#allnostalgic

[rotinthedark]

|| @allnostalgic

The air might not be as clean as Pelican Town, but at least the noise kept his mind quiet.

That was why he came out here, really. To get away from everything, somewhere so unlike his home that he wouldn't think about it for a while. Hell, he'd book a hotel for a few days if he could afford it (and not stress his mother out). Unfortunately, trips until late at night were the best he could do until he could finally move out.

He might as well get acquainted with the place, beforehand.

Sebastian stood up from his previously knelt position next to his motorcycle, having finished locking the chain around a lamppost. Backpack shrugged off and put carefully down beside him before reaching up to undo and remove his helmet, giving his hair a good shake to loosen it up with a relieved breath.

Already, he felt relaxed again. Thank Yoba.

Pale fingers combed through his long, dark locks, before both arms lifted in a good stretch with a hum in his throat. The trip wasn't short, even on his bike. Maybe he'd walk a bit, stretch his legs, before deciding where to settle for the rest of his visit. Have a smoke along the way. That sounded nice.

His helmet, which had been propped against his hip, leaned down with the rest of him to be placed inside his just unzipped backpack. Couldn't risk it being stolen. Satisfied, he zipped it back up, leaned back up, slid it back on his shoulders, and finally started walking down the sidewalk. Hands already fishing around his hoodie pocket for his cigarette pack and lighter.

Sam and Abby were great company but, sometimes, he just had to be away from everything on his own for a while. Sorta like an emotional reset button. It helped. It always did.

[westrelics]

-- cont. from here!

     Occasionally, he trekked back that way to recollect some thoughts.  At the very least, the view was worth the trip.  Arthur didn’t live far from that spot -- remaining in the mountains in a solemn living.  With how sick he had been and all the trouble he is in, it was truly the only choice he had after the gang fell apart.  After he helped John get out of that mess.  After Dutch had left him behind.      Dutch... a man’s name that he thought of often, but was now staring at the back silhouette of unexpectedly.  Arthur had been alone for so long, with only the occasional traveler he bypassed for any sort of reminder of human life, that seeing someone else-- let alone Dutch of all people --was enough to stun him into a silent freeze.  Contemplating.  A feeling of anger began to shroud that initial surprise, but his body rejected it almost -- like it was too tired to hold grudges now.  Arthur didn’t know if he had it in him to confront the other, but it’s not like he could just pretend he didn’t notice Dutch at the cliff-side.      A subtle clear of his throat as he wets his lips, preparing to speak.  Voice was cracked as he spoke out to be heard,  ❝ You won’t have to look long. ❞      Hazel eyes steadily stare as he takes in the sight of the old friend -- a man he had given his life to once.  It’s here Arthur knows Dutch will look at him and see him as nearly unrecognizable, with an untidy beard and tousled hair that has become overgrown.  The scout’s jacket he wore did little to keep him warm up here, but it was all he really had aside from hide blankets he had crafted back at his cabin.  All absent thoughts that mattered little.

     ❝ Dutch, ❞  he adds-- as a way to greet.  Arthur didn’t exactly seem happy to see him and held a cautious ground.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

         The voice behind him strikes him like a knife in the chest. Sorrow and fury surge through him in equal measure as he looks back, over his shoulder, at a shell of a man. So far removed from the wild, bold, fiery delinquent Dutch had known for twenty years or more, he just seemed tired. Exhausted beyond what words could ever convey, with hair he'd clearly done little to care for.

         Images and voices flash by in Dutch's mind. He can almost hear Grimshaw telling Arthur to shave that 'dead rodent' off his face. As ever...ghosts who won't leave him, continuing to haunt his every waking moment. His mind hadn't been right since Blackwater, and he knew it. Deep down, he always knew -- but his stubborn pride and desperation wouldn't allow him to give light to it. He had to be right. he had to have a plan, had to keep it together so he could get everyone out alive.

         Hosea had been right. Arthur had been right. So many needless deaths, all suddenly brought back to the forefront of his mind upon setting eyes once more on one of the precious few people he could say, truthfully, that he would have done anything for at one time. But the worst was how suddenly, despite it being broad daylight...he could feel it again.

         The chill of the wind. The gloom, darkness through the fog. The dew building on his skin, on the hairs of his arms. The nausea that crept up in his gut as he'd watched Arthur writhe on the ground, pleading one final time for him to SEE REASON. And he'd turned his back on him AGAIN. Just as it had that night, when he'd climbed the hill - his emotions, his guilt, get the better of him. Tears form in his eyes, but he refuses to allow them to fall. He refuses to cry in front of Arthur, as if HE is the victim in all this, when he knows damn well the opposite is true.

         "Arthur?" As he rises to his feet, his voice cracks, hard, harder than usual. High-pitched, as if he was looking at a ghost. The echoes in his mind, the voices, are hard to ignore. Especially being as most of them are Arthur, chastising him for his myriad of decisions made in exceptionally poor judgment. "I... I, cannot... Nothing I could say, could ever..." He stumbles over his words. Long gone is the eloquence for which Dutch had been known; the way he could string words together to manipulate and coerce was a skill lost to him now. It was too hard to think. He couldn't keep his thoughts together well enough anymore, and it felt as though it was only getting worse.

         "I am...sorry, Arthur. I know -- I know. It... It doesn't mean much, now. Not, after..." The memory of Molly flashes in his mind. The blood. Oh, there had been so much blood. He cringes at the memory, sure his unstable behaviors aren't making him seem any more trustworthy to Arthur than he had been that night. "You-- you were right. You, and Hosea, and... Micah." He all but snarls as he speaks the name, eyebrows narrowing. His blood boils every time he even thinks about Micah, now. Like hot magma flowing through his heart.

         "My, my mind...has not been right, for a long time, now. I... I don't even know for sure you're here. Could be, my mind, just...playin' tricks on me again. If it is... It has been wonderful seeing you, son. But-- but if-- if you're, here, then... I have failed you more than I could ever have conceived." Finally, Dutch's shoulders sag, and he turns his gaze to the ground. He was broken. But here, in this moment, a little of who he had once been emerged again. A ghost of a man who no longer existed, and the shell desperately clawing at that lost soul, giving all it has to cling to a memory.

@allnostalgic!

[spookymulti]

"Kiara." Simba's voice softened in the way it only would for his dear daughter. He pressed his head to hers in greeting. "How was your honeymoon with Kovu at the Oasis?"

@allnostalgic

[universalcarnival]

@allnostalgic gets a Rarity because I said so

One could say that the gasp that Rarity just let out upon seeing Tempest could be heard throughout Canterlot, or even Equestria for that matter. The fact is however, Rarity wasted no time in greeting their friend... in the suit that she made them.

— " Oh my stars, Tempest?? You're here, and you're wearing my suit?? "

She couldn't help but let out a giddy laugh, quickly closing the distance between the two and greeting her with a kiss on the cheek, overcome with emotions on seeing her in it again. Her excitement matches that of Pinkie, trotting in place having to get all that energy out somehow.

— " I told you it'd look positively divine on you, darling. I'm glad you could come to your senses. Now, what's the occasion? I must know. "

[sillymuses]

@allnostalgic

"What....is going on right now?" It feels like she's just walked right into a fever dream. None of what she's seeing can be real, right? "Is this normal?"

[thethndr]

@allnostalgic ♥'d for a starter | for FIX-IT FELIX JR.

— ⚡︎ "LOOK, I've been around the block a time or two with this kinda thing. You're making me want to cry just watching you."

CHICK DIDN'T REALLY KNOW what he was doing — giving advice to the competition wasn't exactly something he was EVER in the habit of doing. The goal was always to finish number one, and the chances of that slimmed with ANY shred of secrets divulged. But maybe Chick just didn't feel THREATENED by someone he could scarcely avoid viewing as a peppy pipsqueak.

— ⚡︎ "YOUR TURNS? Maybe lay it on a little thicker there, man. You've got BOOSTS for a reason."

[ghostbustingreen]

"C'mon, Lu," Mario says in a soft, comforting tone as he brings Luigi closer to him into a hug. "It'll be alright, I promise." / his big bro here ;w;

Luigi didn't need much encouragement to eagerly lean into his brother's arms. Mario's embrace was like stepping out of the freezing cold and into a warm room with a crackling fire. He felt his anxiety melting away. ❝Thanks, Mario. You're so good at that.❞ Pulling away to look at his twin, Luigi gently shoves him in a playful manner.

[monmuses]

@allnostalgic continued from here

The rain was nearly unbearable this time, pelting his metal shell harder and harder than he'd thought. In his hands, he had a battered and old umbrella that had many, many torn holes in the top, having the wiring torn out in the top. It was unfortunate, but he had been racing to find some kind of cover so he could clean himself off. His tracks had been coated in mud and the rust on his outside seemed to get worse.

But no worry! In his sight was a gazebo, and as it turns out, there was someone else that had raced to this same gazebo to escape the rain. He took his tracks and tapped them against the stairs to get the mud off before rolling under the shade and to the wood. The umbrella was still in his hands, which he safely set down before taking his minute to rest.

That was until the other figure seemed to notice him. Cautiously, he gave a soft wave with his hand, eyebrows raised. "Yoo-hoo!"

Wall-E hadn't seen anything like her before! Contrary to Rivet's cautious approach, he seemed to be more curious. His binocular-shaped head tilted to the side, getting a better look at her. She looked ... cute!

Anxiously, he offered that same hand in a hand shake, rolling an inch forward to get closer to her. Maybe if he greeted her better, she wouldn't be so worried, right? His free hand gestured to himself, tapping his front where the glass display was. "Wall-E!" He said, introducing himself enthusiastically. "You ... are ... ?"

[catfcng]

"if you can quote the rules, then you can obey them." / judy to mike!

Silence follows as he puts words together and an irritated nod's given. " Oh, aren't you somethin'? Haha, real cute bunny. "

[rotinthedark]

@allnostalgic replied to your post “@allnostalgic replied to your post “@allnostalgic...”:

the way im laughing because i know a certain someone this would appeal to as well rn-

​Haru is not prepared for the first time he catches Seb out like that. He only uses an umbrella if it gets rly nasty out.

So, he's always soaked through every time on purpose. And he sits out there for hours, if the storm lasts long enough.

[stcries]

"god, how are you not melting in this heat. i swear, i've never sweated this hard in my life." the red head groans, leaning back dramatically on the sofa. he's doing everything he can to cool off, stripping down to a mere singlet and shorts, and quite frankly, he's close to losing the top layer. "are you hiding some secret from me or something, haru? c'mooonm tell me."

↳  starter call. @allnostalgic

[outoftheirdifferences]

10 facts of Vanellope!

🌟 Drop one of my characters’ names in my inbox and I’ll tell you 10 facts about them 🌟 / @allnostalgic

Vanellope wasn't just in the candycane forest by chance when she first met Ralph; it's been a favourite hangout of hers in Sugar Rush for a long time. Even before she discovered the secret opening in Diet Cola Mountain, it was a place where she'd come to avoid the other kids - since no-one really went there unless it was to harvest the candy cane branches for Christmas time - and even after she had her hideout, well, Vanellope was never been the kind of girl to just sit around in one place. In the forest there she could run and climb to her heart's content without worrying about anyone finding her there - and even if her tormentors did, well, Taffyta and the other kids couldn't climb like she could - so it gave her at least a bit of a sense of freedom. In fact even after the movie, when she's the beloved president and has the whole castle to herself, she still likes to come back there from time to time just because she's grown attached to the place.

Vanellope's glitching can sometimes cause her physical pain, but only sometimes. More commonly she hardly notices it at all, she's lived with it for as long as she can remember and if it feels a little strange when her whole code ripples like that? It's not only basically normal for her, it also doesn't hurt: it feels more like just a little shiver of not being quite there for a moment. However, of course, her glitching is also affected by her emotions: and when those emotions, especially negative ones, make it get really badly out of control, that's when it physically hurts her. Just what she needs when she's already upset, huh?

Ralph's medal isn't the only gift that Vanellope's made out of candy or baked goods. She's pretty deft at making things with her hands in general, and in a world with no shortage of edible materials at her disposal and not a lot else to do, she's had plenty of time to practice. She never really had anyone to give stuff to before, of course; but even post-movie, if she's giving a gift to anyone, expect it to be something - whether decorative or practical - handmade from candy and stuff. Why ever buy gifts from a store when this way is much more personal?

Vanellope does have an outfit more befitting her role as president - and not her princess dress that she can't stand, but a suit jacket that at least passes for semi-formal - but she rarely wears it except on really important occasions. For one thing, she's just more comfortable in her normal hoodie; but she also liked to kinda mess with visitors to the game, see how long it takes them to catch on that this scruffy little kid talking to them is actually someone important. The reactions when people do realise it are often priceless, and Vanellope gets far too much fun out of them.

Vanellope was no longer the president of Sugar Rush by the time the sequel rolled around. That role was never mentioned in WiR2, and this is my explanation as to why; like in the real world, a presidential term in Sugar Rush is four years, and the sequel is set six years later. Vanellope, confident that she had been doing a great job as ruler and that she had the election in the bag, didn't put as much effort into campaigning as she might have done; and as such the presidency was kind of swiped out from under her. (I'm not yet sure who she lost it to, but it wasn't any of the other racers; rather, one of the candy inhabitants of the game.) She was a generally well-loved president and got a respectable number of votes still, but there were enough voices who rathered a change; and the loss sent her into a bit of a slump for a while.

By the sequel two years later she was, of course, back to her lively self... but even so, no longer having the responsibilities of ruling the kingdom to attend to had left Vanellope at a bit of a loss. She'd got so used to being involved in everything that went on in Sugar Rush and working to make sure that her constituents were happy, that suddenly finding that much of it was no longer her business was difficult for her to adjust to. This is the point at which she put a lot of her focus into exploring all the shortcuts and bonus levels and whatever else the game had to offer... and why she's feeling kind of like she's already done everything by the sequel.

Post-sequel, while it's true that Vanellope has been added to Slaughter Race's code by Shank, she nonetheless has developed the habit of making herself scarce whenever the game undergoes routine maintenance. While part of this is just because it's a good excuse to get out and go other places while she won't be missed, another part is that she is aware that things could go badly for her if one of the programmers sees this character that they didn't make running around their game. Better not to make anyone suspicious who could make life difficult for her.

As a result of not having a dedicated role in Slaughter Race due to being a newcomer, Vanellope kind of tends to insert herself wherever she can fit. She and Shank are working together to develop her own bonus sidequest to the Shank's Car mission series, where gamers can actually encounter her on her own terms; but for now, while she often tags along with Shank's crew, she can also slip herself into any of the (many) other races across the Slaughter Race map that need an extra driver - she's kind of the emergency substitute racer for if any of the other NPC drivers need a break. She actually likes this more: it keeps things varied and fresh when she could be playing in literally any race or mission at a moment's notice.

Like many large online games, Slaughter Race has multiple servers to help with player spread a bit: this means that a fairly limited percentage of the player base actually stands any chance of encountering Vanellope since, as a single sprite, she's only resident in one specific server - unlike, say, Shank, a different version of whom exists on each Slaughter Race server. Given that this means that a large number of players stand no chance of encountering her at all, the online community generally dismisses reports of sightings of her as a prank or a hoax after people have gone looking for her in their own servers and found nothing. Vanellope rather enjoys this reputation, and kind of likes trolling the players in her server by letting them get glimpses and take screencaps of her, and then watching on the forums as they try and persuade players from other servers that they're not making it up.

Since being out in the internet, Vanellope has also started hosting her own talk show on the side. (This headcanon inspired by the WiR event in Disney Magic Kingdoms where she does have that thing.) Unlike in that game, however, this isn't limited just to the Disney royalty: she will get on there anyone and everyone who she, personally, finds interesting to feature as guests. So far its broadcast audience is limited to the fellow inhabitants of Slaughter Race, but she's looking to see if there's some way she can share it with her old friends from the arcade too.

[docnefarious]

Rivet rolls her eyes. "Just get it over with and kiss already, you two!" xD

"OH NO. DON'T YOU START!"

"LAWRENCE, LOCK THE WINDOWS! THEY'RE GETTING IN AGAIN!"

[thethndr]

@allnostalgic from IRON GIANT STARTERS (still accepting) “Look, it’s none of my business, but who cares what these creeps think of you? They don’t make you what you are, you do. You are who you choose to be.” / from judy! (consider maybe her sci-fi AU so she can go into other universes and worlds? and this could be for normal chick or humanized!AU if you like the idea!)

— ⚡︎ "CARE?" he scoffed. "Lady, I couldn't care LESS."

It was a BLATANT lie; Chick never took the losses well, and even less so whenever he slipped from the top finishers — an occurrence that had been happening enough in the current racing season that it'd been begetting some poor publicity for him. But what he interpreted as a PATRONIZING comment in response to all of that would NOT fly with him.

HE FINALLY EYED the rabbit up and down; metaphorical gears whirring in his head when the delayed realization finally hit him that it was an ANIMAL that was talking to him rather than some abnormally perky member of the press or a determined fan.

— ⚡︎ "WHAT'S A CAR RACE to you, anyway? Ain't you from — uh," his eyes flicked up briefly, "SPACE or somethin'?"

[fledermoved-too]

@allnostalgic

—–📷📷📷—–

It had been some weeks since his last encounter with a particularly (in Mason's opinion) heroic gunslinger. Albert Mason only half-fondly recalled being pulled from a cliff face after foolishly having a stumble. All for some eagles.

The fondness only came in thought of interacting with the friend he'd shared such dangerous adventures with. The despair and self-pity came in greater form over just how many times he had come face-to-face with death's jaws, to be called a fool.

He knew it was true. Low self-esteem as it may be, he had a tendency to wallow on days like this. A little drink, but not too much. Just sitting out beneath a tree, watching the open trail in front of him and the tall grass swaying. As melancholy grew, he simply removed his hat, deciding to pick at the brim idly as he let himself be utterly lost in thought. He spoke and mumbled to himself, though it was not comprehensible to passersby. The ramblings of a madman.

—–📷📷📷—–

[musemelodies]

❛ you’re my family too. ❜ / from kiara to timon! (also hello!)

No, he wasn't getting choked up or anything. He just bit into a particularly spicy bug, that was all.

Timon gave a sniff, hastily brushing away a tear (that was obviously brought on by the bug) before scurrying to the edge of Pumbaa's snout and plucking a flower from a nearby bush. He gently placed it on the cub's head, smiling down at her.

"An' we'll always be here for ya, Princess. Ya can count on us."