#slingerscng

[warscourged-blog]

Immediately, the LINE in his lips cuts thin. ( You never fucking— ) His jaw flexes tight, he doesn’t even realize his teeth are CLENCHED until he hears the clicks in his jaw; bone gnashing in a discomfort that even he can’t stand. And there he wears it plainly; hurt, FRUSTRATION, acceptance. ( I walked away from you a long time ago — ) Of course it wasn’t going to work, things were different. Only because the RULES ( he made ) said so. Jesse frankly had been done with bartering for conversations, trading away bits of patience just for CHANCES to even get through to him. He’d spent his last bit of luck still trying to survive. There wasn’t any to spare on this. And yet. He sure did fucking try. “ — Can you for once just— MAKE IT work. Just try! I don’t ask much of you, but the LEAST you can fuckin’ do is try!”

               vicious flinch, he’s a dog kicked in the change of his demeanor. apathy wears away, sightless eyes soften, his face takes on EMOTION, the most he’s shown almost in years. it’s immediate, the change, in how he stares the young gun down, though he can’t see the FRUSTRATION, the PAIN, but it reflects in the desperate way he speaks out. 

         you left first, oh, but he wouldn’t say it -- he’s said it enough over the months since jesse first found out who he really was. GHOST from the past, and not the only one ( old soldiers were hard to kill ), he’d been expecting the anger sooner, but now he’d pressed the buttons correctly, and he’d pissed the former love affair off enough draw from him the sharp tongue he was so used to in their youth ( though now it was laced with malice, when before, sarcasm found its home there ). 

               instead, he chooses instead to let his own self filter through the cracks, the one who wanted to MAKE it work, who wanted to TRY, but the other still beat him back ( when will you learn your lesson, morrison? when will you learn to not care? ), throat caught with the want to reach out and turn the clock back. and where rugged sureness normally sits, instead his voice is filled with something close to HONESTY, as much as it could be in his age. ❝ i don’t know HOW, jes. all these years, is there anything i COULD try that would undo the damage you and i both did to each other? ❞

[chronal-anomaly]

Braid!

[Braid || not accepting](http://chronal-anomaly.tumblr.com/post/180956225508/feed-your-inbox-send-braid-to-braid-my-muses) It was a rough mission. Maybe that was an understatement, maybe it wasn’t. Lena remembered watching the missiles come into view on the radar, the complaints from those in back about the rough movements and sharp evasion that she had used as they had gone spilling this way and that. She remember glancing back, watching Jesse grip onto the netting with his metal arm and hold onto the rest of the crew as she did one, two, three flips, trying desperately to avoid the oncoming projectiles. She remembered listening to them yell as they were struck. And then she remembered waking up in Angela’s infirmary, alive and well. They had survived, all of them, with relatively minor injuries, considering the circumstances. The riot acts had been read, and the team had been released with little more than casts and painkillers to heal and recover. Lena was resting on the couch, a bandage wrapped light around her shoulder and arm where she had struck the control board of the plane. The woman fostered no guilt for now, exhaustion too prominent in her mind, but after some rest and a recovered memory of exactly what happened–it would be back. Instead of dwelling, the pilot allowed her head to roll to the side, onto the one good arm. The other remained in a sling, crossing her chest and simply hanging there. She didn’t hear the cowboy approach, just made a soft noise and looked up when he rested his fingers into her spiky mess of hair, pulled back into a bun for the moment. “Wha–?” But the protest failed on her lips as he pulled the bun out and carded callous fingers through the messy locks. This was nice, don’t ruin it Oxton.

[ncscope-blog]

@slingerscng​ (starter call) (accepting.)

Three quick shots fired in rapid succession echoed across the shooting range, and another three soon followed - emptying the magazine of the gun Captain Amari had retrieved from the armoury for the occasion. It had been a while since she had last used a gun instead of her trusted Kinamura; a pleased smirk blooming on her lips and she reloaded the weapon with a quick glance to her targets. Yup. Still got it, she thought. Nothing beat a proper sniper rifle, but if you asked her? The thrill of a good old six-shooter was quite remarkable.

She turned around upon hearing footsteps behind her back and graced him with a more professional (albeit still quite cocky) smile. “Jesse McCree. I hope you had a good night of rest, because your boss asked me to check in on your shooting skills.” Lightly tossing the gun in the air to spin it around and catch it by the barrel, she handed it to the young man. “How about you show me what you’ve got?”

[coachgunner]

@slingerscng // since you asked.... (^:

Josiah Boetticher has been a long-time family friend of the Deadlocks, providing tips and inside dirt on the side of the LAW in exchange for fair compensation. Couple times, the man has even set fixers in among some of the boys-in-blue, leaving her and the Rebels able to work while they looked the other way – as long as their palms were greased for it. It’s why this contact is treated no different from their past arrangements; the usual coordinates for a dead drop given, along with an insufferable riddle to help suss out the exact hideyhole he stashes the latest intel. 

‘Look for the man in red, but not in the eye, else you’ll be dead.’

“Corny as always, Josi…” Ashe trails off. The location is little more than a dusty, abandoned ranch; pinpointed in on a barn that’s seen better days. Sunlight streams through the exposed roof, and the wood beams creak and groan with every gust of hot, summer wind. She paces the barn slowly, looking for clues, hoping to catch some glimpse of red in all the dusty browns & greys of the barn. 

[fromtheshadcws-moved]

@slingerscng answered:

TWO DUDES ON A COUCH | ACCEPTING

   Says the REAPER full of them, though McCree wasn’t quite there for the witnessing the downfall. Each shot seemed to phase through, and the distance slowly closing in by each step. The Gunslinger could tell there was no means of a draw, and that soon enough he was going to be UNLUCKYone of their duel.     “Yeah well….I’ll be sure not to miss this time.”                @fromtheshadcws

  To any (stupid and unlucky) onlookers, it might seem that the Reaper is losing ground; he phases in and out, moves and ducks out of the way of that deadeye aim. Or not; when he doesn’t, growls accompany the way his body disintegrates, half an arm gone up in smoke and knitting together as he releases a spray of bullets on his own.

 “And here I was thinking you were having fun, cowboy. Or maybe you just need the target practice?”

[norikiru-blog]

Can I just say that I really love your take on Shiro and how much love and adoration that you put into him through your threads? Shiro is such a cool character that already you’ve managed to amplify and exceed that through your amazing characterization and depth that you’ve added to him. I see you all the time put so much hard work into your pieces and it absolutely pays off in your writing! I haven’t had much interaction with you but from what we do have, I am so eager to see how we go!

     ⇥   @slingerscng

aaahhhhh—!!! i’ve kinda just been keeping this ask open to stare at in between working on things, and every time i read it i just!!! i get this big dumb smile on my face!!! this is so touching, what the heck… 

thank you. like, so much. you’re so sweet and honestly, i’ve been wanting to interact with you more from the start. i’ve been tremendously slow with drafts lately but i do have our thread and i’m really looking forward to seeing where it goes and how our boys get along!! ♡

[lunefixed-a-blog]

               // @slingerscng

          “   this is the one time that i will concede; maybe it is a little chilly outside today, but the forecast says that it should be sweltering tomorrow.   ”     ----- always one to preach about best fit, cuoi finds himself biting back his own jabs earlier in the week when jesse had shown up in tanned leather and thick flannel, joking about how out-of-place and overheated he looked simply by standing there. now with temperatures dipping far below the mere average of 18 degrees celsius that dominates over what he’s grown so accustomed to feeling is winter. the united states continue to surprise him, and he picks at his thin jacket, pointed and annoyed at himself more than anyone else.      “   so watch yourself, your boots are going to be filled with sweat when it hits.   ”

[mcnpetit-blog]

@slingerscng​

      “ Of c o u r s e I can handle a revolver--        I mean...I’m sure it’s not hard to figure out. “