#p: walker

[yazsanchez-a]

closed // @brookswalker​

There was a saying Yaz’s mother used to tell her: nothing good happens after 2 am. Once the clock hit 2, it was always best to go home and go to bed. It was wisdom Yaz probably should have listened to many times in her life, but she had never been good at taking advice. Especially not from her mother. “Walker! Open up!” One existential crisis and a suggestive text later, Yaz found herself outside his apartment, tiny firsts banging on the door as her agitation grew. She didn’t care if she woke the neighbours. “Hey,” she greeted him with a nod, shrugging off her coat when he finally opened the door. “You got anything to drink ‘round here?”

[immortalfics]

Who: Walker and @buriedwithit (Fins)

Where: Waste Disposal

Was Walker capable of making anyone do what he wanted? Of course. Without even breaking a sweat. But even he had a code and that code prevented him for forcing his will on people like him. Humans, of course, were fair game. As they should be.

"Hey bud," he quietly greeted the other worker with a smile. He'd been visiting him for quite some time now, determined to recruit him. In Walker's experience, it was the ones that didn't like violence that could be the most violent when triggered. "Long day?"

[immortalfics]

Who: Walker and @all-cf-me (Seth)

Where: The Bearded Lady

"Not buying anything but drinks tonight," he commented over his shoulder as he heard the owner of the nightclub come up behind him. Heard was the term he used but it had little to nothing to do with his ears. It was more a feeling that itched at the back of his mind until he let the others thoughts in.

His statement wasn't entirely true either. He wasn't exactly here for the bodies that were bought and sold, but he probably would have paid for information. But why do that when he could get whatever he wanted for free?

"Haven't seen anything new on your menu worth perusing anyway."

[berryxboyd-a]

closed // @brookswalker​

“Oh my gosh, would you please be serious for one moment, I’m trying to read your chart,” the young woman leant against the bar, inspecting her phone as laughter bubbled up from her lips. Somehow, someway, she had found herself in a part of Brooklyn just down the road from the Prickly Palm, a few drinks in, attempting to get to know someone she’d just met… through their birth chart. “Okay,  so,  shh… shh...” holding a finger up to her lips to stop Walker talking, or herself from giggling, Berry tried to regain control of of the conversation, “shh... do you- do you know your birth time? This is very important.”