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
He can hear him in the kitchen, speaking with Clementine. He can hear her, too. The happier, younger voice of Clementine. Not the one he's gotten used to in a short amount of time; sadder, depressed, older.
He tries to work with Lee here, in a way, because he doesn't want to upset even a Not Real Clementine. So he speaks quieter, but it's still clear he is not convinced Lee is fine and not dead.]
Fuck, man. I... I missed you, ya know? I didn't know what happened to you and Clem for two years. When Ben fell and we got separated, I- I just ran. Outta Savannah. ...I shoulda come back for you two. I shoulda.
[If anything, maybe this'll give him some chance to get some of the emotional burdens off his chest. To him, it feels like something of a confession. Perhaps it's just one to himself, more than to Lee.]
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But he keeps his hands steady, warm and real.]
Ken...
[Jesus Christ, he's been through some stuff. Lee can tell that much at a glance. It's not right for him to get knocked on the head, and then cmeshit like everyone's dead-- it's not.
When he's quiet enough that Lee can sort of talk him through it, he starts.]
I'm sorry about... whatever dream you had. But you just saw me three hours ago. Ben didn't fall from anywhere. You never left me or Clem. [He smiles halfway.] I mean it. You're the best damn friend anyone could have.
So don't go feeling bad for stuff that never happened, all right?
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Kenny wipes at his eyes again.]
I wish I could, pal.
['Pal'. God, he hasn't said that in so long. It feels rusty and strange to be in his mouth again.]
God, I really wish I could. Fuck, Lee, I want to.
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Water? No. Food? Probably not, though he's considering it anyway because a little food never hurt anybody and Kenny has a way of skipping meals to help out the littler folk.]
Well, whatever it is, I guess we'll just have to wait 'til it passes.
["I don't want to say you're crazy but you're crazy."
He reaches around the side of the couch, finds that whiskey bottle.]
I, uh... I'm not trying to pressure you into anything, but if you want a drink, there's still some left.
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Thanks.
[He looks at it for a good, long moment before taking a swig and handing it back to Lee. Part of it is some measure of trying to have control: alcohol and him had their long dark history. And to think, he had been sober for a few years before all of this had happened, spurred on by wanting to be a better father, wanting to be a better husband, supported by Katjaa through the whole thing. But things went to shit and so much for being permanently on the wagon.
The other part of him handing it back to Lee is quietly inviting the man to drink with him. Sure, Lee may be dead, but that strong, desperate part of him that wants Lee ALIVE wants to believe Lee's story that nothing bad happened and he only got smacked hard on the head is real.]
Lee. If I believe this, and I wake up... I don't know if I could handle it. Goin' back to- Clem needs me, I know that, but God. Everything's turned to fuckin' shit.
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Well. Okay. Even he knows he doesn't need it, but this is some pretty detailed hallucination on Kenny's part, and Lee feels like it will only get worse in the telling.]
The only place you're going is to bed. Just... don't make any sudden movements. God knows you could fall on a table and lose your other eye. [A very sad attempt at humor, there.] Can't have that; your aim is probably fucked as it is.
[He offers the bottle back to Kenny.]
Clem needs you here, too. And me. So take care of yourself, all right?
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As Lee goes on, Kenny closes his eyes and half smiles at the man's attempt at a joke; he even snorts a little. But when he tells him that Clem needs him HERE, that Lee needs him HERE, the smile fades, his brows furrow. For a moment, he's lost in thought- maybe he could stay? Maybe it- even though all his other thoughts bristle against him. But Ken is a desperate man who would truly take anything to get back what he had. His resistance shatters and his expression clears from dark and troubled to simply just weary and a little sad; his eyebrows unforrow and slightly lift, and he looks at Lee a little lost. But he tries to keep himself together.]
Don't worry, pal. I ain't gonna be dead weight.
[He's really trying. It's hard. He takes another swig before handing it back to Lee. Maybe he's fucking up letting his desires overrule the like, tiny bit of reason and logic he has. But it's too late now. He wants this.]
'sides.
[His tone wavers for a moment before it manages to hit: he hasn't joked honestly for so fucking long it takes a second for him to remember how you're even supposed to SAY a fucking joke.]
Ain't that just a liiiiiiittle bit hypocritical comin' from you? I've seen you fall on your ass more times than I can count. Maybe if it were you missin' an eye, that'd happen. But me? Naw.
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But Kenny's tone steadies and it's a joking one, much to Lee's surprise.]
Hey, man. I don't always fall on my ass.
[A beat.]
Sometimes I fall on my face.
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And so he sets himself to it.]
Yeah, you do...
[He looks Lee straight in the eyes - as well as he can manage. It's really more looking Lee straight in one eye, really.]
Lee. We gotta get out of this house. Round up Christa, Omid, Ben, and Clementine. Stayin' here is a fuckin' death sentence.
[Kenny pauses for a moment. Then he swallows, unsure. While he had been tossing out those preliminary orders/commands with a bit of conviction and determination, now his tone seems to be pleading.]
You'll listen to me on this, right?
[Please.]
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That's a little sudden, [he says, trying some attempt at levity.] But I've been thinking about that, too. The town's basically picked clean.
[He doesn't want to say that it's a death trap, but it's a death trap. Thankfully, Kenny seems to be of the same opinion. And considering Kenny was just deposited ass-over-head in a parking lot as walker bait, maybe his point of view isn't so strange after all.
Lee's lips form a line. He leans forward, drops his voice a couple notches.]
Ken. Did you-- see something out there?
[Because even if he's fuckin' flat out crazy, Lee still has his back, somehow.]
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He's still adjusting to being blind in one eye so for now he turns his head slightly to the left, and looks at Lee that way. It's at least widened his general range of the room but sucks for peripheral vision.]
I don't need to see shit, Lee.
[He has dropped his voice as well, quiet and low.]
You think I'm crazy, alright, sure, but you know you oughta listen. So let me tell you, pal. There are a couple thousand walkers fuckin' pourin' into Savannah right now. We are boxed in.
[Kenny points at one of the boarded up windows. He doesn't even look at it. He doesn't need to. He knows what's out there.]
I bet you anythin', you walk out there more than three blocks in any direction, and you'll see the dust kickin' up. See the front of the herd. We can't. Stay.
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You just don't.]
Oh my God. That's-- that's not a herd. That's a fucking massacre. Jesus Christ.
[He drops his head into his hands.]
How are we supposed to get out? Vernon took the fucking boat. There's nothing left.
[And here he thought they could take a nice midafternoon stroll and just not come back. No. Fuck no. Staying here is definitely not an option. Not with fucking two thousand walkers pouring into the city.]
Maybe... Shit. Maybe we can go back down into the sewers. Head north, pop out at the edge of town and just... make a run for it. Shit. I told Clem we'd look for her parents, but... shit.
We are so fucked.
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[Kenny is stepping up now; his news definitely punched Lee in the gut so he's got to be the strong one for a few minutes for his pal's sake, and his tone of voice, the sudden sharp look to his eye tells it. He almost seems a little more detached than usual as he continues to talk. It's that visible shift where Kenny basically shuts everything off except single minded focus on a task. Keep movin' forward.]
We fuckin' sawed your arm off down there in that morgue, and I don't fancy goin' down there again. And aside from that, the whole fuckin' system is packed full of walkers anyway - or will be.
[He inhales harshly and stands up. Then he puts his hand on Lee's shoulder.]
I ain't lettin' us fuck up again.
[The hand resting on Lee's shoulder turns into Kenny giving the man a solid, supportive thump on the shoulder.]
C'mon. I know how we're gettin' outta here.
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Even if he's talking madness, Lee still takes him seriously. Maybe it was a bad dream, whatever. He's gonna keep justifying whatever he can if it means getting Clem out alive. He knows it's stupid to trust a guy who apparently thinks he's done all this before, but, fuck, it's Kenny. As long as he tells Lee what's going on, Lee will make his own judgments about the situation.
He rubs at his temples.]
I have no idea how you know this shit, but at this point I don't want to know. Whatever happened between a couple hours ago and me finding you... It obviously fucked you up. Whatever it was.
[He gets up.]
We can't just fly outta here, Ken. What's your idea?
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[He's a little more snappy than he means to be, and for a moment, he looks remorseful. But just as fast, he's back on track. He can apologize for being a bastard later. For now... the group has got to get out of here.]
Anyway. It's a trick I learned from Clem. Who, uh... learned it from you.
[If he were a smarter man who took the time to think about things, the whole situation would probably give him a migraine. But as is, Kenny feels a little more awkward than anything as he heads towards the back door.]
We're gonna need to lure a walker back here.
[He opens the door, and already he can hear in the distant droning of the dead- the wordless grunts and groans and ragged sighs pumping through rotting throats. Oh yeah. They're coming alright.]
You got your knife on you? Figure I'll do the distracting. Should be no problem getting one of the fuckers back here.
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Though Lee is feeling like his loyalty is being damn tested right now. He stares at Kenny flatly as they stand in front of the back door.]
You want to what? Jesus Christ, Ken, you're-- you're fucking serious. [He can hear the groaning too, and he makes an effort to keep his voice down to a harsh whisper.] I'm trying to keep Clem out of danger, not bring the entire fucking neighborhood down on us!
[Fuck. Fuuuuck. He has a really bad feeling about this. Lee hisses through his teeth, looking like he's in physical pain from how fucking crazy this all is. But in the end, he hands Kenny his knife.]
I'm so gonna regret this.
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Reassurance, again. Not the cocky, false bravado of the white trash leader, no, but the quiet, soft, almost rueful tone of someone who just wants to take care of his loved ones.]
Lee. You know that I would do anything to keep you and Clem safe. I'd do anything to keep my family safe.
[He squeezes the man's shoulder lightly.]
I lost just about everythin' I damn near loved, but... I got you and Clementine back. I ain't gonna let anythin' fuck this up. [A brief pause, as he tries to joke a little.] You know me, pal. I'm an ornery, paranoid sumbitch and I'll be any kinda monster for the people I care about.
[Kenny smiles a bit.]
I'll bring it back dead, alright? Then you ain't gotta worry that I'm bringin' live walkers into the yard just for kicks. I promise, this'll make sense when I show you what the plan is. And if it doesn't, hell, you can give me a few good smacks around the head for bein' a fuckin' idiot. Deal?
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Complete loss does this to people. It breaks them. Sometimes the pieces form something new, and sometimes they just lay there and do nothing at all. But Ken isn't like that. He could be-- but he's not.
And neither is Lee. When Ken says that he's family, Lee believes him.]
I know. If you're a monster for protecting your own, then we're monsters together.
[He raises his eyebrows.] ... Are you really gonna be okay out there by yourself? [Seriously, Ken. You look like shit.]
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What matters is having someone there who knows that you're still who you are, even if they've been utterly ruined. Lee and Clem are the only ones who understand him anymore. (Or in Clem's case, she will understand him, when she's older.) But for now, the kinship of Lee, that's his backbone. It's hard to be you without someone else there who understands.
Kenny meant it, when he called himself a monster. He knows he has to explain to Lee later just what it means: that he bashed a man's head in and he enjoyed it, that he's a man who ENJOYED killing another person. Not just killing out of necessity. But hearing Lee call himself a monster as well soothes his thoughts out. Lee'll understand. To think, two years ago, he was angry when Lee hadn't told him he was a murderer.
Now it's just something that makes him feel closer to the man. For now though, he finally drops his hand from Lee's shoulder, after letting it linger there for maybe a moment too long.]
I'll be fine. To be honest, I'm half startin' to think I'm invincible.
[He chuckles to himself.]
Been shot, escaped a boxed in alley, almost starved to death, had my head caved in, walked through a herd while another 'group' was firing assault rifles into it... and hey, I'm still here.
[Kenny slips out the door and calls behind him.]
I'll be about five minutes. Wait at the gate for me. I'm gonna bring one dead, but I can't promise one or two won't be tailin' me, and I don't wanna fuckin' struggle with the damn gate while haulin' a body in.
[A pause.]
And don't follow me if I ain't back in those five minutes.
no subject
[He nods to the order, and moves to follow Ken outside. He'll wait at the gate-- but no promises if Kenny doesn't come back. He's not one to sit around and be protected.]
Then do me a favor and make sure you get your ass back here in five minutes. [In the meantime he'll find something else to arm himself with. He grabs the nearby shovel, holding it with a tight grip. He's a little apprehensive-- and who can blame him? His best friend just came back completely delusional.
He's scared, but... like hell he'll admit it. Not right now.
Right now, he has to be backup.]
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But he hunches his shoulders together against that thought and quickly stalks out into the open and out of view. Yeah. He can already see the front of the herd, slowly and aimlessly shambling towards the house. As long as he doesn't do anything too suspicious to make the few with good eyes peg him as alive, he should be able to pull this off...
And there's a good target. A slightly removed walker, not bunched up with a few others, staring vacantly up at the sky. For a moment he's glad he didn't tell Lee that he hasn't... exactly done THIS part before. The whole 'pick one target off' nonsense. Lee probably wouldn't have let his fool ass out if he had said that.
So Kenny quickly tries to figure out what to do to just get the one's attention and- there we go. He grabs up a small rock in the road, thank god for things being in fucking shambles, and lobs it right at the fucker.
And the rock smacks it in the back of the head, breaking it out of the WOWEE WHAT A PRETTY SKY trance it was in.]
Hey, motherfucker! Right here. Come on.
[He doesn't quite yell- his voice is just barely above speaking volume to try to keep the few nearby from swarming right on him. It does the trick, as the one begins lurching right over. Kenny's fingers fidget around the handle of the knife before locking down; he swings and embeds the blade right in the walker's forehead as soon as it gets in range.
Pretty good for a first try. Now he can lie and say he's an expert at this if pressed. Killing one walker without a hitch makes you an expert, right?
He grabs the body as quick as he can and begins hauling it towards the gate. THAT gets the attention of one other walker, but Kenny's got enough distance that he isn't going to stop what he's doing now. So he rounds the corner into the path to the gate, dragging the walker with the knife still embedded in its forehead.]
Lee. LEE. Open the gate!
[He's not looking behind him to see if the gate is open but please Lee open the gate so Kenny can get this thing in ASAP and then y'all can shut that thing or take out the other asshole walker that thinks Kenny is just. So neat. So neat.]
no subject
Anyway, he spots Kenny and his victim struggling and opens the gate quickly.]
It's open! I got you covered!
[He grabs the shovel he's chosen for his temporary weapon. Although the walker tailing Kenny is pretty slow, Lee isn't about to let his best friend become zombie chow. He darts past Kenny and his new friend. If something jumps out of the alley or something, Ken's vulnerable; Lee won't stand by and let an ambush happen again.
There's no hesitation here. Without even needing to get within grabbing ranch, he destroys the walker's head with a wet crunch. Ew. That... probably won't wash out.
That done, he wastes no time getting back to Ken and shutting the gate behind them.]
You all right?
no subject
[He says quickly as he drags the body in while Lee makes short work of the walker behind him. He doesn't even look back because he knows Lee can handle this, can keep them safe. So Kenny crouches down and begins to yank the knife out of the walker's skull. Damn, he got it in there good.
And then Lee is back, a little splattered with brains and gore. Kenny grins up at him as he finally gets the stupid thing out of the walker's skull.]
Well... I'm blind in one eye and I might have brain damage.
[The grin combined with the tone - light, and almost a little derangedly playful - makes it clear he's fucking joking. The fuck, Ken.]
no subject
Jesus Christ. If we didn't have the herd right there? I'd whoop your ass. No question.
[He drops to a crouch near the walker. A safe distance, though.]
So. What's the plan?
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Sorry. I'll try to keep the bad jokes to myself.
[But with that he repositions Lee's knife in his hands. Then he brings it down right on the dead walker's chest, hacking into the center of the decaying flesh and the weaker ribcage.]
We're- [He grunts, trying to work at this as quickly and cleanly as possible.] -going to walk out.
[Kenny doesn't look up as he gets through the chest, then slides the blade down to cut an opening in the stomach. He doesn't look up either as he gently tosses the knife next to Lee. Doesn't look up as he thrusts one hand into the open cavity of the walker's stomach and grabs a chunk of rotten organs.]
Lee. Walkers are dumb as hell. They can't fucking tell the difference between us and them when we smell like they do.
[And with that, he looks up, and smears the rotting flesh on his own left shoulder without so much as flinching.]
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