#devilbeside

Merle:

he  despised  the  ignorance  of  the  saviors  &  the  effect  their  irksome  demeanour  had  on  both  the  citizens  of  alexandria  &  the  general  order  of  things  .  perhaps  spencer’s  recent  track  record  for  ‘TIME  SPENT  UNCONSCIOUS’  &  his  lengthy  experience  of  the  bothersome  attitudes  of  their  ungrateful  guests  melded  together  to  create  one  explosive!  monroe  son  .  his  tone  hitched  an  octave  or  two  without  purposely  intending  to  .  he’s  certain  he’ll  answer  for  his  minor  mutiny  .

                            ❝  hey  !  watch  where  you’re  going  with  that  .  ❞

“      IT   won’t   work   .       ”         Frustration   etched   across   soft   features   ,   Penny   had   been   messing   with      little   plastic   springs      since   the   night   before   ,   trying   in   vain   to   repair   a   found   barbie   doll   whose   box   promised        softball   throwing   action      ,   but   had   delivered      nothing      of   the   sort   .          “      SHE   was     free      and   we      s t i l l      got   ripped   off   .      ”

               the prison had been her safe haven  now   for what seemed like an eternity.  after her separation from her   family,   sarah was out on her own.  doing what she  could  to survive and trying  desperately   to be reconnected with her loved ones.   when she’d come across the prison it was a blessing !   perhaps philip had found it as well,  perhaps he was living within the  confines   of the fences.

                                he wasn’t,  but sarah chose to stay   ( some may call it  cowardice,  her   not wanting   to go back out there  alone ),  and grew a   kinship    to those that called it home.   her family would never leave her mind,   but her focus had been   shifted   to helping this new group.

                and when a woman appeared seemingly out of thin air,  half - dead with  baby formula,  sarah was more than weary.  she told stories of a place called   woodbury,  of a governor and that  two of theirs    had been taken by one of   them.     time passed and tensions rose and though sarah did her best to keep to herself,  helping where she could,  the impending   war    terrified her.   it seeped into her mind and images of this   governor   haunted her in her sleep.

             him and rick have decided to meet,  to discuss  STOPPING   this  never - ending battle,  and sarah somehow manages to hold a spot in the car.  she promises to stay put,  to look after  hershel   and make sure nothing goes south.    and despite her  panic,    in the back seat of the car,  head   swiveling ‘round   to watch   all angles.    they drive around,   hershel and daryl talk among themselves and once they hear a car,  sarah jumps out of the car,   gun raised despite not    fully understanding    how to use it.

                they’re just inside,   she can   barely   hear the voices,   but something sounds  . . .    familiar,   though she cannot put her  finger  on it.    the wait outside is long and boring,  but sarah finds herself comfortable up on the hood of the car.   she only catches a   glimpse    inside before the man accompanying   milton   shuts the sliding metal door. 

her  close  proximity  to  the  fire  turns  her  cheeks  a  light  shade  of  pink .  the  glow  from  the  flames  are  reflected  in  her  tired  eyes .  queenie  lifts  her  head  to  look  at  philip ,  judgement  but  not  cruelty  written  on  her  face .  he  has  quite  a  bit  to  tell  her .

❛   milton ---   ❜

she  asks ,  wrangling  with  the  truth  that  she  doesn’t  want  to  know .  her  eyes  close  for  a  moment ,  glad  she  told  him  to  get  away  from  her .  she  drags  a  hand  across  her  eyelids .

❛   what  did  you  do  to  him ?   ❜

    It’s been a couple days since she ESCAPED from Grady Memorial. The blonde is holding onto hope that her family made it out of the prison and that they are ALIVE. The last thing she saw looking over her shoulder was the prison going up in flames——all the memories they had built there were just GONE. The only person she knew got out for sure was DARYL and she knows he’s out there somewhere...surviving.

   Beth managed to get far away from the city and has stuck to the woods, she occasionally runs into the DEAD but she hasn’t seen a real person—not since Grady. Though she is following footprints, they aren’t jagged like a walkers but they look like a PERSON. She isn’t sure how old they are but she’s hoping it leads to a familiar face...her family. 

   The blonde’s hand quickly goes to her knife, fingers wrapping around the handle as she see’s the person up ahead, you can never be too careful. Blue hues scan the person as they began to turn around, shaggy brown hair and an EYE PATCH—she feels like the wind had just been knocked out of her. Her lips part, brows furrow in anger and she’s sure she’s in a NIGHTMARE.

🔫 That guy... He had gotten away and was still alive...

It took Carl a short bit to figure it out. He hadn’t at first, and had tried to steer clear of any strangers before he could be sure they were safe to be around. It was good he had, because it came to him after he noticed several features of the man traveling the forested area near Alexandria. His motivations were secondary, but Carl needed to be certain he wasn’t here with information that Rick’s group was residing him. That he wasn’t here looking for revenge.

But Carl had no idea what he was after, or if he was even after anything. Maybe the safe thing to do would just to be to shoot here and now and make sure nothing happened, but what was he really supposed to do? It had been a long time since then. A long time. Did he change? Get over it? Was he after them? How many of them did he even know? There had been plenty of them at the prison far away enough that that their old nemesis wouldn’t have recognized him - especially not now. But Carl had seen a tall, lean man with an eyepatch, and he knew Michonne had stabbed his eye out. From what Carl could remember seeing of the man at the tank, this was him.

Without answers, he didn’t want to do anything yet. Gunfire would attract walkers or even other people, or he could screw up and miss. Maybe he should have gone with his gut back then. Maybe he should have shot him when he was a really good shot. But he wasn’t anymore, and his likelihood of missing was so much higher now. Not only that, but right now, he’d felt particularly dizzy - not enough to put him in harm’s way being out here, but stress kept him from sleeping well, and he backed against a tree to keep his balance, snapping several twigs in the process.