#57 @wallyclarkmemorial - Tumblr Blog

AND FINALLY, INTRODUCING SPLIT RIVER DEVILS' VERY OWN STAR LINEBACKER, LET'S GIVE IT UP FOR NUMBER FIFTY-SEVEN :

WALLY CLARK !!

indie wally clark from paramount+'s school spirits. — written by alex🔪30+ she/her. sideblog. follows back from @criticalfai1ure. other school spirits found at @thetragedies ( sb ).

— CLASS OF '84, BABY !

#pinned.

god, but wally scared to leave high school and split river because it can’t possibly be that good in college. where he’ll be a freshman again? have to prove himself to a new team and a new school and sit the bench more than just because his knee is acting up? and then who’s to say the nfl will even want him? but split river? life there is as good as it can get …

#study.

richyjerimovich

SCHOOL SPIRITS 3.07 "Midsomester"

#visual.#dynamic : wally & rhonda.#that's his surrogate sister fr!!! and i am a MESS abt it 😭#school spirits spoilers

splitrivers

charley watches wally like a prey animal. vigilant to each movement and pupils blown wide, skittish now despite a lifetime of practicing nonchalance. keep your head down, don't give them the satisfaction of being afraid. but he's fucking afraid now. brows knit together when he finally gets a name. wally clark. " the football stadium is named after you, " he states, realizing only after he speaks how stupid he sounds. he's talking to wally clark, memorialized in astroturf and glimmering lights, because he's . . .

eyes sweep to the chaos, and wally's rambling falls away into nonsense syllables. the nurse is knelt beside him, trying and failing to find a pulse beneath mottled skin. the other boys at the table book it for the hallway. at least they've got one hell of a punchline now. sick curiosity tempts him to get a closer look at what once was him, but he's not sure how far his legs will carry him at this point. he looks down at his hands, shaking but unblemished, different than his hands — what used to be his hands. when he looks back to wally, the question leaves him before his panic-stunned brain can put together the answer himself. " i can't go back, can i ? "

wallyclarkmemorial

charley's question hits him like a punch to the gut and wally looks at his feet. he's usually bluster and bravado – well-earned until the last of the kids who'd remembered him as a presence in the halls had graduated. now it's something he dons like a mask, too afraid of who he might be without it. “ i don't... i don't think there's really a back for us to go to. ” he's trying not to sound bitter about it. he's trying to reclaim that easy-going attitude he had when charley first skidded to a stop beside him.

he isn't doing a great job of it, he can tell by the way this poor kid is just staring at his physical body. wally tugs at his collar, head tilting a little to the side. the chaos in the cafeteria is a stark difference to the dead silence of the field after he'd gone down but it's doing wonders to drown out the snapping sound that haunts him. “ hey, bud, do you wanna meet the others? ” wally claps charley on the shoulder in an attempt to keep his attention from straying back to the center of the room. “ like i said, there's mr. martin and also rhonda and janet. yuri's in the art room, but he doesn't really talk to anyone and we can probably steer clear of the theatre and mina for now, but dawn might help lift your, uh, spirits... for lack of a better...? yeah... ”

#splitrivers #splitrivers : charley kitani.

splitrivers

rhonda doesn't stop at the sound of her name. it almost feels like a trap — turn around, and she's no better than who she was back in the counselor's office, too weak to walk away when it counted. her pulse, or maybe what she imagines her pulse to be, roars in tandem with the crowd in her ears as she widens the gap between them. go figure, the team actually scored.

footsteps falter, finally, at his apology. wally is, by all intents and purposes, a stranger. it shouldn't mean anything that he's sorry. but the sentiment strikes whatever raw part of her she's left exposed. tentatively compliant, she stops and listens before the rabid, protective animal within her bares its teeth again. another man who thinks she's so fucking special, who sees her, who's so grateful for her and their connection and —

she turns. and he's just a kid. and she was a kid, too. teeth clamp on the inside of her cheek to still their chattering. the sharp pain stalls the emotion to a stuttering halt. "well, it would've been really fucked up to just leave you out there." she deflects, but the edge in her voice is duller. if she thinks about it for too long, she'll get caught on the memory like a skipping record. she opts instead for its dangerous b-side : "it was my guidance counselor." a breath. she makes the mistake of meeting his eye, and the moment of defiant courage drains from her. she salvages its remnants, managing a shrug that does very little to actually make her seem nonchalant as she censors the gory details. "he got angry, too. and it landed me here."

wallyclarkmemorial

wally recoils half a step when she turns to face him. he thinks he'd deserve whatever was coming for him before she changes her mind, and he's grateful. again. ( he's never really had as hard a time as this connecting with people. he's wally freakin' clark! but this side of split river high isn't anything he could've ever prepared for ).

he doesn't have a breath to lose, but it still feels as if it's been stolen with that admission. her guidance counselor, damn. that'd almost be like if coach had done him in ( and wally promptly ignores the fact that his coach technically had a hand in his death – but, still, not like that ). “ shit, ” that all you got, clark? “ that's so fucked. and you've just been forced to walk these hallways like nothing's happened? ” he glances over his shoulder toward the stands. a chill creeps up on him and he can't stop the way it makes him shudder. “ i... i know it wasn't my place to ask, ” he's picking through his words because he recognizes the minefield he's tiptoeing through. he didn't realize dying would be so... lonely. “ i'm sorry, ” big brown eyes search her out again, “ i know we don't really know anything about each other, i, uh, i think this has been my shitty attempt at drowning out the sound of my neck snapping? but i shouldn't have... snapped. like i did. back there. ”

another cheer, this time a chant for the devils, sets his teeth on edge. “ um, would you mind if we went somewhere else? or, i mean, if you don't wanna see me anymore, i can - i can go find janet or elliot or someone. but, uh, this isn't... i think mr. martin was right. this is too much. y'know? ”

#splitrivers #splitrivers : rhonda rosen.#B)

@yearnstarved / matt said : "Stop playing the hero. You're not going down there alone."

wally is staring at the hole in mr. martin's scar, wristwatch in his pocket and football tucked in his arm so tight that he couldn't fumble it if he tried. “ i'm not – ” he breaks his gaze with the floor with a sneer like he'd lost the no-blinking contest. “ i'm not a hero, beale. and i'm sure as shit not playing at anything. ”

he heaves a sigh, fingers drumming an uneven pattern on the ball, eyes darting from the door, to matt, to the hole in the floor again, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “ but you don't get it, dude. if there are answers down there... we have to find them. we all deserve to find our doors the way dawn and janet and... uh, and if someone's gotta do it, why not me, right? ” it's like he didn't even hear the part where matt had volunteered to join him.

#ans.#yearnstarved #yearnstarved : matt beale.

AND FINALLY, INTRODUCING SPLIT RIVER DEVILS' VERY OWN STAR LINEBACKER, LET'S GIVE IT UP FOR NUMBER FIFTY-SEVEN :

Wally Clark !!

indie wally clark from paramount+'s school spirits. — written by alex🔪 30+ she/her. sideblog. follows back from @criticalfai1ure.

— CLASS OF '84, BABY !

#sp.#wally clark rp #school spirits rp

BASICS :

NAME : Walter "Wally" Clark Jr. AGE : 18 upon his death BIRTHDAY : september 4, 1965 ( virgo ) PRONOUNS : he/him ORIENTATION : mostly straight BIRTHPLACE : split river, wi RESIDENCE : split river high / the afterlife HEIGHT : 6'3" HAIR COLOR : dark brown EYE COLOR : brown

FAVORITES :

CLASS : gym MOVIE : big fan of action and sports movies FOOD : burger & fries with a strawberry shake to wash it down ANIMAL : dogs and giraffes SPORT : baseball ( but don’t tell his mom )

#study.#introducing : wally clark!

wallyclarkmemorial-moved

they manufacture a fumble and it goes off without a hitch. the homecoming crowd is deafening as wally scoops the football and books it down the field, heart thumping with every step he takes. he can feel his pulse racing, teeth baring with each huff of a breath. he couldn't fight the grin even if he'd wanted to — he's got the ball! wally clark, down the field!

there's the fifty, quit being a pussy, man ( his mother’s voice rings in his ears with each step ) — to the forty ; he's at the thirty! — c'mon, wally, faster. he urges himself on, nearly to the end zone, and then–

it stops.

the cheering, his heart, his breath — oh, god. clark takes a big hit, he is down — why does the announcer sound so... far away? wally sits up, throwing his helmet off with a gasp. he lifts his free hand up to wave off coach as he comes rushing in, game ball still tucked away in the crook of his arm. ❝ it's cool, i'm fine, coach. just got the breath knocked outta me. you don't gotta bench me, i — ❞ but coach isn't listening. the two emts that appear with a stretcher don't seem to be listening either as they run up. this doesn't look good for wally clark.

❝ guys, i'm fine, ❞ he reiterates, empty hand waving in front of the worried faces surrounding him, ❝ hello? ❞

someone calls his mom down from the stands and he can just hear the way she'll antagonize him, he's already rolling his eyes. so he stands to greet her, brushing himself off. ❝ ma, tell 'em i'm good to go. tell them... ❞ but he trails off, following her stricken gaze.

if he still had a breath, it would've been stolen the second he met the lifeless eyes looking back at him. ❝ what the... what the fuck. ❞

this has to be some kinda... some sick joke, right? the emts load the body up, and wally bends over, retching. what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. what is happening? ❝ h-help, ❞ he reaches up to his throat, fingers falling short and clinging to the neck of his jersey, ❝ no. this. this ain't real, this is... ❞ cleats dig into the grass. he's chasing the stretcher, reaching out to grab it, ❝ hey. hey! stop! ❞ but his hand goes right through it. the fabric, the guy carrying it, the body — his... his body.

wally stumbles back, falling onto his ass in the middle of the field as the rest of the team is shuffled off.

he can hear someone wailing, but when he looks around to see where the sound is coming from, he realizes...

it's him.

#study.