#anarchywithin

[errorexecutingfile]

anarchywithin replied to your post: themostresilient: errorexecutingfile replied to...

somewhere out there, Sawyer is questioning his sexuality

[[ listen. Sawyer is more than welcome to join the       Scruffy Bad Boy Club. ]

[singingrass-archive]

      This is the second accident he’s had with Faith --- his red Honda CL350 motorcycle known only to him and a selected few by her name. Not long after he’d gotten her, sometime mid-2007, he’d crashed her into a ditch, getting himself scraped up and breaking a leg and landing her into much the same condition. He’s done his best since to keep her on the up-and-up; but when one is on the road as often as Job is, often panicked and scared for his life, and when one is in as an unfortunate financial situation as Job --- keeping up the maintenance of his only prized possession can become something of a difficulty.

      Admittedly, this time the damage isn’t as excessive; just a nasty scraping and a large dent in the right side-cover; but it is the aforementioned unfortunate financial situation that has him nervously chewing on his bottom lip as he awaits the mechanic’s verdict. The last break he’d caught had been roughly two months long, which allowed him to find himself a temp job at a construction site and save up just a little bit of money --- but even if that turned out to be just enough to afford the repair by some miracle --- it will leave him entirely broke yet again. Not that he minds, really --- he’s not unfamiliar with finding a park bench or a dry patch under a bridge to sleep on, nor is he unfamiliar with going hungry for a little while --- but summer is coming to its slow end and, soon enough, if he fucks up again, he’ll have to make the impossible choice between fixing his bike and having a warm place to sleep in.

      Dirty fingers raking through greasy hair in a poor attempt to push it out of Job’s face soon drop as he brings both arms to cross over his chest, weight shifting from one leg to another as though he were anxiously waiting for a doctor to report back on the medical condition of a loved one who’d fallen ill. “So, uh, is it bad? Or, y’know, manageable?”

@anarchywithin // sc.

[emmreth]

@anarchywithin​ ( continued from here. )

At first, she had been a bit scared of him. She was already nervous enough with strangers, but he also gave off this look of being a tough, dangerous mercenary. However, the pre-war objects in his possession had been enough to push her to approach him. Those objects in particular were rather rare, so she was all too happy to part with caps to get them. What she did not expect to come out of it was a sort of trading system to come about from the meeting.

Although, she was glad it did. It was a partnership that was mutually beneficial. He got caps, and she got historical artifacts. Her income of objects had increased rather substantially, considering there were now two people contributing to her collection instead of just herself. Meanwhile, her own scavenging trips still yielded artifacts to keep and items to sell. This would give her the caps she needed to pay Sawyer. 

But, to her pleasant surprise, there came a time when she did not need to use any of her caps to buy artifacts from him. However, she had already grown to look forward to his stops in Diamond City. So when he began to simply give them to her, that only endeared him to her even more.

Another chuckle slipped past her rosy lips at the ‘power of spite’ part. Still grinning, she watched his hand fidget with the rotary telephone. “I’ve, um, never really been one for spite, I guess. But it is a thought. It would be nice to show people I’m not just an obsessive junk collector or whatever they think of me.”

[blackwiidowsniper]

@anarchywithin 

continued from x

She watched him. He seemed a little out of it still, but that was to be expected. People could pretend to be as tough and battle-worn as they wanted, but suffering through a wound that looked as bad that would still be enough to knock anyone down a few pegs. She probably wouldn’t have fared even half as well.

At his question, Victoria shifted. She reached for her med-kit, a small thing she kept for personal use and for the rare occasions she felt like bothering to be a decent human being.

“Of course, I’d have given you something sooner but I don’t make a habit of sticking people with needles, unless they ask.” The dry humor lasted only a moment longer before fading, giving away to something moderately more serious. “I have two stimpaks if you need them, and if you want something to take the edge off I have you covered there too.”

[emmreth]

❛ So, prove them wrong. Thats the best way to do it. ❜

@anarchywithin.

A smile immediately pulled at her lips, as her gaze took on an inspired gleam. Honestly, it was she needed to hear. So many in Diamond City (and a few in Goodneighbor) thought she was wasting her time preserving pre-war artifacts. That she was doing little more than collecting garbage. But the man before her had a very good point. There was more on the line than just her dreams — she needed to prove the naysayers wrong about the validation of historical research and about herself.

She finally looked away with a timid, breathy chuckle as she tucked some hair before her ear. “I like the way you think.”

[holiestwars]

Starter for @anarchywithin. 

         It was quiet but for the noise machine in the hallway. Out in the lobby, one could hear the faintest notes of "Tupelo Honey" playing from the reception desk. A bookcase on the far wall held titles on trauma, family, and self help organized by color in rainbow order. Next to the bookcase was a framed artist's rendering of "shalom" in Hebrew lettering, and he may have noticed a mezzuzah on the door frame when he came in. Sadie was sitting in what looked like a well-loved office chair, the fake leather worn in some areas, but the effect wasn't so much shabby as it was comfortable looking. Like a pair of favorite jeans. She had one leg crossed over the other and a pink notepad balanced on the top leg, pen poised in her hand as she waited for Sawyer to settle in.

         She offered a smile that she hoped was both comforting and encouraging, hazel eyes bright with optimism. "So," she began, "what brings you here? What is it you'd like to work on?" Some people didn't really know the answer, but that was alright.

[lucygrms-blog]

            despite spending   twenty minutes    trying to crawl her way up the large tree,  and spending another   five minutes    tying her bag and remaining supplies to a hidden branch  on   said tree,   she had made the   stupid      mistake of not marking the tree that she had put her things in  !    so    there she is,  standing among a group of tall trees   ( she doesn’t know the   species ?    she didn’t pay attention to that lesson in science ).   to the outside eye she must look   insane !      &   she sees him before she hears him,  eyes finding his figure in front of her as she turned around.   ❝   i  was  gonna   try   to  hide  behind  a  tree  or  somethin’ ,  but  i  very  clearly  don’t  have  anything  for  you  to  take ,  so  i  guess  i    shouldn’t    be  worried ?     ----right ?    ❞          @anarchywithin   /  STARTER CALL !

[hefights-a]

   a saviors a savior,    and that word...      savior,    ever since negan had dealt   {  irreparable damage  }   to alexandria and to the lives of some whom nick held closer than anything,  it had garnered a new meaning that dispelled the old one that it had carried.   savior now meant carnage,  death,  harm   &   theft.   there are no saviors,             and negan made sure to remind them of that with the ironic name of his little home grown cult.      this follower of his,    another ‘negan’,    as they liked to call themselves,    was no different in nick’s mind.    had circumstances been different, maybe the teen might not have been holding a gun to the back of the man’s head, and instead offering him a hand.           “ i’ll shoot your fuckin’ brains out, don’t even think about moving. ”      /     @anarchywithin