ᵐᵃᶰ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵉᵃᵗ⋅

         She would rather starve, at least  she  knew          what it was to  starve.  Sophia  didn’t  know           what was exactly in the food. From the  foul          smell of it, it wasn’t good.

          "It's meat."

These days, wasn't that enough? Especially for people as shit at hunting animals as he was. Fresh meat was gold.

         She’s not going to eat that. The smell makes          her gag and causes bile to rise in her  throat.          No, she’s not  going  to  eat  that,  she’s  not           stupid.

Gareth rose his shoulders in a lazy shrug, tearing a mouthful from the  piece with his teeth. Between chews, he snorted.

     ❝ tyreese, that’s it — yeah, tell me about it. the           guy can pack a few punches, i’ll give ‘im that           much — but, hey, ‘s not like that’ll matter when           i’m done with ‘im. ❞

          his gaze idly wandered, surveying the rest of           the group in the area, though it was only a few           short moments before he glanced back toward           gareth with a quizzical expression.

               "Kill 'em.           Gotta take 'em out last, though.          Hold 'em at gun point if we can          to get the others to comply, then          kill the ones we want. Then we           can off the kids."

Gareth shrugged this while jerking his knife from it's holster, cleaning the grim from his nails with the blade.

          “We had a whole prison to           ourselves before this. We’ve           gone up against assholes           bigger and stronger than you           before — you don’t think we           can’t do the same to yours?”

Sometimes he really needed to learn to shut up; but he wasn’t about to lose that faith in his group (and especially in Rick.) He gave up with a defeated groan and looked around. Right now he just needed to find a way to have a little space for himself. Just getting out from under the watchful eyes of the Terminus leader would have made him a million times less stressed over the whole thing.

Gareth merely perked a smirk. Of course he couldn't know what any of them had gone through, but he knew what his people had.  They dominated the murderers, rapists, and thieves that attacked them. These people weren't any worse.

     “Me?” She scoffed, pointing to herself as if he had the audacity to say such a thing about her.

               "Easy !           Look, I'm not sayin' you're an --           an innate asshole,     but c'mon.           You're really gonna tell me you           haven't done anything to qualify           you?"

Gareth lifted up his hands passively. This wasn't a fight he was picking, only a point he was making.     Even good people had  evolved, even the good people.  Just look at him.

Damn it. How could he still fight against that kind of threat? Carl’s jaw stiffened and he moved to (finally) holster his gun against his thigh. It was really all he could do at that point.

          "Not gonna happen."

A humored smirk shaped his lips. Like Gareth hadn't heard hundreds of these offers before. Carl was a smart enough kid. He had to realize how stupid they were.

Hello, hello! I know this blog isn’t very old but I felt as if I should do this so I could find more people to roleplay with. I was previously alxneagain, so I have a lot of experience as Bob, however, I deleted that blog due to personal reasons.

7+ years of roleplaying experience, about a year of that was done as Bob.

I roleplay with gif icons and regular icons. Really, I’m not a fan of large gifs but I won’t turn anyone away due to choice of reply. 

I write anywhere from para to multi-novella.

This is a multi-shipping blog (and wow! I really want ships), I’m hella desperate tbh. 

         "Good."

Gareth moved closer, now in the dominate position, yet his gun's aim never faltered.      Her expression  spoke for itself. She'd slit his throat if she was ever given the chance.     He wasn't about to give that to her, though.

     ❝ it was that big guy — what’d you say his name           was? the one with the grey-haired bitch?           ty-somethin’, right? ❞

          the corners of his mouth upturned into a wry           smirk at gareth’s words, and he tilted his head           in a nod, squaring his shoulders in thinly-veiled           anticipation.

          "Wait--   Tyreese?   Shit.   You weren't           kiddin' when you said it was a big guy."

A grin found his lips. Were it to happen to one of them, he was glad it was Martin. He could bounce back, pain forming anger rather than fear. That was more than he could say for some of the others.

          "Don't start beggin, Glenn,           it's pathetic."

          ❝ what’s it look like, man? ❞

          the male raised a hand to one of the many           newly-formed bruises on his cheek in an           attempt to figure out just how bad they were           — only to wince as his efforts were met with           a painful sting, his clenched fist immediately           dropping back into his lap.

          "Like you let someone beat the shit           out of you."

He snorted the understatement. It looked more like Martin was run down by a semi. Gareth's posture remained casual, though, un-alarmed. They'd been through worse shit and always came out on top.