Kenny (
enervated) wrote in
derogation2014-08-06 01:43 pm
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STEALING A PAGE FROM SCRIBBLES' BOOK AND OFFERING OPTIONS
[OPTION A: LONG DEAD WINTER]
[Walking Dead universe, here. Virginia in winter. And up near the mountains, to boot. Not the best place to be, but sometimes you're forced to play the hand you're dealt. And the cold slows down the dead, so there are worse places one could be.
It's just about the only 'good' thing that has happened to Kenny in the past week, and even then, the 'good' it is is highly up for debate. Though honestly, the bad is still stacked high, especially now. A herd separated the group and he's just trudging on through the cold streets trying to locate even ONE of the group. He'd prefer Clementine, if he had to think about it, but he wouldn't turn down Mike. Or even Bonnie. Luke... Luke, well, Luke- he doesn't want to encounter Luke, the fucking turd. Kenny's already chalked this fuckup to Luke, the boy's as bad as fucking BEN, and that takes some real talent. Some real, real talent.
He just keeps moving; a true figure of depressed, PTSD determination stalking his way through the cold, mostly empty streets. One hand on his firearm, the other on a knife. Firearm for survivors. Knife for the dead. To say he's prepared to stop anything that might slow him down from getting back with the group is an understatement.
Man, fuck this town though, how the hell is he supposed to find anybody here?]
[OPTION B: AN UNFAMILIAR PLACE]
[Your character's universe.
The last thing he remembered was the showdown against the fucking Russians. Russians. In Virginia. Of all the things. The kid in the leg brace pointed the finger at them for something they hadn't done, ambushed the lot of them. And then when Kenny fired his gun - Clementine called for help and he had given it without hesitation - they assumed he was firing at them instead of putting down someone who deserved a better life than what had unfolded. The Russians began firing at all of them, and in turn they (Mike, Bonnie, Luke, Kenny) began shooting as well.
He had one of the sons of bitches right in his sights.
And now he was here. On the ground. It didn't feel cold, and he didn't feel DEAD. Slowly, he opened his one working eye.
This... was not a cold, snowy road outside of some town in Virginia.]
Oh shit...
[OPTION C: BLIND LEADING BLIND]
[Wildcard. You get to make up the shit here, it could totally be anything.]
[Walking Dead universe, here. Virginia in winter. And up near the mountains, to boot. Not the best place to be, but sometimes you're forced to play the hand you're dealt. And the cold slows down the dead, so there are worse places one could be.
It's just about the only 'good' thing that has happened to Kenny in the past week, and even then, the 'good' it is is highly up for debate. Though honestly, the bad is still stacked high, especially now. A herd separated the group and he's just trudging on through the cold streets trying to locate even ONE of the group. He'd prefer Clementine, if he had to think about it, but he wouldn't turn down Mike. Or even Bonnie. Luke... Luke, well, Luke- he doesn't want to encounter Luke, the fucking turd. Kenny's already chalked this fuckup to Luke, the boy's as bad as fucking BEN, and that takes some real talent. Some real, real talent.
He just keeps moving; a true figure of depressed, PTSD determination stalking his way through the cold, mostly empty streets. One hand on his firearm, the other on a knife. Firearm for survivors. Knife for the dead. To say he's prepared to stop anything that might slow him down from getting back with the group is an understatement.
Man, fuck this town though, how the hell is he supposed to find anybody here?]
[OPTION B: AN UNFAMILIAR PLACE]
[Your character's universe.
The last thing he remembered was the showdown against the fucking Russians. Russians. In Virginia. Of all the things. The kid in the leg brace pointed the finger at them for something they hadn't done, ambushed the lot of them. And then when Kenny fired his gun - Clementine called for help and he had given it without hesitation - they assumed he was firing at them instead of putting down someone who deserved a better life than what had unfolded. The Russians began firing at all of them, and in turn they (Mike, Bonnie, Luke, Kenny) began shooting as well.
He had one of the sons of bitches right in his sights.
And now he was here. On the ground. It didn't feel cold, and he didn't feel DEAD. Slowly, he opened his one working eye.
This... was not a cold, snowy road outside of some town in Virginia.]
Oh shit...
[OPTION C: BLIND LEADING BLIND]
[Wildcard. You get to make up the shit here, it could totally be anything.]
no subject
"I get that..." he trails off as he looks around for his own rifle- which is not around. Alright then. He'll have to play it safe. "Had a fella, he set up a little early warnin' system around one of our places way back."
That's the closest they had to reconnaissance. "Take it you got a number of folk then. Good to hear."
no subject
Kate glances behind her, eyes narrowing against the dimming light, before looking back at him. She checked for weapons immediately, automatically. If she doesn't arm him, he's a sitting duck; if she does...
Compromise. She slides a knife out of her thigh holster, and flips it so the hilt is facing him.
"If you stab me in the back I will shoot you in the face." The words are light, but utterly sincere.
no subject
He looks up from the knife as he slides the blade between his belt and his old jeans. He isn't going to ask for the proper holster, nor is he going to keep it held. It's symbolic, in it's way, him saying with the move 'look, see, I trust YOU, now don't I?' when really he doesn't.
"And I don't think you're gonna GIVE me a reason, now, are ya?"
no subject
"Probably not, no."
She reaches down herself, pulls out two of her glocks.
She can hear their footsteps, now. Doesn't mean they're that close, but they could still get started. In a small concession of trust, she goes first. (He can't be very fast right now; if he makes a move, she can probably stop him. Assuming he really is what he looks like.)
no subject
"Last 'community' I was in," he says, not knowing that maybe he should keep quiet - after all, with zombies, you can chat away as long as you aren't TOO loud, "we got the welcome wagon. Fuckers rolled right in, tied us up, and said we belonged to them now."
It's idle talk as much as it is seeing how she reacts to that. Maybe it'll help him make a judge if her group is good people. If he should cut and run now with her knife and try to figure out where he is and where the hell his own people are.
no subject
A low snort. "You'd think people would band together, something like this, but no. You've got monsters everywhere."
She knew that years ago, of course. The demons eclipsed it, for a time, but all in all - she'll take them over the worst of humanity.
no subject
After all, he was the monster of all his groups. Lee could be too - in his way - but the killing, the harsh decisions, the blood, all ended up on his hands eventually. But at least he was a monster for the good of others. That was all that mattered, in the end; that every cruel thing he had done had been for the safety of others.
"Now, y'see, I draw the line at fuckin' psychos. Can't stand a coward but fuck me if I get a say about whether or not cowards stay. But psychos? Can't have 'em. I travel with a fuckin' kid. I ain't riskin' her."
no subject
Some people see them as burdens. Liabilities. Fortunately, the majority refuses to stop protecting them.
"I'm betting she wouldn't call you a monster." It's easy, really, to see when someone's talking about himself.
no subject
"She sure as shit doesn't see me as a hero. She takes more care of me than I do of her, anyway."
It's true. But he doesn't seem embarrassed about that fact, as evidented by a shift in his tone of voice, one more resigned and accepting. Perhaps even a little regretful.
no subject
They're walking through some of LA's back alleys, now, dank and thin and rank. (They were never that great, really, but nowadays they're covered in gore and grime.)
"Besides, there are a lot of ways to be a hero."
no subject
"Hell, I don't even wanna be seen as a hero. I just keep my people safe, best I can. That ain't heroic. That's just doin' the right thing."
He just leads when they need him to, fights when they need him to, kills when they need him to, plans when they need him to. That's not heroic. That's just doing the only job he's fit to do in the world anymore.
"And, heh, yeah, that little girl's about the only friend I got in this world anymore."
no subject
But she can't focus on wondering about him, much less trying to find him. She needs to survive, and save as many people as she can. Chances are good they'll cross paths sooner or later. Whatever else is happening, she knows what his priorities are, too.
"And sometimes - you can't afford to be a friend, and you need to be..." A cop. A hunter. A protector. "A leader."
no subject
But now those thoughts have entered his head, and he walks a little stiffer. He's trying to shut down and shut all those things out. Best to be in the moment. Don't go there.
"I make plans, but that's about it now. They ain't always the best, though, but somebody's gotta fuckin' do it."