#notsomerciful

“Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

The floorboards creaked as Philip took another tentative step forward into the darkness. The leader had felt that it was a mistake to walk into the unknown nearly blindfolded, but their growing group was in need of some of the supplies buried deep within the warehouse. Clothes and canned foods, mostly. He held his Bowie Knife in one hand and a flashlight in the other, listening for any signs of movement from one of the Biters. Philip glanced back over his shoulder at his companion who had volunteered to come with him and gave her a curt nod. Everything was going to be alright.

Because of their low numbers, Philip had left most of their guards back at Woodbury to guard the town, there was no need of dragging them all of the way back out this way to the warehouse if it had already been emptied. It would have been a waste of time and man power.

[sms] is this meant to be news? [sms] because FIRST OF ALL it’s not [sms] and secondly pot, kettle, black thanks bye

@notsomerciful​ || Say things to upset my muse

“That’s awful rich comin’ from a Buddhist monk with a hairstyle straight off of a 90s boy band album cover!” 

She slams down the glass, shaking the table and making nearby patrons jump. “JUDGE NOT LEST YE BE JUDGED,” she snaps in uncharacteristic emphasis that seems to only come out when she’s speaking English. “I’ve had exactly, exactly, exactly enough, and not one drop more!”

“Well great, if you’ve had exactly enough, y’ain’t gotta have no more.” He tosses some coin onto the counter, before taking her lightly by the arm. 

Send ™ and my muse will do a poor imitation of yours. || Accepting

Sanzo

“The hell are you looking at, maggot?”

“I’m Genjo Sanzo, 31st of China, and I don’t have time to talk to you right now. I fill my time with important things, like smoking cigarettes and staring sullenly out the window, or pulling firearms at people who annoy me (which may or may not include my only friends), or spouting gruff philosophy that doesn’t actually make sense but everyone pretends it does because I said it with dramatic gravitas and also probably they just want me to go back to not talking again.”

“But really, deep down, I am haunted and sad. Haunted because of my Tragic Past, of course, but also sad that I will always come in second fiddle to the beauty and wit of that Hazel Grouse. Though we are from different lands, we have suffered many of the same wounds--and yet that Hazel is so effortlessly gorgeous and charming. Oh, how I wish we might have traveled together a bit longer. How I wish I could tell him how I feel.” 

August

“Oh! Oh, oh, oh, I got this one!” 

Hazel gets up and leaves the room.

Hurt/Comfort Starters || Accepting

“... Ahaha. It’s--a very fine thought.” 

And yet, what part of him wasn’t utterly overshadowed by his mistakes? The path that had led him here. The things he’d lost. The things he hadn’t been able to protect. What he was, what he thought he’d been, what was still inside of him, right now, at this moment. 

But he supposed she may not have been incorrect. Maybe he was more than his mistakes. Maybe he was also his damage, his foolishness, his weaknesses, his inadequacies, his despair, his anger, his grief. Maybe he was just a broken, pathetic person, cobbled together by force of will, by a promise he had to keep--to live, somehow, despite all of this.