#Merle Dixon - Redneck Captain Hook

[sonofsaviors]

@merlexxdixon

Merle snorts softly, “Boy, probably th’ smartest thin’ yer ever gonna do is not ta do that. Or really anyone at this point 'cause as yer no doubt realizin' th' goddamn dead ain't worse than the livin' in most cases these days.” And his lips curve upwards. “Daryl may be th’ sweet onna th’ two of us but even he has his limits on the bullshit he’ll take from anyone. Yer ol’ man better learn ta be careful ‘cause Southern Charm can come as a kiss with a fist.”  While he was sure the wound looked bad wasn’t worse than the one he’d done to himself. He’d be fine. What he did not want to be was beholden to the spawn of the man making his community’s life hell. Not a goddamn chance. “Been survivin’ longer’n yer been outta diapers. I can handle this,” he retorts as he drags the next one around. “Ain’t gonna be done in by a stab wound. Takes more’n that these days.” He gazes at the other sizing him up a moment. He dislikes how much these Savior pricks were making a mess of it but he has to remember that a terrible leader made for a lot of nasty shit people weren’t normally willing to do. He’d spent a year with someone like the Governor and knew that full well. However, as he considers he realizes it might be a teachable moment. If he knew some might as well give him some better training. “Suppose if yer gonna be the princess to the kingdom might as well c’mere an’ learn a thin’ or two. An’ get annoyed wit’ Ol’ Merle yer can get fuckin’ in line, sweetheart. ‘S a lon’ list. But suppose if yer wanna survive probably should know a few thin’s. An' honestly, considerin' yer daddy's penchant fer monologuin' an' that damn leather, I don' think he knows jack-shit on how ta survive outside." He slowly unshoulders a bag. "That is if yer willin' ta learn a bit."

Logan immediately scowled at being called a boy, even if it was technically true. Still, he was sixteen, almost going to be seventeen in a couple of months; he was practically an adult. He didn't care what this meat-headed moron had to say about his age. He had survived in this world since he was twelve; he wasn't going to let it beat him.

"Well that's fucking obvious. People sucked before they started dying and starting to eat each other." He folded his arms across his chest, rocking a bit on his heels and eyeing Merle a bit suspiciously. "Everyone's got limits. Ours was you fuckers attacking one of our outposts and killing people. And mine is people hurting my Dad." He growled, squaring his shoulders a bit to try and level up with Merle. He was young, but big for his age. "And my charm is several stab wounds if your idiot brother thinks he can hurt my Dad. Lots of stab wounds. In important organs and stuff." He added, a bit petulantly, but Dad was the last family he had left That was worth the threat of bodily harm to anyone who looked at him funny. Even if that person was a redneck that obviously had never figured out how soap worked.

"You got a problem with me leading the Saviors?" Logan immediately challenged afterwards, meeting Merle's gaze steadily, eyes narrowed. "I don't care how fucking old you are. It just makes you old, and cranky. And grumpy." He grumbled, but his annoyed expression had softened a bit. He was used to dealing with Simon and Dwight. There were few people grumpier then them. A lot of the other Saviors gave him shit daily, pushed him around and poked at his buttons. It was like having dozens of older siblings. Redneck Captain Hook would have to try harder.

"Leather's good against walker bites and scratches. Might think about that. Seen lots of people get bit on the arm or torso." Logan hesitantly took a seat beside Merle, still keeping a wary eye on him. "Sure it bruises, cause I guess they don't have bite inhibition anymore. All they care about is fucking eating now, but I'll take a bruise over turning." The young man's face took on a curious look as Merle offered to teach him, a bit of small smile quirking one corner of his mouth.

"Sure. Long as it's not," he puts on an exaggerating accent that might be close to Merle's, "jus' rub some dirt on it, boah." He shrugged his own backpack off, placing it in his lap and resting his arms on top. He played with one of the pins on the back, featuring a Savior's Athletics Logo. "Yeah. I'm listening. I'm listening."