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.]
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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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[And then he does it. Kenny rips the walker open and all but shoves his fucking face in it. Lee stares in shock for a good five or ten seconds, and then it dawns on him. It makes so much sense. It's disgusting, but it makes sense.]
Holy shit.
We walk out of here-- smelling like them, maybe walking kinda slow and quiet, and they can't tell the fucking difference?
[Holy shit. But-- but Clem.]
The girl isn't gonna like this. But... I'll go get her and the others.
[He takes a moment to settle himself. Just the thought of smearing that shit on himself makes him want to puke, but he's seen worse at this point. He lets out a breath.]
We're walking out of here no matter what it takes.
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We don't even have to be quiet. As long as we aren't yelling, they think the talking is the same as their groaning.
[He doesn't gag or groan, just working methodically and with detachment. However he pointedly avoids his face, because hell if he's going to get any of that smeared in his open scratches. Then he'll be dead. Yep.
He exhales as he looks at Lee.]
Don't worry about Clem. She can do this. She's a tough little thing. [Kenny wipes his hands on his pants. Aside from his back, he's covered.] Ben's gonna be the problem though. Little shit passes out at the sight of blood. This'll probably knock him out.
[The thing is there, while he's calling Ben a little shit, there's a different tone to it- it's not angry or annoyed. It is, in fact, some rueful fatherly regret.]
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We can gag and carry him if we need to. It's not like the walkers will notice.
[Lee sure as hell isn't leaving anyone behind. But, still...]
All right, I'm gonna round up the house. I'll be right back. [He hesitates, not wanting to leave Ken alone out here, but he'll only be gone a moment. He jogs into the house.]
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Kenny grabs the body and hefts it up, quietly dragging it into the yard, hopefully before Lee returns with everyone. He doesn't want them to stare at him, covered in walker guts and gore, dragging around a corpse. He's had enough people staring at him disparagingly for the things he's done already. He won't have it again, not while he's trying to save them.]
I bet.
[Kenny talks to himself while he's alone, as tosses the second walker down next to the first one.]
Ben's gonna come out here, see me, and fuckin' piss his pants.
[Fuckin' Ben.]
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When they're done applying the gore to themselves, the horde is nearly upon them and they are not beautifully-voiced, dark-skinned creatures of barbaric nature. They're soulless monsters, pressing and running dumbly into whatever the fuck is in their way, and they're starting to clog the end of the street.
Lee turns to the others.]
All right, listen up. We're gonna walk out of here. Briskly. We can do that. We move a little fast, it's fine. We can even talk to each other, as long as you keep calm and don't freak out.
[He looks at Ben. Ben is fidgeting.]
We'll take it nice and easy. They can't tell we're not them-- we smell just like 'em. This will work. We follow Kenny, keep our heads down and our weapons close.
If something happens and we get separated, keep heading north. There's a river that'll take you to O'Leary Road. Black Creek. That's northeast of the old university.
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[Kenny heads to the gate in the back yard and opens it.]
There's gonna be a lot of walkers out there, so, uh, heads up on that. Ten to one, you're gonna be rubbin' shoulders. Just give 'em a little shove if you need to, they don't give a shit as long as you aren't full on knockin' 'em to the ground. That gets their fuckin' attention.
[He leads the way through the small little alley/path between the house and the wall, and he doesn't really stop to pause at the opening at the front of the house. The amount of walkers out there is fucking stupid, and the sad fact is it's their own damn fault, riding that train. IT LITERALLY PULLED EVERY FUCKING WALKER IN GEORGIA PRETTY MUCH. CHRIST.
Kenny looks back over his shoulder and nods to the group- if any of them have misgivings or fears about this now, he's intent on dispelling it in the only way possible. Kenny calmly, coldly, steps out into the herd. And none of them react to his presence. Notably, though, he slumps his shoulders, and tries to make himself seem as similar to the walkers as he can in body posture and body language. Loose and limp. He's a good five to ten feet in the herd, and he turns and faces towards the group.]
Come on. Let's get the hell outta dodge.
[The walkers don't even react to him talking. This plan isn't just brain damaged insane bullshit. In fact, while he's facing towards the group in general, he's looking right at Lee. Not a challenging look or anything of the sort so much as a very tired 'thanks for believing me, pal, i know i sound fucking crazy' one.]
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C'mon, sweet pea.
[Since no one else is going to fucking do it second, Lee and his charge join Kenny in the crowd. Now the others have no excuse... and so, slightly hunched, terrified, and nasty as hell, the group begins the long shuffle toward freedom.
Between Lee and Kenny, they can shoulder-bump most of the dumb fucks away from the rest of the group. Not that it matters-- but he doesn't want some walker sinking his teeth into Clem if she whimpers. Lee uses his arm and shoulder as a bumper so that nothing gets close.]
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Kenny turns away from the group and begins leading them through the mass of the dead. Most of them he sort of gruffly directs away, no real shoves or pushes so much as just using his body as a means to part the rotting tide and give the group behind him some additional room. Better than spreading out, he thinks. Why Jane recommended they spread out, he doesn't know, but fuck, it was the wrong idea. This way is better. Everyone in sight. Everyone together.
He's only headed vaguely north. Out of town, but near to the direction of the river and road Lee mentioned, just in the off chance someone gets separated. So they can go back and grab whoever it is and then get the hell out for real.]
Everybody doin' all right back there?
[He doesn't bother to look behind him: he needs to keep his one eye forward to make sure they don't accidentally get turned around, or so he doesn't trip over something and get the attention of the walkers all round them.]
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Yeah. We're almost through. Keep it together.
[Clem shivers and whines quietly. Lee strokes her hair with his dirty fingers, but since they're all dirty, it still kinda comes out comforting.
And they walk. They walk, and they keep going, and eventually-- thank god-- they make it through the horde of walkers. O'Leary greets them like any other road, desolate despite the touches of suburban. The old university looms behind them, its proud blue windows long since shattered from the chaos of the apocalypse.
There's a few inns and such clustered near the interstate. Lee scratches his chin as he looks at the broken Holiday Inn sign, then back the way they came. So many walkers ambling senselessly in the same general direction...]
Well, we made it.
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And another thing, too. Everyone is alive. Lee, behind him, saying they made it. Ben, scuffing his feet. Christa and Omid supporting each other. Clementine, still young and unsure but- strong. All of them, together.
He turns to face the group and he's smiling. For once in a long time, he feels some hope.]
Nice fuckin' job.
[He means it sincerely. There's no sarcastic bite or sassy wit. Just pride. They followed him blindly and here they all are, together. Family.]
Lee. You know the area, right? [He assumes, because Lee's from Georgia. Lee knows the area.] We got some time to camp out here for the day with the herd trapped in Savannah. I'd like to put some miles between us and the city, but I ain't gonna take us out only to find there isn't shit.
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And Kenny's always right.]
Yeah, I do. Went to a couple meetings at the college. [Back when he was still a teacher. Georgia Tech is a pretty nice campus. Er... was.] We take I-95 northeast, we'll be goin' through the wildlife refuge. After that it's Hardeeville and the rest of South Carolina.
If we follow the highway north, we stay in the city. It kinda curves west when it hits Rincon, but that might be dangerous too.
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Alright. We're bunkering down for the rest of the day and the night. First thing in the morning, we're heading up I-95. I'd rather stomp through a wildlife refuge than a city right about now, and I think that goes for all of us.
[At least however messed up and somewhat unhinged Kenny seems, he still has no qualms speaking for the group, throwing out commands, acting the leader. Of course, if Lee spoke up, he'd back down. He admits is better than he is, now. He's still a decent leader, but if the chips are down... everyone will follow Lee. Thank god for that.]
Christa, Omid, Ben. The three of you check any nearby gas stations and any trucks or vans. Scrounge up supplies, see if anything is operable or near operable.
Lee, Clementine. You two are with me. We're going to find the least shitty place for us to camp down in. I don't want us settling down in some shithole only to have it collapse on us.
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Sounds good to me. As long as we have supplies and stick near the road, we'll be all right.
[He hopes. It's not as if the wildlife refuge is ridiculously big, but it's definitely not something he wants to get lost in.]
Don't get pinned down.
[And with that, the group is split. Clem stares after them, then looks up at her caretaker.]
Lee... I feel r-really gross.
[Lee smiles down at her. She's been strong so far, even though she didn't get to see her parents. He can tell that's worrying her.] I know, sweet pea. We'll get you cleaned up soon.
[His dark eyes shift to Kenny.] Wanna head around back?
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Not having both eyes is dangerous these days. You need your sight most of all. Walkers are walkers, sure, but there's the type that roam, and then the type that just lurk. Quiet and still until something is close and then they lurch and grab and by then its usually too late to react.
He's aware of it. And so he does what he can. As he leads them around back, he finds a bit of rusted, broken off pipe and he scoops it up in his hand to give him a weapon. They may still stink like walkers, but if this place is decent, they'll need to clear it out.]
Don't worry, Clem. Soon as we get settled down, me and Lee'll make sure you look nice and pretty again. Not a spot on you.
[His voice is quiet, low, comforting. He wants to make sure she's okay, too. He leads them up to a back door in the hotel: the Holiday Inn that was mentioned before, it was closest. It's locked, of course, but he gives it a tug for good measure.]
Goddamnit- Lee, you got anything I could use to get this fucker open?
[He's already crouched down in front of it, checking out the lock. Muttering obscenities. He could just smash at it with his pipe but that'll be loud and draw down any walker that might be nearby.]
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Lee is focused on finding shelter. Nighttime isn't great for visibility. They'll want to lay low and quiet.]
Don't start with that urban shit again. We can unjam it with my knife. Probably.
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You know I didn't mean it that way, Lee. Just, you know, fingers ain't exactly great for picking a lock. Neither is a pipe if we wanna be quiet.
[But the knife might work so he extends his hand out, still crouched.]
Give it here. I'll see what I can do with this.
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Jesus, you really did grow your hair out. Gonna have to put it in pigtails like Clem here soon.
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My hair's fine.
[Its hanging down over his eyes.
But with his defense of his shaggy mess of hair, he turns back to the door, prodding at the lock and the area around it with a knife. He's picked up some more skills on busting doors open since Lee died. He just usually doesn't use a knife to do it, but it shouldn't be a problem.]
You try to put me in pigtails, and I'll shave off that sad attempt you call a beard when you're asleep.
[It's good to banter and be sort of... teasing with him. He's throwing himself fully into his decision, that this is real, that Lee is alive. He's always been a little good at acting when he needs to be. And so he is, so he doesn't stay a mess. It helps, too, that it's partially genuine.]
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Lee narrows his eyes but he's still playful if anything.] Don't you dare. It took me years to perfect this trim.
I'll get Clem to braid flowers in yours when you pass out.
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Oh, that how it's gonna be? Two against one?
[And the lock busts open.]
Got it!
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[He holds his hand out for his knife, since he's barehanded otherwise. Not that he'd hesitate to fight off a zombie with his fists if he had to.]
Now let's see what's in there. Clem, stay close.
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He hefts his pipe in his hands. He looks good with a melee weapon, it seems to suit him more than a gun, though he can sport a mean profile with one. The way he holds it too implies a strong familiarity with fighting with these sorts of things. It's clear he's done a lot more fighting up close than he's done shooting, now. Years worth of it.]
Probably a few walkers. We still smell like them, so we can get the jump on them easy. Quick and clean.
[He leads the way in. The place is... pretty dusty, still a mess. But it hasn't been ruined by the elements, by rain or animals. Locks and electric doors made work of that. Kenny's figuring that after the outbreak, the panic of most of the people who were here fleeing... whoever was left probably tried to barricade themselves in. Wait it out.
Those're the walkers he's expecting.]
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He sees the signs of desperate people in how dusty it is, the wreckage and chaos smoothed over by time.]
Poor folks thought they could wait out the apocalypse.
[They find the first walker wasting away of starvation, much like the kid in the attic, except... older. It can barely move. It might have been a person, once, but it isn't anymore.]
Ah, Jesus.
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Fuckin' stupid.
[He's cold when he says it, even though moments before he had been joking. Kenny always did have rapidly shifting emotions, but even then-- he simply caves in the nearest walker's head with his pipe as he passes it by. No second glance.
His head swivels though, as he moves down a hallway. Trying to keep view of his surroundings as much as he can with his diminished eyesight and another walker is crushed under his strength.]
Just don't think about 'em, Lee. We ain't got the time.
[He didn't even kill Sarita after she turned-- the thought is intrusive and he doesn't want it. The third walker to get in his way is struck down with actual passion and fury.]
Mother fuck.
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