muted.

“He got you bad. This is pretty deep.” But the clinic is empty and the expensive, prescription strength drugs are still in the cabinet, which is still locked. The kid’s probably sitting at home with a bag of frozen peas to his face right now. “Thank you again,” he says, pulling the needle through Walt’s skin like he’s just patching a pair of old jeans. “You can take as much time off as you need to recover from, uh.”

Doc watches Walt watch Doc sew up Walt’s arm.

“Are you, um, enjoying the view?”

@afffectation 

     “It’s no problem.”

     He says that a lot. It’s something of a default phrase at this point. A default phrase he says a lot, because there are lots of situations in which he’s got to say it, because many things aren’t a problem at all these days. A small scuffle, for example, is nothing. He’s dealt with more of those than he could ever keep track of. Similarly, the results of said squabbles, too, are no new news.      The cause and effect relationship of fight-and-fix has become something of a routine, more so still considering that it’s Doc who, with needle and thread, has stood consistently on the fixing end for the past several years. 

     Without a book to read or any particular interest in repeating the same old ‘take all the time off you need’ and ‘i don’t need any time, i’ll be good’ banter they typically share after any significant injury, Walt turns his attention to Doc’s hands as he works. There’s a well-practised ease to his movements -- quick, sure, and efficient that they are -- that’s almost admirable.      Blood or not, it’s neat to watch.

          describe your oc  |  open?

3.     his greatest achievement

in his eyes, it’s probably something mundane, like the time he got on honour roll  or when he won an award at a photography festival. his concept of achievements are based in merit. 

6.     how he deals with grief

he doesn’t. he does, however, deal with not dealing with grief, and that puts him into some overly introspective, incredibly cyclical ‘i should feel bad for not feeling bad’-style line of thought. death and failure to even the highest degree can’t (and won’t) particularly bother him, but he wants to be bothered because he knows that that’s what should happen. it’s one of the few things he’s actively aware of in terms of his psychological disruptions, and that’s probably because it’s where he stands out the most starkly.

9.     his theme

(i’m assuming this means theme song here) lyrics-wise, that’ll take a while to find because i don’t process sung words well, but there’s a song that really gives me a feel for him and a mostly-instrumental remix called forever and a day.

12.     his romantic life

practically nonexistent at the moment, and he has no problem with that. he was never romantically active to begin with, but this time around he’s got a big roadblock in the form of being nigh-incapable of connecting with people as quickly and efficiently as he should.

18.     how he sleeps

very lightly, on his left side (usually), and in at least socks, boxer-briefs, and a tee shirt. despite having two beds in his house, he takes the couch in the front room, because the sound of the chain lock on the front door getting fooled with is enough to wake him up.

21.     how he reacts to pain

oh hey i made a post about this

in addition to that, though, i’ll add a bit. he’ll stand on a broken leg even if it hurts. he’ll stand on a broken leg while saying it hurts. if he’s pulling a knife out of his shoulder, he doesn’t need to brace himself or count down or anything like that. it definitely hurts, but since he lacks that wonderful ~anticipation and uncertainty~, he’s pretty much always steeled. he doesn’t wince, and he’ll only jerk away from pain if it’s something that catches him completely off guard. otherwise he pushes right through it. 

24.     what motivates him

a forcibly induced pseudo-guilt complex and the intense desire to do good after years upon years of crime, with that ‘good’ being dictated not by psychosocial instinct and emotional feel-goodness but rather the objective good he pulls from the moral codes of the world around him.

what has been affected, however, is his anticipation and uncertainty. he’s unnaturally brazen (in both the physical and social sense) just as he’s able to push through far more than what others can. he’ll get hurt, he’ll feel pain, but the part of him that tells him to [back down, weigh his options, consider risks, consciously avoid further injury, etc.] is shot. it doesn’t work properly. he has a broken feedback loop, and that’ll make him keep getting up no matter how many times he’s beaten down, no matter how much it hurts, until he’s physically incapable of pushing himself back onto his feet. in terms of endurance, he’s only a bit above average, but the fact that he doesn’t back down makes him seem like a tank in comparison to others.

bold the natural aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse.  repost, do not reblog.  feel free to add any natural features you see fit !

fluffy white nimbus clouds. dark grey cumulonimbus clouds. rainclouds.  a hurricane. light spring breeze. a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise. hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water.  blankets of sparkling snow. tornado winds. monsoon flooding. rich orange sunsets. the mossy, slimy air wafting off a lake. soft, purple clouds at dusk. heavy hail. the rumbling of thunder. icy sleet. gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark. pink sunset clouds. grey winter skies. navy blue skies in the daytime. cool mist in the morning. leaf-bare trees. giant ocean wave. the full moon. a cracked, dry desert. rolling hills of prairie grass. sweeping waves of briny seawater. rocky, steep ravines. rippling canyon walls. spindly, cave stalactites. creeping green ivy.  lush canopies of leafy trees. dense, white fog.  a peaceful creek of clear water.  flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun. a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur. sharp, grey mountainsides. fossils nestled in chunks of rock. a white sand beach. dark water. deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt. soft, squishy moss. uniform rows of birch trees in winter. delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor.  tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain. white feathers fluttering down from flocks of doves in the sky. summer wildfires. a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm. silent lightning in the static of summer heat.  a windy blizzard.  thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes. a pure blue sky. a river of molten rock. a grove of flowering trees. twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground. bitter, cold winds. tumultuous skies of stormy clouds. branches of lightning ripping across the sky. a foggy swamp.  the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range.  sandy brown cliffsides. rocky coastlines. the violent shaking of an earthquake.  the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis. a black sand beach. a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow. underwater volcanic vents.  a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit.  light streaming down through the clouds.  a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze. the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night. natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake. the sea salt scent of the air right above the ocean. the rippling of water as fish dive down under the surface to hide. the warmth of the seaside sand in the tropics. the quaint of a spider’s web balancing dew on its threads at dawn. cold humidity in the depths of a cave.

he was a mercenary who obeyed orders like a dog, regardless of what they called for.

juggling (balls, bats)

quickdrawing, gun spinning (double revolver or single rifle), and gun throwing (only prop rifles)

balancing things on his nose, forehead, the flat of his head, his knee, and the tip of his pointer finger.

though his blog is still a heavy work in progress, his rules are up and i have a fair amount of information on him published throughout his pages. if you have any questions, feel free to ask me!

thanks!

               describe your oc  |  open.

5.     his shortcomings

he’s got many – in the physical sense, he’s incapacitated by bright or flashing lights, and a firm smack to the head can disorient him. in the general sense, though, his biggest flaw is his lack of instinct to ride off from. he’s unnaturally passive and neutral, can’t read or connect with people, and using “socially inept” to describe him is givingmore credit than he deserves. additionally, that lack of instinct makes him a man of extremes and who is very easily guided by external influences. he’s aimless unless directed.  

10.     his fashion sense

despite being in his forties, this man dresses like a 16 year old white girl. turtlenecks, button ups, fitted pants, oversized jackets, uggs or timbs or some horrible shoe brand like that, etc. though he’s partial to longer sleeves,  he’s not at all self conscious and wears women’s running shorts. he doesn’t accessorise. 

15.     how he’d react to a brain freeze

you know how some people sorta… hunch up? because he’d probably do that and wrinkle his nose. a default reaction.

20.     his reaction to a mystery love letter

25.     why i enjoy him

1: their voice

2: their smile

3: their greatest achievement

4: their insecurities

5: their shortcomings

6: how they deal with grief

7: how they like to dress

8: what they like to eat

9: their theme

10: their fashion sense

11: their family life

12: their romantic life

13: their embarrassing memory from years ago

14: how they react to burning their tongue on food

15: how they react to a brainfreeze

16: their dreams

17: their ambitions

18: how they sleep

19: their reaction to betrayal

20: their reaction to a mystery love letter

21: how they react to pain

22: what they're like on two hours of sleep

23: how they act when they're sick

24: what motivates them