OH, DARLIN' DARLIN WHAT HAVE I DONE?

i hear what the neighbors say: that poor boy he's lost his way now I do my talking with a gun and blood will spill into the gutters. and it will stain the morning sun. tell me WHAT THE HELL i've done. can I stop at one? or have i just begun? take out the bodies that live. oh, lord, it gets me high. i think I'm gonna get my fill of taking lives.

[whathegrits]

salem / 20+ / pst. this blog is low activity and is still under going construction.

[whathegrits]

Look I’m just saying but Mako still eats other fish. The pilot has this fantasy logic and we see all sorts of animals but we also see that dead ass fish on a platter being served to Mako SO I ME AN??? OR DO WE JUST PRETEND THEY EAT RICE AND FRUIT I M ???

[whathegrits]

QUICK MAKO HCS.

It’ll come as no surprise ( if you know the mun ) he plays the guitar.

Was a 49ER in his youth, more often panning for the damn gold until he caught on to the business ventures of most merchants selling mining equipment at ridiculous prices and he left the Gold Rush to pursue something else.

Like his shark species, Mako is perceptive and smart, mostly launching attacks when provoked. Despite being at the top of the bounty list when it comes to the Gulch, he isn’t the worst when it comes to outlaws. He tries to remember his honour. He doesn’t like most Great Whites though.

Don’t try this shark in the water. He’s fast.

Was closely acquainted with The Gulch’s previous sheriff. That’s all.

[whathegrits]

[whathegrits]

✖· rcwhide​ .

★ ; .             well now he’s done it. shoulders tense as the shark swims along the sands as though this was HIS territory, those grown-back hairs on his mug tangled by what might’ve been dried spit. ( dang nabit! could’ve sworn she yanked those out for good. ) rawhide never lets her gaze fall away from her previous inmate, even if he goes to loot his trusted steed’s mangled corpse. for a moment she ponders prodding for answers — maybe a tumbling tide of rackaljacks had stampeded through && happened to trample the smaller critter.

             of course, it doesn’t help ease the sheriff’s concerns to see he’s armed ; confounded harpoon… his words don’t go unyielded either, mind tumbling through his spoken thoughts to try && finger out a better jab. as he seems to keep his back to her, her ferocity spikes, hand nearing her slingshot as a boot stamps to the dirt, eye narrowed in preparation lest he instigate some sort of tussle.

                               ❛ - don’t you go underestimatin’ me again, lest you f’erget who hauled you through a ceiling ! - ❜ purple eyes hone in on golden spires that swirl around his thick pupils, nose scrunching by the bridge in irritation. ❛ - stop fussin’ over me like i’m some can-kickin’ kid on a mama’s porch. i’m th’ dang SHERIFF of this here gulch — && whether you like that fact or not you oughta RESPECT it. - ❜

             rawhide doesn’t even hesitate on her next words. ❛ - unless y’er itchin’ t’uh see those iron bars again. - ❜

      nowadays wrangling in youngins and teaching them a proper lesson about honour has proven more difficult than not. the laws of the badlands were ever changing and neither he nor she could tame the constant shift of its terrains. yearning to go back to the golden age where instances weren’t so black and white.

    she thinks of him so lowly and could he really blame her? folks believe just about anything these days and if his notions were correct, that damn mayor would use any young and naive rascals to do his dirty bidding. but when he looked into those lilac eyes beyond the girl’s steely - gaze he could see something else; the ghost of a person he once knew and the ire he constantly found himself grabbing by its ankles and pulling beneath the waters boils and bubbles up until it reaches the surface and… he still holds back.

    sharp teeth baring themselves. seeing red beyond the blood spilt from his trampled steed. Mako steels himself from doing anything reckless, at least not right now. ❛ Ye’ know who’s a fine sheriff? ❜

    ❛ That daddy of your’s and I would know! We tussled for decades on this ‘ere land and if ye’ think you can just pull up some buckaroos and slap on your dead man’s Stetson you’ve got a lot of learnin’ to do before callin’ yourself the SHERIFF. ❜ though not once does he raise his voice as he rises again and faces her. there’s a somber tone, low and caution beneath his aggression. a choice that’s calculated and isn’t towards his current problem.

    ❛ Sure you’ve got grit but that’s nothin’ when you’re the one underestimatin’ folks who’ve walked these parts for a dozen more years than you have. I don’t endorse your kind of reckless behaviour but you want my respect? Be smart and scram. These dunes haven’t been friendly as of late come dark and I’m not talkin’ about bandits. ❜

[whathegrits]

✖· rawhide​ .

★ ; .             blood boils hotly under her skin like festering blisters, gloved hands furling into balled fists. how DARE he trounce around the desert dunes like he owned this hellscape! lips pinch in a tight frown, tongue pressing irritably against the split in her teeth. rawhide sure wasn’t about to back down from a dogfight, not when the gulch may be riding on it.

                               ❛ - who you callin’ half-baked, you scar-faced no-good outlaw ? you ain’t even got the authority t’uh go && question MY OWN ! - ❜ a sharp breath cuts through the air like fire on underbrush. ❛ - you take that back-— - ❜

        ❛ Last I recall you ain’t no true bull so you best realize that outside of that town no BEAST in these parts ain’t gonna care whether you’ve got authority or not. ❜ he scoffs at her laughable pride, certain that her unguided spunk would be the thing that’ll cause her to perish if nothing else.

    but he does find himself taking another look at that freckled face and again, he cackles at the resolve he’s seen plenty through her eyes — gazed upon horrors far worse that even he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemies.

    Mako spits at the ground and tosses the cigarette between his claws onto the sand, making sure to snuff it out with a good stomp of his boot. he nods towards the general direction of where the gulch would be. ❛ Go on girl! Best be moseying on back towards that shabby jailhouse ‘fore sundown. I don’t usually ask so kindly. ❜

    stern expression unwavering he turns to the corpse of his mount and begins rummaging through the left over supplies, quickly taking hold of his prized harpoon and slinging its strap over his shoulder.

[whathegrits]

    ❛ Now unless you prefer that I introduce you to them BARKING PISTOLS I suggest you stand aside, girl. This ain’t the business of no half - baked sheriff. ❜

@rcwhide​ !

[whathegrits]

tags !

[andromeda3116]

Odd thing, ain’t it… you meet people one at a time, they seem decent, they got brains that work, and then they get together and you hear the voice of the people. And it snarls.

Jingo, by Terry Pratchett

Sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of passable red wine, reading a (marvellously, horribly relevant) Discworld novel, and… waiting. And waiting.

And waiting.

[veradia]

some floral hats! 🤠🌿🥀