MELROSE WALKER

𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷 𝙰𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙻

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this blog is archived; melrose walker has been moved to @romanzato​.

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         A  PLETHORA  OF  ORIGINAL  CHARACTERS  CURATED  BY  JINN  ©

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anyways, it’s about time i make a serious post about what i’m gonna do here on tumblr: i will put more work into the multi and possibly move rosie there. my main issue is that i have a lot going on outside of tumblr and i barely have the time / will to be on rosie, let alone two blogs at the same time. so i’ll slowly start to actually put more effort into that multi and proceed to archive this blog once that’s done.

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jinn you look like you would smell of wool scarves, cinnamon, and the crackling of firewood

nina icb you guessed what i smell like at 4 am in the morning

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hiatus will never stop me from weekly muse vs. mun

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#TREPPENWITZZ.                ——                featuring    dani    ardor    from    MIDSOMMAR.

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consider  this  a  call-out…..  if u need proof just look at her blog……  

xoxo,  @skoolbully

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before   you   cancel   me,   consider,,,,,,

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@rosedha​ don’t think i forgot abt you. the boucle est bouclée 😤

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i dont feel like staying on tumblr at the moment, and i’m sorry to make another post about it. my country went ‘dark orange’ (meaning we’re close to being ‘red’, thus in a very critical pandemic situation; thus, we’re very close to another lockdown) and i’m stuck at home alone, yet again, as my roommate has left the house the day i came back. and i also have to figure out a way to visit my parents. i also need to get back to drawing, which i... never stopped doing, but mostly did for school commissions / exams, and i am struggling to draw again just for the sake of it; so i need to train that as well. my head is literally everywhere but where it should be, and tumblr has been a distraction. a good distraction, too much so, and that is the main issue. so, in short, consider this a proper hiatus. it might last a week or a month. i just need to grind back into my usual work routine before being comfortable writing here. i hope you guys are doing ok.

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well i am not going to miss my weekly muse vs. mun

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𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐁 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊.

the  boy  is  rebuilding   /   filling  the  holes  within.    many  that  have  laid  dilapidated  for  so  long.     the  world  has  seen  it ,      THE  DIARY  OF  JACOB  BLACK.     for  it  wears  him  like  a  loosely  fitted  jumper.    sparkles  behind  amber  optics.     yet  a  scar  remains    (  HAVE  YOU  SEEN  A  BROKEN  BIRD  /  WINDS  CLIPPED  &  SPURTING  AT  THE  MOUTH  )  he  takes  a  delicate  hand  into  his  own.      fingers  entwining     –––––    the  visible  size  difference   almost   laughable       ❝    come  on  rose ,  i  know  that's  not  your  vibe      ❞     she  is  lead  to  a  small  garage   ,   one  that  holds  his  world  on  a silver  platter.      screws  &  mechanical  diversions.   (  to  fix  the  simplicity  of  the  world.   )  waiting in the corner :   a  small  motorbike  /  painted  black  with  a  daisy  waiting  on  the  seat.  

❝         i  built  it  from  scratch    /  figured  you  can  now  have  a  ride  over  here    ❞  

    𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐎𝐘  𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐈𝐍  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐎𝐖𝐍,    as  the  witch  still  regains  conscience.  if  he  wanted  to,  his  hand  could  cover  hers  whole,  a  detail  entertaining  in  its  own  —  one  she  would  have  complained  about,  were  it  not  for  the  aftermath  of  her  afternoon  slumber.  her  response  is  a  muffled  snort,  born  from  a  mild  curiosity;  the  kids  reach  the  garage,  and  when  her  eyes  spot  a  beauty  of  mechanics,  her  eyes  light  up.  of  all  things,  a  motorbike  was  certainly  the  last  present  one  would  expect  to  get  on  such  a  day.  technically,  there  is  a  flower  —  a  daisy,  the  mark  of  a  considerate  young  man  who  builds  with  the  same  care  he  holds  for  people.    ❝  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐒  —  𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘  𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘  𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋.  ❞    a  girl  is  smiling,  it's  a  rare  occasion  —  it  fits,  however;  there  is  gratitude  she  has  yet  to  properly  express  —  for  now,  she  can  only  approach  the  bike,  still  processing.  one  of  her  hands  slides  towards  the  handle,  carefully  grazing  the  machinery's  surface.

    finally,  the  daisy  ends  up  between  her  fingers.  the  witch  turns  to  jacob,  approaching  him,  this  time.  ❝  𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓,  ❞    her  smile  doesn't  waver;  nor  does  her  hand  as  she  reaches  one  of  his  silken  locks.    ❝  𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐃𝐎  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐀  𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄?  ❞    now,  there's  enough  space;  rosie  puts  the  daisy  behind  his  ear,  delicately,  and  leaves  it  there,  as  if  he  were  to  hold  on  to  it  for  her.    ❝  𝐈'𝐋𝐋  𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓  𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐇𝐀𝐃.  𝐀𝐒  𝐀  𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒  𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓.  ❞    the  girl  tilts  her  head,  eyes  softly  gleaming.

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beep beep how’s my portrayal ?

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this is a permanent plotting call post. if we’re mutuals and you’d like to interact, feel free to like this post and i’ll approach you as soon as i can!

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𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘.

«        walker,        »    the    greeting    is    unreasonably    joyful    as    he    sits    at    the    table    with    her.    «        i    got    you    the    magazine.        »

    𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍  𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒  𝐈𝐍,    melrose  has  been  reading  the  same  chapter  for  the  last  two  hours.  the  good  news  prompt  her  to  put  down  the  book  and  look  at  him,  expectantly.    ❝  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃?  ❞    there's  an  attempt  to  keep  her  genuine  surprise  concealed,  though  she  hasn't  read  a  fashion  magazine  in  months.    ❝  𝐌𝐇,  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒.  𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓  𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄?  ❞

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𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐍.

it’s the light leaking in through the blinds thit gets me. could barely fuckin stand the sun seeping through when the things were drawn, them knocking aboot in the breeze of an opening door and awl thit, as they do, getting in ma eyes, but when they’re fully open ah stand nae chance. nae fuckin chance at awl. ah squint.   — why’d you do thit fir?

                tae be grimy and grumpy: ah don’t mind mold one bit, at least it’s totally honest in whit it is n wouldnae dare open up any blinds on unsuspecting eyes (ma unsuspecting eyes tae be precise). ah’s externalise ma affinity fir mold and its honesty, but ah fear it might ring as even too defeatist fir me. ah roll ovir oan ma side n eye rosie instead. might take a stab at acting like ah’m being forced tae dae it when ah lumber up off the bed and wobble on ma feet rather than acknowledging the fact ah am the puppeteer of ma own limbs..   — ah don’t know whether yir oan aboot vampires or werewolves or cannibals,   ah start and let oot a groan. even if ah’m no quite there yet, awl the way up like, standing does thit tae a person.   — but ah like vampires, so thit’s the only selling point fir a walk. ah’d love tae sit here and rot n ah’d gladly fuckin choose thit if you hadn’t brought the suckers intae it. walk where?

    𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐍𝐎𝐓  𝐀𝐍  𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.    not  for  miss  melrose  walker,  anyways.  when  renton  complains,  she  doesn't  regard  him  with  an  answer,  not  at  first.  you  can  see  her  grabbing  her  shoes,  putting  them  on,  getting  ready  for  a  bit  of  fresh  hair.  of  course,  it  would  be  so  much  easier  if  that  guy  hadn't  started  talking  about  vampires  and  the  like.    ❝  𝐈  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐒,  𝐁𝐔𝐓  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑.  ❞    melrose  doesn't  laugh  at  him,  solely  on  the  grounds  of  the  guy  being  entertaining.  who  the  fuck  goes  on  about  vampires  and  werewolves,  anyway?    ❝  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓?  ❞  the  girl  shrugs;  all  that's  missing  before  heading  out  the  door  is  the  jacket,  though  she'd  rather  wait  for  the  other  to  dress  up.    ❝  𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒  𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋    𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘    𝐄𝐀𝐓  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄.  𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐘𝐎𝐔?  ❞    an  interesting  observation,  if  not  a  bit  of  a  —  well,  an  obvious  one.

    ❝  𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒  𝐀𝐑𝐄  𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑.  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄  𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘  𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐀  𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇.  ❞    which,  in  between  technicalities,  is  true.  melrose,  however,  has  never  seen  one:  her  eyes  have  only  witnessed  boring  human  kind  so  far.

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              𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮  𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹    (  @toxicviced  )    𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻  𝑨  𝑴𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑨𝑮𝑬         ———​​    you’re  cold?  well  damn,  i  can’t  control  the  weather!

    𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋,  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐀  𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐘.    melrose  turns  to  the  generator;  it's  gonna  take  a  professional  to  repair  it.  in  the  meantime,  she  will  have  to  deal  with  a  less-than-bearable  walking  garbage,  whose  presence  is  the  reason  of  a  dead  generator.    ❝  𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘.  ❞    her  eyes  still  seek  for  a  way  out,  though  they  won't  miss  a  moment  to  send  the  man  glares  with  pure  spite.    ❝  𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃  𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌  𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐓  𝐈𝐓.  ❞    being  stuck  in  an  underground  bunker  with  nothing  but  a  freezer  —  with  a  door  that  won't  shut  close  —  isn't  ideal.  even  worse  when  the    worst    secret  agent  in  the  world  somehow  finds  ways  to  make  it  worse.    ❝  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐀𝐑𝐄  𝐖𝐄  𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀  𝐃𝐎  𝐍𝐎𝐖,  𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒?  𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇?  ❞

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𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐑.

hey! he likes the scarecrow in that oz movie. right after the cowardly lion, he has the top spot. danny’s sensibilities and movements are more tied to the likes of a man made of straw hobbling around like that than you’d think. 

                ‘ a witch? definitely. i think if someone told them about me it’d be a , i’m quite fun you know. anyway, all i am saying, was saying, was thinking of saying, was-was… ’   oh, he can’t quite remember now. he’d attempted to buy much needed thinking time (for he’s not even sure what) with the playing of tenses and supposedies but when that didn’t work out it faded into nothing. the hobbling draws to a close and he turns back around him, gives the trees a good look over like signs will sprout from them if he does. when they don’t, he looks back at rosie and her cigarette, finally letting the actual main point from her jump out. danny doesn’t quite know their location either. trees look like trees look like trees. he considers the possibility with a certain kind of hope that they’d wondered into a hunger games-esque forest-arena type deal with 24/7 surveillance where one of the capitol residents will take pity on them or be stunned by their charm or sheer determination to keep going, and send ointment that’ll fix his leg for good or at least a map. maybe just a dozy finger to point them back the way they came.  he frowns.  there’s not much else he can do but fall to the floor and writhe in pain, but, as he said, it’s best to just ignore it and let it do its thing.   ‘ what? i thought you were leaving, like … bread crumbs or something. ’   breadcrumbs; he’s still on the fantasy, namely: witches.   ‘ are you serious? do you actually not? ’

    𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐎𝐘  𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒  𝐎𝐅𝐅  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐈𝐓𝐒  𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆;    thank  god  she  had  the  one  smoke  left,  otherwise  the  boy  would  have  witnessed  a  very  bitter  witch.  and  you  know  what  the  thing  about  witches  is?  they're  all,  always  bitter,  in  one  form  or  the  other,  and  rosie  isn't  lacking  any  of  it.  there  are  many  reasons  to  be  bitter,  such  as:  nobody  knows  where  they  are.  it's  a  legitimate  reason  for  a  girl  her  age  to  be  upset,  and  it  would  be  for  a  boy  like  him  as  well;  it  is  surprising,  however,  to  see  danny  just  as  dumbfounded  as  her,  and  yet  more  disinterested  about  it.    ❝  𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐒?  𝐀𝐑𝐄  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄?  ❞    as  he  finally  takes  a  moment  to  sit,  yet  again,  he  pursues  the  last  bits  of  patience  left  in  the  walker  girl.  the  response  holds  no  insult,  though  it  possesses  a  hint  of  mocking.    ❝  𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇  𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓,  𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒  𝐀  𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐎.  ❞    melrose  takes  another  puff,  this  one  is  slightly  lighter.      ❝  𝐈𝐅  𝐈  𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐓𝐎  𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄  𝐘𝐎𝐔,  𝐈  𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓  𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐒.  ❞    a  grin,  both  seemingly  benign  and  threatening,  takes  place  of  her  frown.  sometimes,  it's  fun  to  simply  make  fun  of  your  local  weakling,  to  indulge  his  fantasies.    ❝  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐁𝐄  𝐓𝐎𝐎  𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊  𝐓𝐎  𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓  𝐌𝐄,  𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐘.  𝐈'𝐌  𝐓𝐎𝐎  𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐋.  ❞