonna follow me e'er I go Won't do me no good washing in the river --
Can't no preacher man save my S O U L.
deathslinger || written by j. please read rules before follow
plot with me. hit that heart and we can discuss stuff. dynamics. plots. shipping - whatever floats yah boat
The Good, the Bad and the Killer.
devillefort-master: The Good, the Bad and the Killer.
when friends want to play a custom game on dbd and let me bully them as Caleb — my heart grows three sizes
ok but like. where’s my enemies to frenemies to lovers trope threads and dynamics thanks
solo queuing as a survivor is so painful. watching teammates be purposefully toxic while you’re trying to be a good sport and help the game progress, play like a sane person... only for them to t bag at gate for the killer and leave you for dead... on your first hook... and then getting a message ‘lol noob get good’ from them.
This is why i’m always sympathetic to killers and hate survivors... as a survivor main smdh
here's a little run down on how i write Caleb here. i’ll be jumping a little all over with my thought process for him:
In LIFE -- Caleb was neither good nor evil - he was made to survive in a gruesome frontier. His anger festered over time, directed at the world and its cruelties. He was never an outwardly violent individual in his youth. After his father passed he took his anger and dark thoughts out by building, crafting - intricate pieces of machinery that he could use to enact his wrath on those who wronged him or his family. The ones who bullied himself and his sister. Even when their actions turned violent? Caleb controlled himself. For his family and their well being. But without a proper outlet? The anger roiled until it was a black festering wound in him and unleashed upon the one person who ruined everything he worked tirelessly for. When Bayshore took advantage of him -- his control snapped and the ugly monster lurking under the surface lashed out. And there it stayed for years to follow, just below the surface.
When Caleb speaks to the average individual, he’s actually very polite and even tempered. Though he comes off as stand offish and intimidating with his towering height, he never once set his cruelty on those who don’t deserve it. When he speaks to the law? It’s very brisk and factual - stone cold and unnerving. . . It’s when he speaks to Outlaws, the ones he hunts? The nasty cruelty resurfaces. Manic and blood hungry and setting years of repressed anger onto the poor bastards he was set loose on. He enjoys every second of their torture, make no mistake about that. Thrived on it. It's what made him so good at his job.
In DEATH -- the Entity feeds off that anger. It torments him consistently with the voices of the souls who truly took advantage and betrayed his trust. It lies to him over and over again with voices from his past and makes him believe the survivors before him are Outlaws -- waiting to be judged and caught by the terrifying fury that is The Deathslinger. Those are the “games” he’s truly relentless, where no one will escape and blood will drench the ground of their chosen hunting ground. However. . . Sometimes the Entity’s influence is fleeting or focused on another killer, and Caleb’s mind quiets. That’s when he remembers himself, not the blood thirsty creature he was turned into, but the quieter, intellectually driven individual his father had strived to raise him as. The one who adores music and sunsets. If you’re lucky enough to catch him on those days as a survivor? He may actually converse with you like a civilized individual, or wave you off so he can think to himself. Consequences from the Entity be damned.
I got lucky. I routinely did not get hired in period pieces because casting directors always told me I was too contemporary, whatever that means. I’m not sure how someone can look too contemporary. They still had two nostrils in the 19th century, I think.
- Anson Mount about getting cast as Cullen Bohannon in Hell on Wheels (2011-2016) after being rejected from a number of period movies and tv series
screw tumblr being broken - i didn’t come out of retirement to be deterred by shit tier updates. like this for a starter. i’ll likely come in and ask you a particular verse for it – but apart from that, lets wing it and have fun.
Men with.... Men wi....... Men with lo....... Men with long hair...... Pretty.....
The Civil Wars - Barton Hollow | Barton Hollow
gross mobile post but like — caleb’s horse is named rosie. based off the nickname he would call his little sister.
The air was thick with the stench of blood as dust hung heavily all around him. In the distance the groan and creak of the gallows carried on the wind - fake as it was. SURREAL how much it reminded him of the true waking world. It felt the same, yet not at all. But one thing that hadn’t change between worlds -- killing was just the same. Blood spattered up his sleeves, Caleb let his eyes trail from the body of the sacrifice dangling on the hook before him. His chest rose and fell - calm and collected - as the sound of gears turning rang ominously. Click, Click, Click.
“ Your friends are dead, son. And time ain’t on your side. Will you make this easy? ” his voice was raspy and low, jaw clicking as he adjusted it and turned slowly on his boot, “ Or are you gonna make this WORSE for yourself? Either way works for me just fine. ”
@babysits liked for a starter.
" . . . I can hear your breathin’ in the dark, boy. ” A rattling hiss as Caleb slowly reclined in his seat, empty and dust ridden bottle held in a lazy grasp. He didn’t turn to look, didn’t bother to stand on ceremony. The hunt wasn’t in him even as the whispers from the dark grew in their displeasure. They could rot. “ You ain’t gon’ find one of those machines in here. Best try outward. Sooner you do it, the sooner we all go home -- ” the word was spat out with a hiss, lip curling as he threw the bottle against the nearest wall. Glass shattered loud, even in the raucous din of the false saloon, and it soothed him.
@starcourtking liked for a starter.