#like they are her family. especially gregory. she was the tails while he was the sonic at that time. but greg is always gonna be tails.tome

[sotogalmo]

5:05 am

“Sorry for all of the trouble squirt. I was just trying to find ya a real family.”

“i got a real family. I got the best!”

“Yeah? Where?”

“Family is just people who care about each other more than anyone else, right?”

“Right?”

“You're it! You're my mom. You're my dad. And you're my picket fence.”

“Woah!”

“You're not gonna use the L word, are ya'?”

“Well...”

“Then I will, cause it's a great word!”

“i love you little bro!”

“Now I got something even more important to say.”

“Noogie time!”

“(laughing) Boy! It's really great to be home.”

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 5 of 30]

As always, Mature Content. NSFW. 

 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list. Thanks for reading and welcome new readers. You all keep me going!

If you enjoy it please, comment/reblog/ask a question/or like.

Thank you to @cherrystainedlipsbaby for translating my words into Arabic. I love the BP fandom, y’all jump in to help in a pinch!

Summary: Erik has words with Yani and later helps her in a predicament with the assistance of Tahir. Meanwhile, Klaue plots out the Angola job that makes Tahir uneasy...

"Buss a couple rounds inna me

Ah mi sniper dat

Sit dung pon di buddy like a Cadillac

He bawl out Ah mi rider dat YOW

Take off my heels

And let me unbuckle your jeans now

Meh arch ma back and bawl out

Yuh gimme heart attack Yow

My baby he know he a blessing

He know I could never forget him

I can't lie

You the best I ever had

Take me so high

Make me bawl out Ohhh

Yuh gee it to me rough then yuh take it slowww

Ah mi sniper dat…

Monéa – "Inna Di World"

Killmonger.

Yani watched him dance with Peach, an old high school friend who was always kind to Yani even when she was talking slick about her cousin Twyla behind her back. Peach had two children already and by the way she was winding her body on Erik, she probably wanted two or three more from him.

Killmonger…him smooth, yeah…real smooth as his hands circle around Peach's waist. A real dirty dancehall plays, straight nasty riddum, and Peach lets her ass do the talking for her. Erik stays with her, his left hand pressing the arch in her back and Yani is stunned to see him reach for Peach's braids and pull her head back. 

The woman is all smiles as she slows her hips down and just bounces on Killmonger's groin. And he likes it, thrusts back into Peach, and Yani turns her eyes away because she can feel her midsection quiver and her face get warm with irritation. Why does he have to dance like that in front of her? Zachary held her hips tight. She could feel his chubby erection snug against her rump. He wanted her tonight, but she was still skittish about sex with him.

Being with Chez made her lose trust with men, and no matter how nice Zachary was, how kind he was to her baby and her family, she kept him at arms-length when it came to full intercourse. She pulled away from him slightly when she felt him giving her tiny thrusts.

"Aye, Fam!" Cee Cee, their oldest female cousin squeezed onto the dance floor with Boogie, Donald, Sonya…the whole darn family crew that came to see Kendall. Junior spun an old Hip Hop joint that had her family on the floor doing something they did as children when music played, "The Swap" which was simply all of them dancing and then when Dex yelled out a cue, they would all switch partners on beat. It was fun and they hadn't done it in so long that she kept messing up when she forgot to listen for the cue which was Dex calling out "Galiber! Switch dem!"

Zachary couldn't keep up so he kissed her cheek and left for the bar, and Yani found herself becoming competitive with her relatives. She held her dress up a bit in one hand so no one would accidentally step on her hem. It got a bit rowdy when other people joined in the fun, essentially turning the family play into a line dance.

When Yani saw Peach twirling around her cousin Dulan, her eyes searched for Erik, but then Dex called out the next cue and Yani jumped to her left….

…right in front of Erik.

He had a big smile on his face when he saw her.

"Whatchu got, Ma?" he asked, and his dimples challenged her to impress him.

"Can you even hang, Killmonger?" she snapped playfully.

"Question is, can you hang? I can do this all day, girl."

The hottest Soca jam came on and the crowd turned stupid, Erik's eyes flicked around to see what everyone else was doing. The dancing became the domain of professionals now, and any tourists who thought they could keep up soon left the floor. It was Virgin Island show and prove time. And Killmonger had the nerve to still be there among them. But he was keeping up, and then some. His eyes never left hers and she felt her heart pound harder and faster. She was quite sure he could see it thumping in her chest. His hands slipped down to grip her hips.

Yani spun around and let her hips dip, the hem of her dress still clutched in her fingers, her legs shimmering with sweat. She could see Peach and another woman in a white dress with long locs swaying near them, waiting for Dex to give the signal so they could swoop in on Erik. Yani swept her eyes over to Dex, watching his lips, sweat flicking off of him, his shirt molding onto his body tight from all the perspiration pouring out of him.

"Galiber! Switch dem-!"

Yani saw the other women lunge forward, and she pushed back against Erik's groin, the weight of her backside throwing him off balance. He grabbed for her waist to counterbalance himself and the movement blocked him from switching to someone else.

Junior slowed down the beat of the music, chopping and screwing it up old-timey style until the song was like a heartbeat. Peach was hovering, her body rolling smooth like the tail of a winding Boa snake.

"I see you, Ma!" Erik called to her and Yani leaned forward, gently shaking her hips knowing her ass cheeks would bounce.

"Shit," Erik said laying the palm of his right hand on her lower back, his left hand rubbing her left hip.

Once she felt his touch, she shifted back up and bent her knees, her hips circling, hands clutching her dress tighter to outline her rump, moving just so-so until she had her cheeks jumping with nothing else on her moving. She just needed his eyes to stay on her—

"Ooh, Yani…" Twyla said.

He moved his hands.

Damn.

Erik's fingers gripped her shoulders, his waist glued to her ass and moving slow. She could feel his shaft poking through and she let the center of her cheeks grab at his dick. They were moving in tandem like they were fucking, the music setting the pace, the thin material of her dress letting him feel all of her softness…

Erik slid his hands down to her waist and twirled her around to face him.

"Nobody needs to be seeing all that, girl," he said while stroking her back, "especially your man."

Yani closed her eyes, shame filling her face.

Zachary.

This was supposed to be their night.

Erik's left hand held her waist again while his right hand eased up her side and cradled the nape of her neck.

"You were great up there. Your cousin, Kendall…he was really good too."

"He's choice, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He licked his lips and his eyes glanced around like he was looking for someone. His face moved closer to her until his lips were near her ear. She felt her breath exhale out of her mouth in short pants when she felt that scruff from his beard on her cheek again. Her neck arched back and she felt his warm rum-flavored breath tickle the shell of her ear. Her fingers slid up his arms and clasped just below the smoothness of his neck.

"Before you went off on Chez…you were singing to me, weren't you?"

A coy smile played on her lips and she tried to look away from his eyes, but he kept moving his head in front of her until she stared back at him.

"What if I was?"

"You got a man though."

"It was just a song, Killmonger. Mi play fuh dem, the crowd. Freestyle comes straight from here and out there," she said pointing to her forehead and then away from her face.

"Nah. That shit was for me. Only me."

"If you say so—"

"You were looking at me."

"I was looking at the audience—"

"You were looking straight to the back, where I was. You heard me shout to you. You ain't gotta lie. I felt that shit. You did too."

"Whatever."

"How come you wouldn't let me switch?"

"What?"

"I know you threw that ass on me to keep me from dancing with someone else. You real obvious, Ma. It's cute though."

She sucked her teeth.

"See, I know you know I'm right. Whenever you do that, I know I got under your skin. I been drinking a lil bit, but I'ma say this anyway. I like you. I don't know if I freaked you out or crossed the line when I touched you the other day, but when I didn't see you all day Friday, I thought I fucked up and scared you. But the way you sang that song…for me…I know…"

His words wandered off.

"You know what?" she asked, her fingers squeezing his neck gently.

His eyes were focused elsewhere.

"Yani?"

Zachary's voice was peach fuzz soft and Erik pushed away from her and she felt her legs automatically step forward towards him, trying to keep the heat from his overwhelming body next to hers.

"Respect," Erik said giving Zachary a sincere smile, "was just telling your girl what a great singer she is. Thanks for the dance, Yani."

She watched Erik leave the dance floor and her body felt cold and lonely without him. Zachary's hand went around her shoulder.

"You know him."

"He works for Mr. Klaue. Him and that other guy."

Yani couldn't even look Zachary in the eye, her gaze would reveal too much if she did look at him.

"Is he nice?"

"Yeah. They both are."

Yani walked away from the dance floor with Zachary. Her cousins Cee Cee and Monice drank Bushwackers and watched them approach, the whipped cream from their drinks leaving traces on their lips.

"You leavin' cuz?" Cee Cee asked.

"Are we?" Zachary said, a gleam in his eye.

Yani was going to spend the night at his place. He agreed to go at her pace, do whatever she wanted. Her eyes were still watching Erik as he sat at the bar with his friend. The woman in white already at his side stroking his back.

"Yeah, we're going," she said.

Her eyes went back to the dance floor where the rest of her relatives were still throwing down.

"Tell Kendall, I left, yeah?"

"Go on, he's high as a kite right now. Him tell you Bunny and Gregory want him to record a single?" Monice said.

"Yeah? That's great!" Yani said.

She hugged her cousins and clutched onto Zachary's arm.

Warm air greeted them outside, much cooler than the hotbox inside.

"Going to my place still?" Zachary asked.

"Yeah. But I have to be back home by ten in the morning. Auntie is going to church and Anika won't be able to stay after ten."

"So…are you…are we…"

"Easy boy…calm your pants."

Zachary grinned.

"You were choice tonight, baby. Chez…him no see you coming with guns blazing…blam, blam…"

Yani giggled.

"Him nuh ready fi mi—"

The words crumpled in her throat.

Chez and his minions were hanging out in the back of the parking area smoking cigarettes and shooting the shit.

"Here mi gyal come with that fire," Chez said. He was smiling at her, but a man like him showing teeth like that wasn't a sign of kindness.

Zachary pulled her back behind him.

"We don't want any trouble. No problems, here Chez," Zachary said.

Yani gripped his arm. Her purse was locked in Zachary's trunk. Her cell phone was in it. She debated about running back to the club to get Dulan and Dex. Or maybe even Twyla. There were three guys with Chez and only two of them.

"Who said there was trouble?" Chez said.

"Chez, just leave us alone," she said pulling Zachary along.

Chez stood in front of her.

"Whose watchin' mi pickney?"

"Sydette is fine. No need for you to worry—"

"I'll take you home," Chez said throwing down his half-smoked cigarillo. He stomped on it and grabbed for her arm.

"I have a ride home with Zachary," she said pulling away from him.

Zachary stepped forward and Chez shoved him back.

"You think yuh taking her home with you? Think you fucking my woman?"

"Would you stop?!" Yani yelled slapping Chez in the face.

"Bitch…putting your hands on me?!"

His hand shot out to grip her again but Zachary struck him in the jaw. The surprise punch only grazed Chez's chin.

"Get you some, nigga!" Chez shouted and pummeled Zachary.

"Chez! Stop it!"

She charged Chez as he held Zachary in a headlock punching him in the side of the head, but Chez's two friends blocked her. Yani reached down and took off one of her sandals and proceeded to strike both men blocking her and they pushed her back, still preventing her from getting to Chez and Zachary.

Zachary was able to get some punches in and Yani stood horrified watching her ex and next go at it. Chez had the upper hand and his third friend jumped in kicking Zachary in his side. Yani ran back to the club half barefoot.

"Goddess, why are you running?"

Erik's friend was outside smoking a cigar, the pungent odor wafting around him with the smoke.

"There are some guys beating up my boyfriend!"

The handsome Arab man followed her back to Zachary and Chez.

"Zachary!" she groaned when she saw his face cut and his nose bloody. Chez was still beating on him and Zachary was flailing to protect himself, no match for Chez and his goon squad.

"Not looking good for your man. I'm afraid," the stranger said.

"Whatchu doin' way over here…oh…damn…"

Erik strolled over with a cigar in his hand. His eyes saw the worry in Yani's face.

"Make them stop!" Yani wailed.

Erik pulled her aside while Tahir grabbed one of the men and shoved him away from Zachary.

"Hold this," Erik said handing her his cigar.

Erik strode over to Chez and with just one hard punch to the right side of her ex's waist, Chez went down on one knee gasping for air and clutching his side.

"Fuck!" Chez screeched.

The Arab man helped Zachary get up while Chez jumped back up still heaving with pain. He swung wildly at Erik who simply stepped back from the scattered non-connecting punches.

"Why don't you just stop before you wear yourself out," Erik teased before grabbing Chez's shirt, lifting him up, and slamming him against Chez's car door.

"Take your punk ass home," Erik said.

"Killmonger!" Yani yelled dropping Erik's cigar.

One of Chez's boys pulled out a gun and pressed the steel to the back of his head.

"What now, bitch?!" Chez cackled, expecting Erik to release him.

"You best use that piece before I turn around," Erik said. His eyes were still on Chez, his hands still clutching Chez's shirt.

Chez's other friend also pulled out a gun, but Erik's buddy moved like a ninja and snatched it out of his hand so quick, Yani missed Erik turning around and, yanking the gun out of the other gunner's hand hemming him up. Erik head-butted him then smashed the gun across his face. Blood spurted between the guy's fingers.

"He broke my fucking nose!"

Erik popped the bullets out of the small gun and flung them over his shoulder before shoving the gun in his waistband.

"Get the fuck on before we really hurt y'all," Erik said, his voice calm.

Chez fumbled for his car keys and Yani ran to Zachary trying to hold him up.

"Should we go to the hospital?" she asked Zachary. His eye was swollen and his nose and lip were bleeding.

"No," Zachary grumbled rubbing his jawline.

Erik and his friend watched Chez and his boys drive away before they turned to check on Yani.

"You okay?" Erik asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks for handling that. They were waiting for us…waiting fi me."

"I don't think your friend is in any shape to drive. Can you two get home?" Erik's partner asked.

Yani stared at him.

"That's Tahir, he's cool," Erik said.

"I can drive," Zachary said.

"No, you can't. You look like shit," Tahir said.

"I can't drive a stick," Yani said.

Erik looked at Tahir. Then Zachary.

"Give me your keys, man," Erik said.

Zachary only glared at Erik with his one good eye.

"Give him your keys, Zachary, I can't drive us to your place."

Yani saw Erik staring at her. She felt her face get warm.

When Zachary didn't move fast enough, Yani reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys. She handed them to Erik and slipped her sandal back on.

"The car is over here," she said. She held Zachary's hand as she led Tahir and Erik to his car.

Yani slid into the backseat of the little black Nissan hatchback with Zachary.

"You don't even know these guys that well," Zachary hissed in the backseat, "you could've gotten your cousins—"

"I was getting my cousins, but they were available first. Did you wahn mi waste time looking for dem while yuh getting your ass kicked all over the place?"

The words flew out before she could filter herself and she felt Zachary's whole body cave in from the impact of her words. He turned his face away from her and looked out of the back passenger window. His handsome face was swollen and his once jovial looking-eyes were sour with rage.

"Zachary…I didn't mean it like that…they jumped you. It was an unfair fight…"

"Zachary, man…listen. You did what you were supposed to do. Protect Yani," Erik said from the front seat as he backed the car up.

"Make sure you stay on the correct side of the street," Tahir said from the front passenger seat.

"I got this. Yani, which way?" Erik asked.

She gave him directions as they headed East toward Red Hook.

"Zachary, let me see your face," she said turning on the overhead light. "Turn it off!" Zachary yelled pulling away from her again.

She turned off the light and shrunk back to her side of the backseat.

"Watch how you talk to her," Erik said. Yani caught Erik's eye in the rearview mirror.

"Who the fuck do you think you are—"

Zachary didn't even finish his sentence before Erik jerked the car to a sudden stop in the middle of the road. He turned his head to look back at Zachary, his face in full scowl mode, lips parted, his gold slugs menacing in the shadowed light. But then he looked over at Yani. She felt so embarrassed and scared about what happened, and the coldness coming from Zachary had her confused and hurt. Erik's face relaxed. He stared back at Zachary.

"Look. You got caught in a fucked up sitch. Got your ass handed to you. Trust, I've been there and it sucks when your woman is there to witness that shit. But it is what it is. Don't take your beat down out on her. This ain't her fault or your fault. You were outnumbered. You should feel grateful that she's okay. You took that shit for her. Now own it and get over it, bruh," Erik said.

"Car," Tahir said drawing Erik's attention back to the road.

Yani pressed her head against the passenger window as Erik continued driving. The prick of tears formed in her eyes and she felt them roll down her face. She quickly wiped her cheeks. When she glanced over at Zachary again, he was still hunched up in the corner ignoring her.

"What do you want to do with the guns?" Tahir said.

"Minraji'un ma'na 'ala al villa. Khaleehum," Erik said.

"Rah yerja'oo yidayqu hadul al tnain mara tanyeh? Yerja'oo yedawroo lil asliha?" Tahir asked.

Erik shifted gears on the car.

"Min la'eehum ba'dain. Zyarah mufaja'a mshan ya'rfoo shu rah yeseer lahum iza daya'uhum. Lazim deer bali 'ala Yani. Yimkin abu binta yedayi'ha bisabab ma saweat," Erik said.

Yani's eyes watched Erik and Tahir speak to one another in Arabic. Erik's voice sounded concerned, and she heard him say her name in their conversation.

Erik drove Zachary's car smoothly. Tahir turned to look at her.

"I enjoyed your performance."

"Thank you."

Tahir saw her wipe a tear from her face. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small packet of tissue. He handed one to her. She took the tissue and wiped her eyelids, trying to avoid hitting her false eyelashes.

"You are too pretty to cry, Miss Yani. A Goddess does not cry. Only men cry for her," Tahir said.

Erik's eyes glanced back at her again and she turned her head away from him to look out of the window.

"Take a left here," Yani said.

"Stay on the left, Killmonger," Tahir said slapping Erik's arm with the back of his hand.

"My bad, my bad," Erik said.

Yani smiled.

"Bidak yanah nmoot?" Tahir said.

"No, I don't want us to die. Shut up. I got this," Erik said.

"Your insurance is good my friend?" Tahir said back to Zachary.

Zachary ignored them all and Yani felt the mood chilling once more between them.

"Right over there Killmonger, the orange house," Yani said.

Erik drove in front of Zachary's family home. His apartment was attached to the house.

"Do you know a good cab company that can pick us up?" Erik asked looking back at her. She wiped her eyes again to make sure they didn't look too bad. She glanced at her watch. It was two in the morning. Shit. She didn't even think about them getting back to the compound. She wished she had learned how to drive a stick. Sometimes cabbies didn't like coming to this part of Red Hook late at night.

"I can call a cab for you, but they might not come," she said.

Erik glanced at Tahir. She felt bad.

"I told you to let me drive my own damn car, Yani, now you got these guys stuck—"

"We're not stuck, we can walk," Erik said glaring at Zachary.

"We can drive to my Auntie's house and I can use her car. If you guys can bring Zachary's car back here, I can drive you back to the compound. I'm sorry for all the confusion—"

"Don't be sorry girl, it's not a big deal," Erik said. He saw her wipe her face again and he smiled at her.

"It's an adventure, we cool. Right, Tahir?"

"Cool like ice cubes," Tahir said.

"Zachary, let's get you in the house to clean up first," Yani said.

"No, let's go get the other car. I'm not letting them drive off in my car with you in it. I don't know them. You don't know them."

Yani kept her mouth shut.

"Which way to your Aunt's?" Erik asked.

She gave him easy directions glad the apartment was less than five minutes away.

When they arrived at her Aunt's place, she ran up the stairs. Her little sister Anika was wide awake watching tv.

"Why are you here? I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow," Anika said.

"What is happening?" Leona asked coming into the living room, her housecoat wrapped tight, her black satin bonnet covering her hair.

"I'll explain when I get back. Can I borrow your car Auntie? Chez beat up Zachary and him hurt bad. Mr. Killmonger and Mr. Tahir helped us and I have to get Zachary's car back to his place. Mr. Killmonger is driving it and I need to give them a ride—"

"Go, go, tell me all when you get back."

Yani took the car keys to her Aunt's late model Ford Focus.

"Want mi come with you?" Anika asked.

"No, we're okay. How was Sydette?"

"You know she's a good baby," Anika said smiling.

"Be right back," she said running out of the house.

Yani drove her Aunt's car alone as she had Erik follow her back to Zachary's house.

When Erik and Tahir stepped out of Zachary's car, she watched her bruised and brooding boyfriend stalk away from her as she grabbed her purse from his trunk.

"Zachary," she said.

She ran after him grabbing onto his hand.

"I'll help get you cleaned up and then we can drive them back," she said.

"We cool chilling out here when you're ready," Erik said.

Tahir was already pulling out another cigar to smoke.

"All this driving back and forth," Zachary lashed out. His ire was directed at Yani. She shrank back from him.

"What are we supposed to do? Leave them stranded?" she said, her voice raised. Erik and Tahir heard her.

"We can take the car back ourselves," Tahir said.

Yani reached up for Zachary's face.

"Let's take care of you, okay?" Her fake nails trailed down his uninjured cheek.

"Yani," he whispered.

"I fix you up, and we take them back, then we can be together…okay, love?"

His hand reached out and rubbed her shoulder. "I'm…I'm tired. I can take care of myself…"

"You don't want me to stay with you?"

He shook his head.

A light came on in the main house.

"Shit," Yani said.

Zachary's father came outside. He had on pajama bottoms and a white undershirt.

"What's going on?" he called out.

"Everything is fine," Zachary tossed back. Mr. Harris walked down his porch steps, his large body lumbering toward his son.

"My God, Zach, what happen to your face?"

Yani stepped forward to explain, but Zachary pushed her away.

"Go," he said.

"Go?" Yani answered with a tremulous voice.

Erik stepped forward.

"Who are you?" Mr. Harris said, "you do this to my son?"

"No, Sir—"

"He helped Zachary, Mr. Harris. My ex-boyfriend started trouble—"

"Oh, so this is your fault, Yani? See, Zach. What I tell you?"

Yani felt her lip tremble.

"Yani. Let's go."

She felt Erik's strong calloused fingers clasp her hand.

"I'll take you home. Don't worry about getting us to the compound. We'll stay in a hotel around here. C'mon," Erik said.

Yani watched Zachary walk into his father's house. He didn't even say goodnight or look at her.

"Hey…Yani," Erik said.

His free hand lifted up her chin to look at him.

"He's embarrassed and his face is jacked up. Ego bruised. Let him sleep it off. He'll get back to you."

He squeezed her hand. She didn't want to let it go.

"I'll drive. Give me Leona's keys," Erik said.

She handed them over without letting go of his hand. He led her to the passenger seat. Tahir opened the door for her, then put out his cigar.

They found Leona waiting on the balcony still in her housecoat when they arrived back to the apartment.

"Auntie," Yani said.

Erik and Tahir followed her up to her home so they could relieve themselves in the bathroom before looking for a room.

"Mr. Killmonger. Mr. Tahir," Leona said.

"We'll be out of your hair soon," Erik said.

Leona gave him the biggest smile.

"They're going to find a hotel. They don't want me driving them back to the compound this late—"

"Just stay here, Mr. Killmonger."

Yani's eyes grew wide.

"Anika can sleep in your room and the men can take the couch bed. No sense wasting money for a few hours."

Tahir looked at Erik and Erik glanced over at Yani.

"I mean, if you're cool with that, we'd appreciate it. We can catch one of the island buses or cab back to the compound early," Erik said.

Yani stared at Anika who was ogling both Erik and Tahir. Yani didn't blame her. They both were too damn attractive to ignore, even after a rough night out.

"Is that blood on your shirt, Mr. Killmonger?" Leona asked.

Yani heard Sydette crying in the bedroom.

"Excuse me," she said rushing into her room and turning on the lights.

Sydette shook fists inside her crib that sat between a double bed and a twin bed.

"Hey, Sweet Pea, I'm here," Yani said.

She picked up her daughter.

"You smell so good, I wanna gobble you up."

Sydette gurgled and Yani cradled her, rocking her in her arms gently. She lifted her own arm up for a moment.

"Whew, Mommy smell ripe, Sweet Pea. Anika!"

Her sister walked into the room.

"Ohmigawd, that Killmonger told us what happened at the club. Chez really beat down Zachary?"

Yani nodded.

"And he pulled a gun?"

"His friends did."

"What is wrong with him? He is so stupid….sorry, Yani. I know that's your baby's father, but he is mean to people. And Zachary is so sweet. Is he okay?"

"I think so. He was upset—"

"How long are those men staying at the compound?"

"You can't even give two minutes for Zachary and you're already talking about them?" Yani teased.

"Dem sexy. I notice right away. They single?"

"They are way too old for you."

"Dad was way older than Mommy."

"That was different. They were much older before they had us."

"Killmonger…" Anika said, all dreamy.

"What about him?"

Anika's face went all googly-eyed again.

"You so silly," Yani said, even though she was feeling the same way after holding his hand.

She felt like she went through so many extremes. The coldness of Zachary and Chez and the warmth of Erik when he brought her back to Leona's.

"Can you watch Sydette for five minutes? I'm going to take a quick shower."

Anika took Sydette who fussed for a few minutes.

"She hungry…again," Anika said going out of the room.

Yani heard her Aunt still talking to Erik and Tahir. She grabbed clean nightwear and jumped into the shower fast. She wasted no time cleaning off, even using a cotton ball soaked in baby oil to loosen and remove her fake eyelashes. Once she felt clean and fresh, she changed into her shorts and over-sized t-shirt.

Back in her room, she took Sydette in her arms with a milk bottle Anika held.

"I'm going back to the living room—"

"No, you not. You stay in here now," Leona said.

Yani watched her Aunt's face as she stepped into the room. She couldn't read what she was thinking.

"Auntie," Yani said.

"Zachary no want you to stay with him?" she asked.

"Mr. Harris took him in the house. Blamed me."

"Samuel is an ass. Mi never like him. We talk after church when I get home?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay. Goodnight. And don't let her bother the men—"

"They are watching tv, my show. This the only time I can stay up this late and watch scary movies, and now I'm stuck in here. They not even using the couch bed. Mr. Tahir is lying on the floor with a pillow."

"Leave them be," Leona said again.

Anika hopped on Twyla's bed.

"I hear Kendall was good tonight, yeah?" Leona said.

"Him awesome, Auntie. You would be proud—"

"Killmonger say you were on stage too. Him show me video later. How it go?"

"What he say?"

"He seemed impressed. Both of them. That Mr. Tahir says you sounded like an angel."

"I do okay."

"Get some rest."

"Okay."

She heard her Aunt's bedroom door close and her little radio turn on. The soft muffled sound of gospel music played quietly. It would turn off with a timer. Her Aunt always fell asleep fast.

Anika rolled over and faced the wall, her voice still grumbling about being sent to bed.

Yani stuck the bottle nipple in Sydette's mouth. She found comfort being home and with her child. She was happy that she didn't have to explain the situation. Erik took care of everything, giving her brain time to readjust before going in-depth with her Aunt after she went to church.

Sydette drank from the bottle and Yani watched her face.

"You not sleepy yet little one, eh?"

Yani heard the toilet flush and the water from the sink running.

"Auntie?"

"Nah. Just me. Your Aunt gave us little toothbrushes to clean our liquor breath."

Erik stood in the bedroom doorway. He was wearing one of Kendall's shirts instead of his bloodied one.

"She gets those from the compound. Mr. Klaue has her buy them in bulk for the men over there."

"Hey, there she is, Lil Mama," he said watching Sydette.

Yani smiled.

"I can't believe she's still up. We had been doing good with her sleeping through the night."

"She knows when Mama is gone. Waiting up for you."

Anika turned over and stared at Erik.

"Where yuh from?" Anika asked.

"Massachusetts."

"Go to sleep," Yani said, glaring at her sister.

"Nuh sleepy. I want to watch my tv show."

"Auntie told you what you supposed to do—"

"I'm sixteen. I'm not a little kid no more. I watched Sydette by myself all night. I can care for a baby, but can't sit up and watch tv? Serious?"

"It's because you are a young woman among two strange men."

"Two strange men staying inside the apartment that you invited."

"Tahir is knocked out on the floor. You can watch your show for a few more minutes if you let me talk to Yani alone," Erik said.

"Alone? Hmmm," Anika said.

Yani jerked her head toward the door.

"Okay. But if Auntie wakes up and says anything, I blame you."

Anika ran out of the room, and Erik cracked the door a bit for a little privacy.

"Okay, Sweet Pea, time to finish up. Bedtime," Yani said.

"Sweet Pea?"

"I call her that. She so round like a little pea in a pod."

"I like that better. I'll call you Lil Mama instead."

"Mi nuh little."

"I know that for sure."

Erik's eyes held hers and Yani felt nervous being with him. The kind of nervous that came with bad decisions. Poor decisions. Lack of impulse control. Something she was very familiar with when it came to men.

Yeah, him dangerous. A bad boy. And bad boys have always led her astray.

She focused on Sydette.

Erik sat down next to her on the bed, close enough so that his shoulder touched hers.

"She's cuter than I remember. Can I hold her?"

Yani lifted the bottle out of Sydette's mouth and Erik picked her up and held her in the crook of his muscular arm. Taking the bottle from her hand, he placed it in Sydette's mouth and her baby girl accepted Erik as if she had always known him.

"You have experience with babies? Have kids?"

"Experience, yes. Kids? Nah. Baby cousins. I can change diapers and do their hair too," he said.

His dimples relaxed her. His eyes went to stare at Sydette as he held her bottle, and Yani's Sweet Pea stared back at him as her cheeks and lips moved to squeeze out sustenance with his help. Unlike Yani, Sydette had big black eyes, unwavering eyes, bold as a brick through a window. She had eyes that read people well, and when she liked someone it showed with her being content in their presence. She was Yani's barometer of good energy, and thus far, Erik was good enough for her daughter.

When her bottle was empty, Erik handed it to Yani and lifted Sydette up, his left palm cradling her chest while his fingers supported her chin and jaw. He allowed her to lean forward a bit as his right hand gently rubbed her back in circles.

Yani reached for a clean bib and held it next to Erik just in case something more than a burp came out. Sydette made little sounds with her mouth, her eyes looking up to watch Yani's face.

"You're being such a good baby, Sweet Pea," she said.

Her daughter gave a juicy smile with a little drool and then a loud burp came through.

"Big one," Erik said chuckling.

He leaned Sydette back in his arm and played with her right hand, her fingers grasping his and holding them. Yani wiped the little bit of drool that slid down her chin with the bib.

"How often does Chez see her?" he asked.

Chez.

Ugh.

"Not much. Sometimes he stays a few minutes when he brings me money for her. And that isn't much. It's why I work three jobs."

"Three? Damn. How much time do you get to be with her?"

"Not enough."

"Were you working on Friday?"

"Yeah."

"So you weren't avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?"

"What we did, by the pool…"

"Oh."

"How you feel about that?"

"I liked it."

Her words seemed to please him. He had a grin on his face as looked back at Sydette. The baby was squealing and grasping for Erik's wrist.

"She likes you."

"She has good taste."

He pulled down Sydette's yellow t-shirt so it covered her stomach better. She kicked her bare feet in the air and Erik tickled one toe making her laugh.

"I don't understand why Chez would ignore his baby. She's adorable."

"Him have another baby-mother he stay with."

"Before you or after you?"

"During," Yani said.

"Ouch."

"My baby three months older than that other one. Some tramp him knock up while I carry Sweet Pea."

Erik played with Sydette's curls.

"He ever beat up Zachary before?"

"No. They don't know each other, not from the same circles or nothing. He's seen him before, but…no problems like tonight."

"How long you been with Zachary?"

His warm brown eyes were on her face again.

"Almost three months…talking to each other for about three months, but just now starting to date. When I have time. This was the first time I've gone out in a long ass time. Dress up y'know? And of course, Chez ruined it. Zachary won't ever speak to me again."

"You don't know that—"

"Chez had his friends pull guns on you. You think him want to be with a girl with a crazy Ex like that? I wouldn't date me after that shit."

"How serious were you two?"

"You getting all my business, Killmonger."

"I'm nosey."

"Yeah, you are."

They both laughed.

"How serious?"

"Why you want to know?"

"I told you already."

"Told me what?"

"I like you."

"You like my tits."

"Your tits like me, that's why they do what they do."

Yani felt her mouth drop open.

"You ain't answer my question yet."

"Zachary?"

"Yeah."

Yani felt Erik's arm press into hers. So much heat radiated off of him.

"How you say you like me and you just met me? You don't know me at all," she said.

Yani had to put a stop to this.

She felt herself stumbling into her old habit of falling for men she should avoid at all costs, no matter how beautiful they were. The warning signs were screaming at her: Working for Klaue. The scars on his body. The gold slugs that were shaped like big sharp cat teeth.

He was even smart enough to figure out her body's reactions to him. She was surprised her tits weren't tripping with him there on her bed.

"I know enough to know that I like you. You work hard. You speak your mind. Your Auntie adores you and supports you. This beautiful little girl in my arms that you bust your ass for…you can make iguanas move faster than a speeding bullet—"

"Funny!" she said hitting his shoulder with her shoulder.

"I like how you sing, how you try to speak standard English around Klaue but that island patois keeps popping out no matter what. The way you move when you swim…how you're looking at me right now."

"How am I looking at you right now, Killmonger?"

"Like you want to kiss me."

"Tuh—"

"Kiss me, Yani."

"What if I tell you that Zachary and I are serious?"

"Then I'd say I know you're lying, cuz if that were true, you wouldn't let me get this close to you. On your bed."

A small sigh escaped Yani's throat. His face was so near hers.

She acted willingly stupid once more.

Kissed him.

Pressed her lips into his while he held her Sweet Pea, the fresh mint of toothpaste on his breath as his tongue swept inside her mouth seeking the heat of her own tongue.

His lips swallowed hers and she let him have at it, the breath in her throat trapped making her shaky, almost faint. She pulled back from him, a sliver of saliva strung between them when they parted. Yani wiped his lips and then hers.

Erik stood up and placed Sydette inside her crib. The baby was awake on her back, but she was quiet and calm lying there. Erik knelt in front of Yani and cradled her face in his hands.

"You're not serious, right? Tell me the truth, cuz if you are, I will stop."

She didn't answer because she honestly wasn't sure.

"Yani," he said, and took her mouth again, exploring every nook and cranny and crevice, taking ownership of the moist space between her lips. She rested her hands on his shoulders, afraid to touch anywhere else. She was well aware that her bedroom door was ajar and anyone could walk in and see them.

He sucked on her bottom lip and she let her fingers trace the curves of his ears. Her lips took control of his, and he submitted, his hands traveling under her shirt. She was braless and when she felt his fingers tweak her nipples, the sensation shot down to her clit and she released his lips.

"Ooh," she sputtered, pushing back from him.

His hands continued to play with her breasts and she felt the tingly hot sensation of her milk falling down.

He lifted up her shirt and she felt his lips latch onto her left nipple, the pleasure from his sucking causing her to whimper softly. His lips and tongue were really tugging on her and she felt her milk release into his mouth.

She clasped the sides of her shirt with both hands and lifted it higher so she could watch him suck her, his mustache and beard grazing her nipple and her cleavage as he moved his face across her chest and latched onto her other nipple. Her head fell back and her knees shook.

"Killmonger," she panted, "stop…please."

He groaned and she looked back down at him as he opened his mouth and squeezed her right breast, a stream of milk squirting right onto his tongue. His head turned toward the crib as he licked his lips and swallowed.

"She's asleep, don't worry," he said looking back at her, massaging her tits, and watching pale liquid drip from her peaks.

"God…" she mumbled, her eyes unfocused, his touches leading her into a world of trouble.

The fingers of her right hand dropped down to her shorts and she fumbled with sticking her hand between her thighs…

"Jesus!" she moaned when she felt Erik's fingers passing hers inside the material and scissoring her slick clit.

"It's okay for me to touch you like this, right? Let me know, Yani…fuck you are so wet, girl…"

"Taste mi wet sugah," she whispered.

She widened her thighs for him and peeled back the crotch of her shorts.

"Fuck, Baby," he grunted, dropping his face down, his generous lips covering her vulva. She heard the loud wet kiss he gave her down there, the hot feel of his mouth knotting her stomach with nervous anticipation of being caught. The wide swathe of his tongue licked up and down her engorged folds, but then he stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Killmonger?"

He kissed her swollen lower lips again and then sat back up, bringing his face close to hers. His cheeks and beard were shiny with her slick, his eyes glazed over like hers. He shook his head like it pained him to stop.

"Shit…you so fucking sweet, Yani. I don't want to do this here. I don't want to upset your Aunt or disrespect you in her home."

"Yuh no disrespect me, man. For real. I want you to kiss me there some more…"

There was mirth in his eyes and he leaned in and kissed her forehead instead. She felt his finger graze her clit again as he fixed her shorts. She saw the obvious tent in his crotch, his thick imprint straining against his pants.

She grabbed for his neck, tried reeling him back to her hot mouth, but he clasped her hands in his.

He took a deep breath. Several actually. He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead again.

Her cell phone startled her as it vibrated on her dresser. She jumped up and grabbed it before it woke up Sydette.

"It's Zachary," she said.

"You don't sound happy about that."

Erik stood up and glanced over at Sydette.

"Yellow is her color. Yours too," he said.

"Killmonger—"

"Talk to Zachary."

He left her alone with the baby.

###

She was too much.

The ride in the cab back to the compound was a quiet one. Tahir was still a bit hungover, and Erik didn't get any sleep in Yani's home. He never slept for more than three hours a night anyway, but he never felt his eyes close at all sitting on the couch in their living room waiting for the sun to rise. Tahir snored on the floor, and Erik stayed sitting upright, his balled fists resting on his thighs.

She worked three jobs.

Barely saw her child.

Had a quarrelsome and violent Ex.

Maybe had a boyfriend who couldn't protect her without getting bodied.

Lived in a household that gave her no privacy.

His jumping into the mix was not going to help her. She really didn't need three men and a baby to juggle.

And damn if she didn't feel and taste like heaven on earth. Told him to lick up her wet sugar between her generous thighs.

"Fuck. Me," he thought, watching the scenery go by as he stared out of the cab window.

Back at the compound, he took a long cold shower in his new room inside of Klaue's main house. Klaue was down on his beach swimming, so Erik had a bit of quiet time to himself. He fixed himself some plain black Kenyan coffee and scrambled eggs, wishing he had some shrimp and cheese grits to comfort him.

He wanted to go swim in the cove, but it would only have him think of Yani, and thinking of her made his dick hard. Jerking off in the shower didn't help, and his lips kept itching when he thought of sucking milk from her tits. And licking her pussy…

When Yani peeled back her shorts he got to see up close that pretty pussy with the fleshy inner labia. He'd eaten plenty of pussy in his life, seen all shapes and sizes of vulvas, clits, and inner lips. Yani's pussy reminded him of something primordial and from the sea itself, soft and ultra- slippery like the wings of a manta ray spread wide and floating free. How would those inner lips feel like if he pushed his length into her? Would they curl around the root of his shaft? Or stay open and welcoming, cushioning his heavy sack?

He was sprung and he knew it. Cursed it, but accepted it. The island lowered his defenses, but it wasn't too late to try and wean himself from her. The team would be leaving for Angola in two weeks, and distance had a way of cutting off interest for him.

He had to compartmentalize again. Shelve this girl and put his energy into Klaue and the next mission. There was a woman Klaue wanted him to check out who had exceptional cyber tech skills, fresh out of the Air Force and hungry for mercenary work. Linda. That was her name. Solid reputation. Vetted by a former colleague, but Erik wanted to vet her himself before Klaue offered her any spot on the compound crew. Some women were tricky when it came to mercenary work. They could sometimes be a hindrance, especially in certain Middle Eastern and African countries with strict gender roles. 

The arsenal they were moving was huge, expensive, and had to clear through several checkpoints before making it to their final base. They needed an ace to handle cyber subterfuge, and there was no time to waste if this Linda turned out to be a dud. Procurement of the munitions and heavy artillery had to be done for Klaue's clients soon. There was so much political instability and so many gratuitous mini-wars blossoming across the continent that money was being made hand over fist. Afghanistan was next on the list, but throughout it all, Klaue and Erik were on the hunt for more vibranium. The black-market value was at a premium. They just needed to be one step ahead of the U.S. government, the World Security Council, and some elements of S.H.I.E.L.D. Linda had better be up to the task in keeping up with Klaue who had fingers in several armament pies globally.

Erik swiped on the tv mounted inside the kitchen island counter and switched the channel to the BBC news feed.

"Tony-fucking-Stark," Erik mumbled when he saw the man speaking at a U.N. council meeting.

He sipped his coffee and watched his former mentor speak. The man had a few more grays in his hair and beard. Being Iron Man was aging him fast.

What would Tony think of him now?

Erik was a long way off from being that fresh-faced nineteen-year-old intern running around Tony in Malibu, trying to keep up with him and absorb what he could. He remembered the constant monitoring at M.I.T. and Tony's unannounced pop-up visits to Cambridge, always trying to convince Erik to forget the Navy.

"Now look at us," Erik whispered, his coffee gone lukewarm. Both on a mission to change the world.

"Still an arrogant ass no matter whose side you're on T," Erik said.

He flipped the channel to the cartoon network hoping the background animation chatter would be the white noise he needed to relax.

"Finally back," Klaue said, sliding open the side kitchen door. He tracked in sand from the beach as he wiped his arms off with a large white beach towel.

"All nighter," Erik said re-filling his coffee mug.

"I'm sure the ladies loved you two last night."

"We had an interesting night. What time do you want to start tomorrow?"

"Early…eight. Leona will fix a brunch spread so we can work through the afternoon. I want us to test some munitions on the gun range and start booking flights into Jo'burg."

Klaue stared at the scars on Erik's bare chest.

The man never questioned Erik about the markings, just like Erik never questioned the brand on the side of the man's neck. Erik already knew what that shit was. His father had taught him a bit of the Wakandan language, and he knew how to write a few words using the Wakandan symbolic alphabet. The brand on Klaue was a combination of two graphemes that when spoken issued the sound of a lowlife.

Thief.

Without knowing all the details in full, Erik knew his father's people had captured Klaue and burned his pale treacherous skin before the man escaped. Branded for life with twisted angry red flesh. Not only was the maggot a thief of vibranium, but the thief of a legacy, Erik's legacy. And his blood. He quickly looked away from his enemy and drank more coffee before his eyes narrowed, betraying him, and he did something he would regret. The tv screen on the counter turned solid blue with a chipper automated female voice announcing the arrival of someone and then a picture of Tahir popped up.

"Entrance granted," Klaue said aloud as the front door opened and Tahir entered the domain.

"Killmonger? Klaue?"

"In here," Klaue called out, pouring himself a coffee and standing near Erik.

Tanner in color, hair glossy and damp from swimming in the pool, Tahir looked like the perfect tourist.

"Good morning," Tahir greeted.

"Coffee?" Klaue asked.

"No thank you. I'm cutting back on caffeine," Tahir chirped, using his fingers to pick up pieces of Erik's uneaten scrambled eggs.

"Savage," Erik joked. Tahir washed his hands in the sink.

"Any word on getting you on with us for this leg of the world tour?" Klaue asked.

"Nothing yet. But I'm good for Afghanistan," Tahir said sitting on a barstool and glancing at the BBC news feed.

"Excellent. I was just telling Killmonger we have a busy day tomorrow. Be prepared to do some gun range shooting and going over the shipment with the other men."

"Sure thing, Boss."

The landline rang.

"The call I've been expecting. Excuse me for a moment," Klaue said exiting toward his bedroom.

It was odd living with Klaue in the main house. He had a master bedroom with a tremendous view of the ocean that he didn't use. Erik was staying in that room. Klaue took a smaller less spectacular room in the back of the house, away from the open views.

The man was a night owl, mainly taking overseas calls and juggling his next big take. He slept in late every morning until usually ten in the morning. He would sometimes go for a swim and then meet with them for late lunches. It was rare to see him at breakfast, Leona or Yani taking a plate of food for him to heat up in the main house. Like Erik, he enjoyed solitude, but when Klaue was around people, a burst of his extroverted energy would engulf the surroundings. Almost a wild savage need to be the main force in the room. Erik noticed he had cut back on drinking, probably preparing for the mission. Sobriety wasn't the man's strong suit, but he did get down to the nitty-gritty when it was time to talk and do business.

Erik's eyes glanced up from the tv screen.

Tahir's face was full of concentration.

"Ma busiq bihada al Klaue. Rah yekhounah," Tahir said.

"You don't have to trust him, just trust his money. And he won't betray us…not any time soon. He needs me," Erik said. Tahir's face looked uncertain, even with Erik's confidence.

"I don't know, my friend…"

"Inta khalee Klaue la ilee. Rah ntali' minu masaree wa nitruko li alnusur," Erik said.

"Okay, okay. I'll leave him to you as you say. Make this money and bounce. But leave him to the vultures?"

"I said what I said."

"Personal."

"Business," Erik said with finality.

"Maybe I will have some coffee," Tahir said picking up a coffee mug.

###

Erik stuffed earplugs in just before Klaue began the loud rapid-fire shots from the Israeli 308 Semi-Auto rifle.

"This has very mild recoil," Klaue said when he stopped firing.

"Decent weapon, they've been copying the Russian AK-47s and the Finnish RK 62s over the years. You should get a good price for them, but you should really stick with your South African supplier. Not a great demand for Galil ACEs in Africa," Tahir said.

Erik watched Polk, Huntsman, Shipley, and the others as they took turns firing new AK-47s and a few South African Vektor Battle rifles.

Their targets were struck with the hard metal pings of steel on steel, each man a crack shot. Erik was more interested in the smaller arsenal of handguns. A new small arms gun culture was sweeping many parts of Africa and several African countries were manufacturing some of their own weaponry. Being South African helped Klaue do a lot of cross border arms trafficking in his own country, and he was able to make quick sales that would prove more lucrative as time went on. Especially with so many arms embargos occurring in East and North Africa recently.

Erik waited for the men to finish with his gun pointed downrange. His eye protection was warming up from the sun and he could feel sweat sliding down his cheeks.

When it was his turn to go, he let loose a fast clip of shots.

"Hold up! Hold up!" Klaue called out, staring at his cell.

Everyone stopped shooting.

"Refreshments gentlemen. Break time," Klaue said.

Erik put the safety on the gun and placed it on his side holster. When he took off his goggles and popped out the earbuds, he saw Yani and Leona walking above them under the gun range veranda pulling little wagons filled with food and drinks.

Erik and Tahir followed the men up to where the women set out big plastic dispensers filled with lemonade and ice water, along with platters of turkey and roast beef sandwiches. Thank you's were given to the women, and Erik did his best to ignore Yani.

She was once again dressed in a simple t-shirt and some loose sweats, and when her eyes sought his he turned away from her, filling up a large plastic cup with ice and lemonade, turning to face the ocean when he drank.

Klaue glanced at his watch.

"Take a half hour and we'll continue," Klaue said.

Erik grabbed a roast beef sandwich and walked away from the gun range. Yani and Leona stayed put, and he could hear Tahir speaking to them. There was no way he could stand there and eat knowing that she was going to bore holes into his face with her eyes, trying to read what he was feeling.

He sat under the veranda of Klaue's main house and watched a cruise ship approach the island far in the distance.

"Killmonger."

Fuck.

He put down the sandwich he had wrapped in a napkin on a patio table near his chair.

"What do you want, Yani?" he snapped.

Her face looked taken aback by his gruff response. He hoped she wouldn't start doing this, following him around the compound and being obvious.

She held out a cell phone for him.

"Mr. Klaue asked me to bring this to you," she said.

"For what?"

"A phone call, I guess," she said, her face now neutral with him.

Phone call?

Then he remembered. Klaue wanted him to have a new satellite phone that went through him and not Erik’s own personal one. He said he was going to pass them out during lunch.

"Oh…yeah. Thanks—"

She turned around abruptly and stalked away from him.

Great.

"Yani…hey, hold up…"

He trotted after her.

"I'm working, like you," she called back to him.

Let her go.

Erik stopped following her. He was supposed to compartmentalize. Stay on the grind. Leave that girl's hectic life alone.

He finished his sandwich and turned the cell on. Memorized the number.

Back at the gun range, the women had left and they all continued going over weapons with Tahir checking the product samples that they would be moving in Angola. Klaue wanted Tahir prepping his men to know what to look for in case some duds got through or someone tried to slip some well-manufactured imitations that the Ghanaians, Somalis, and Nigerians were creating on their own and selling as counterfeit product. Erik could tell Klaue was desperate to have Tahir with him.

Tahir was still leery of the man, and this made Erik appreciate his associate more. He could sense the foul in any situation.

Erik spent the evening in Klaue's living room researching Linda Chambers on his laptop. Her military record was standard-fare with a few commendations for her work while being stationed in Bagram Air Base in Parvan Province Afghanistan. Discharged as a technical sergeant, Linda spent time working for AramStar a private security contractor before popping up on the deep web offering her services. He made a few calls on his own phone, and then surfed some private links to get some intrusive factual data on her.

Single. Home base New York. Clean record.

He ran her credit and noticed a large amount of debt. Some overextended credit cards. A defaulted loan. Forty-thousand still owed for a two-year-old beemer. Broke with expensive tastes.

He stared at her military picture. Cute. He found some online photos on her private social media account. Cuter. Sexy even when she went all out.

She needed money. Her military and cyber tech skills were valuable on the black market. No shame in looking for big pay. She enjoyed skiing, mountain-climbing, and hang-gliding, all adrenaline rush hobbies. She also spoke Arabic.

Could be a keeper.

He sent a private encrypted message to her. If she was good, it wouldn't take her long to break the code and get back to him. Especially if she was hungry for the life.

Laughter outside.

Klaue, Tahir, Huntsman, and Klaue's long-time partner Limbani walked up the hill from the beach.

Yani stood outside near the veranda holding a stack of towels. Erik glanced at his watch. It was almost dinner time. Why was she still here? Who was watching Sydette?

He put his computer on sleep mode and walked out onto the wrap-around veranda. The men took the towels and headed up to the first house for dinner. Yani was trailing behind Klaue and the men when Erik caught up to her.

"Yani. Why are you still here? Who is watching Sweet Pea?"

"I work later when all the men are here. Auntie can't do everything by herself with this many people."

She'd been there since seven that morning. Ten hours away from her baby so far.

"Who has Sydette?"

"Twyla doesn't work today and Kendall is home now too. She's fine."

"She have enough milk for today?"

He had no idea why he said that, but it made her smile.

"She have plenty, Killmonger."

He wanted to live inside that smile.

"I have to go help, Auntie. Dinner ready in about fifteen minutes. Steak tonight."

"Cool…"

She turned to leave.

"How is Zachary?"

"He's okay. He texted me. We didn't talk over the phone. Mouth too sore…"

Her voice had that enchanting lilt that he came to crave so much.

"Are you two…I mean everything will work out for y'all, right"

Her eyes dropped away from his and stared at the ground.

"I don't think so. He didn't sound positive, and he's scared of Chez…so…it's probably best."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's hard, y'now…hard being with me. He comes from a good family, and he's a Mama's boy, and his Mama doesn't want him with a woman with a child already. He's finishing at the University soon and needs to concentrate on that."

"His loss."

"Yeah, well, mine too I guess."

The early evening sunlight struck the side of her face illuminating her satiny skin. He wanted to stroke her cheek and tell her everything would be fine and that she'd find the right guy someday and all the stuff that people needed to hear when their hearts were broken or breaking.

Truth was, he was glad Zachary couldn't hang. Punk ass. Pouted like a little bitch in the backseat of the car when his woman needed to be hugged and reassured after witnessing violence like that. Young niggas nowadays just didn't have the balls anymore to just take an ass whooping like a man and keep it pushing. Win some, lose some. Next.

"I don't know what else to say, Ma, except I'm sorry."

"I'll be alright. I gotta go," she said pointing up toward the front house.

"Yeah, you better dip before your Aunt comes looking for you."

He rubbed his palms together and took a step back from her.

She walked away from him.

Damn this girl.

Taking quick long strides, Erik caught her hand in his and pulled her back against him, his head lowering to hers as he took her lips once more. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms holding his wide shoulders tight.

This was madness, their sloppy wet kisses making him tumble further down the rabbit hole with her. Their heads shifted left and right, each trying to devour the other's face. She let go of his lips first.

"I gotta go, Killmonger!"

"I know," he said catching her lips again, his hands slipping down to clutch onto her ass. He pushed her up against one of Klaue's coconut palm trees.

"Shit," he huffed when he felt the warmth and shape of her vulva molded against his dick. He had on light linen pants to protect his legs from all the mosquitos, and they both could see the large bulge standing up as her pussy rocked against it, and fuck if she wasn't grinding on his shit. He could feel his pre-cum leaking. He rubbed his dick back into her with the same amount of pressure she gave.

Once he had good balance, he lifted her up a bit and bounced her on his length, knowing her core was dripping. He rotated his hips, hitting her mound from different angles, always keeping that delicious friction

"You're so hard…I can feel all that big dick…this how you fuck, Killmonger?"

His voice hitched in his throat. How could she make such a dreadful nickname sound so erotic in his ear? She had him groaning hard and he wasn't even inside her fat pussy yet. He found an angle that his dick hit that made her clamp her mouth shut, and he stuck with that friction. He was hitting that clit just right because her head fell back and she was whimpering like she couldn't take anymore from him.

The heat between them was incendiary and when he felt ready to erupt, she wailed in his ear, "I'm cumming, Killmonger!"

He emptied his sack after hearing his name shouted from her lips, his dick spitting all in his pants, staining the cotton material. It was a thick nut, the semen hot and sticky inside the linen.

"Oh fuck…Yani…got me out here like this girl…fuucckk!"

She started laughing at him and he chuckled too having to stop and groan a few more times when he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm quaking his legs.

His cell phone vibrated in his back pocket.

He put Yani down and she tried fixing her sweatpants. Luckily, she had thin dark sweats on, the wetness from his pants only leaving a damp trace on her clothes. That could dry and be unnoticeable by the time she made it back up to the front house.

"Stop laughing at me girl," he said, play slapping her left butt cheek, "I gotta change my clothes because of you."

He reached out to strike her backside again, but she jumped away from him covering her butt with her hands.

"Go on girl, get up there," he said.

He glanced down at his cell phone.

A notification.

When he pulled up the link, he knew exactly who it was.

She was fast. Clearly skilled at breaking encryption codes.

Linda...

[Part 1] [Part 2]  [Part 3]  [Part 4]  [Part 5]  [Part 6]

If you liked this work, please check out  my “Forty-Seven G” & “Say Less”

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[twdeadfanfic]

Life at the end of the world Pt50

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note:  English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. Part 50 of 54

.Masterlist

---

“There you go, white for Alexandria.”

You finished tying the piece of rope above Daryl’s elbow. You didn’t know who had come up with that idea, but it was smart. Everyone would be identified with a color depending on their place, green for the Hilltop, red for the Kingdom, white for Alexandria. That way, it’d be easy to know where everybody was from and to know who were your allies...they were so many and most of them would be seeing each other for the first time, so it was hard to recognize every face. This way, it’d be easier to know if someone was on your side or if it was an enemy.

“I should be going too...” You complained in a grumble.

“Yeah? Okay, take a deep breath without wincing.” Daryl challenged and you rolled your eyes, knowing fully well that your bruised rib wouldn’t allow you to do so.

Few days had passed since the Saviours attack and you were doing better. Your head was fine, your side wound tender but doing okay and your bruises less purple, though your rib was still a pain and you moved slower than you liked, your body still hurting, though it was bearable.

You knew you’d be pretty much useless during the fight but still, you wished you could go. You felt useless. During the last few days, everyone had been working on getting everything ready to attack the Sanctuary, making plans, building armored cars...

They had also gone to some of the Saviour’s outpost, dismantling them and getting more weapons, thanks to Dwight who seemed to still be on your side and who gave you the information that you needed.

You had been recovering, though, and hadn’t been able to help much, along with Rosita and Michonne, who also didn’t seem happy about going to miss the whole thing.

Maggie had left after checking on you, leading Hilltop even though Gregory was still there. Carol had left pretty soon too, back to the Kingdom. You had hoped that now that she’d come back to Alexandria, she’d stay there again but she seemed to be favoring the Kingdom now, red rope and all...you didn’t know how you felt about it, though you were saddened about not having your friend there, especially when you had been hurt and bedridden.

“Just...be careful.”

You were worried about the whole plan and Daryl’s part on it. It was good, it was well thought, but it was dangerous nonetheless.

The idea was to join the forces of the three settlements, you had quite an army now, get the new weapons and drive with the armored cars to the Sanctuary. There, they’d attack them with gunfire, while they waited for the other part of the plan to work. Another group would get the attention of the massive herd of walkers that roamed close to the place and Daryl would lead it on his bike to the Sanctuary, after the others manage to open the fences, so the place would end up surrounded by walkers.

After that, more groups would divide and would attack the remaining outposts, taking as many weapons as possible, so they wouldn’t go help the Sanctuary.

It was ambitious but you had enough numbers now to make it work, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t scared about it going wrong and your family ending up hurt or worse...so many things could go wrong. It’d be the second time Daryl would lead a big herd of walkers on his bike, and you were as worried about it as the first time.

Daryl nodded and bent to kiss your forehead

“You too, you’re still healing.”

“I can’t hurt myself in here...” You were going to be here sitting down, doing nothing while the others fought...you hated it.

Daryl hummed and turned to look at your brother.

“Keep an eye on her.”

“We should be there too,” Michonne said as you, Rosita and her watched as all the vehicles drove off Alexandria.

“Yeah...”

“Now you know the feeling...” Carl said.

“You’re always joining the fights,” Michonne reminded him. “Besides, someone has to take care of Alexandria with us looking like this...” She chuckled darkly, pointing at some of your bruises.

None attacked Alexandria, though, and when the vehicles came back they brought news that plan had worked, the Sanctuary was surrounded by walkers and the Saviours couldn’t leave, so in two days you all would go back there to ask for their surrender.

But people had died, many people and there were lots of people injured too.

You guessed it was bound to happen, but still, it took you all your strength to fight your tears at the image.

Daryl wasn’t back yet but you tried not to worry much, you already knew he’d be back later, first he was going to the outposts to take the Saviour’s weapons with Rick, before Rick went to try and make another deal with the scavengers.

You didn’t like that a little bit, but had respected Rick’s decision. If the woman who threw you off the roof was still alive, though, you were going to deck her.

“Hey, Y/N.” You had been lost in your worries and Rosita’s voice startled you a bit, making her chuckle when you jumped and winced. “Michonne and I are going to see the Sanctuary, see what our people did to it. Thought you might want to come too.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to do. Yes, you wanted to go, wanted to see it yourself, but also you wanted to wait for Daryl, needing to know he was alright.

“I want to...but Daryl isn’t back yet...”

Rosita nodded, she didn’t need you to explain any further.

“It’s okay, wait for him, we’ll tell you how is it when we come back.”

“Be careful out there, please.”

***

When you finally heard the bike and saw Daryl driving into Alexandria, you had to stop yourself from running to him, knowing you’d hurt yourself doing so, but walked towards him as fast as you could. Daryl saw you and parked his bike next to you, but didn’t dismount.

“Are you okay?” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tight.

“Yeah, you?” He kissed your collarbone and nuzzled at the crook of your shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

“It worked,” Daryl told you, pulling away to look at you.

“I know...but so many have died...” You had a lump in your throat and Daryl’s face was dark too.

“Yeah...” He nodded. “And they took out the whole Kingdom army, besides Carol, Jerry, and Ezekiel.

“No...” You gasped in horror.

You couldn’t believe all those people were gone...they were so many and so skilled...it was just too horrible. Daryl pulled you close again, giving your lips a quick peck, but pulled away sooner than you’d have liked and you noticed he had scrapped one of his cheeks and his jaw was bruised.

“What happened?” You asked as you trailed your fingers gingerly over his injuries.

Daryl averted his eyes, silent for a second. “Fell off my bike...” He finally mumbled.

“What, how?” You asked but Daryl just shrugged uncomfortably. “Come on, I’ll help you take care of it.”

“I’m fine.” Daryl shook your hand off his arm. “I have to go talk with Tara.”

“What for?”

“About the plan, I need her help...”

Daryl replied evasively and you were confused, everything was done, now you only had to wait.

“There’s something wrong?”

“No, just...” Daryl tailed off and you didn’t understand why he wasn’t telling you.

“Daryl...”

“Cos Rick’s plan’s not good enough.” He finally grumbled. “We don’t have the Kingdom no more, lots of our people have died, we gotta do something...and we have all those walkers around the Sanctuary...”

“Yeah, we have the Saviours trapped, plan worked.”

“It’s not enough...we could make a hole on the wall of the building, let all the walkers get inside and eat those assholes. End it today, for good.”

“What, no!” You shook your head at his words. “Do you want me to list you everything that could go wrong?”

“I don’t care.” He mumbled.

“Well, I do! And you told me there were workers in there too, victims of Negan, the walkers would get them.” You couldn’t believe Daryl wouldn’t care about innocent people dying or that he’d want to do something so reckless.

“Workers are on the north side of the building, we break the wall of the south side, workers should be fine.”

“How sure are you of that?” You asked but Daryl just shrugged.

“We gotta win.”

“Yeah, but not like this...Daryl, you can’t do it.” Daryl didn’t say anything, looking away from you, so you kept talking. “Does Rick know about it? It’d mess the plan everybody already knows.”

“It won’t mess it, the walkers get in and then we go, ask for the Saviour’s surrender if they’re still alive, they won’t say no.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Rick doesn’t want to do it but he’s wrong.” Daryl finally replied, though you had already guessed it. “We already lost a full truck of weapons fighting over it.”

“You what?”

“Got into a fight with Rick...” Daryl replied and you shook your head in disbelieve.

“You and Rick fought?!” Suddenly an idea sprung on your mind. “Are those even from falling off your bike?” You pointed at his scrapes and bruises. “Or for fighting with Rick.”

Daryl didn’t reply but the way in which he averted his eyes gave you all the answers you needed, and you couldn’t believe it.

“What the hell, Daryl?!”

“I did fall off my bike...” He murmured, turning to grip the handlers of the bike again.

“Forget it.” You told him when he turned on the engine of the bike. “We already have a plan.” Daryl kept ignoring you, looking anywhere but at you. “Please...Daryl!” But he was already driving away.

You didn’t know if you were feeling more angry or irritated, or plainly sad, all you knew was that you felt like crying and you hated it. You contemplated following Daryl but you were too upset to want to argue with him again, you rather wait until you cooled off and he forgot about that idea...which you hoped were soon.

Instead, you decided to help with the injured people. You had been at the infirmary for a while when you saw your brother making his way to you, looking worried.

“Daryl and Tara just left in a big truck.” He told you. “What’re they going to do? Thought everything was done for the day.”

You couldn’t believe it, you couldn’t believe Daryl had done it, that he had left to follow his reckless plan without telling anyone else but Tara, without telling you, and you couldn’t believe Tara had agreed.

You shook your head, so upset and angry that it almost overcame your worry, and you walked towards a car a fast as you could, which wasn’t that fast to begin with, intending to follow Daryl and Tara.

“I can’t fucking believe this...”

“Hey, hey, wait,” your brother reached you easily and stopped in front of you. “You can’t go out there like that.”

“Hell I can’t...” You tried to brush past him but he stopped you from getting into the car.

“No, you’re still hurt.” Chris didn’t back away and considering he was quite taller than you, probably you weren’t looking that menacing, no matter how irritated you were. “Daryl told me to keep an eye on you, you’re not going out.”

In another context, your brother’s concern for you would have made you melt, but you were too upset.

“Then he should have thinking it twice before going to do something stupid.” You swallowed hard, trying not to cry, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away.

“He’ll be fine Y/N.”

You shook your head, tears burning in your eyes.

“He’s off to do something reckless and I should have stopped him.”

You should have followed him when he went to talk with Tara, but you hadn’t quite believed he’d go off like that, without saying anything else, without speaking to anyone else, without telling you.

So many things could go wrong in that plan, even if it worked...and if it worked, innocent people could end up hurt or worse...you couldn’t believe Daryl was actually going to do it.

Your brother didn’t say anything, as if he didn’t know what to say, but grabbed your arm and gently walked you away from the car and you didn’t resist.

“Come on, there’s still a lot of injured people who need help.”

You nodded, not quite trusting your voice to speak, and followed him.

***

When Rosita came back without Michonne, your heart almost stopped beating.

“She’s okay,” Rosita assured you before you could worry any further. “We found Daryl and Tara, you know what they want to do?” You just nodded. “I couldn’t do it, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I know...” You said weakly.

“Michonne stayed though...they should be back soon.” Rosita patted your arm.

When Michonne came back, though, neither Daryl nor Tara were with her and you felt like you might just collapse out of worry an anxiety.

“They’ll be right back.” Michonne tried to comfort you, noticing how distraught you were. “I was going to help them but then...I couldn’t...we already have a plan that could work, I don’t think it was worth the risk, crashing that truck on the wall surrounded by walkers...”

She was now mumbling more for herself, seeming torn, as if it hadn’t been an easy decision, and your heart beat faster, scared when you heard the full extent of the plan.

“What...”

Michonne’s eyes snapped back to you as if she had forgotten you were there and she reached out to take your hand, squeezing it gently.

“It’ll work and they’ll be fine, it won’t take them long to come back.”

You nodded in silence but you left, couldn’t get yourself to keep helping around, your mind was everywhere but there and you felt like you might just cry at any moment, so you went back home and sat down on the porch, hugging your knees to your chest.

You had been so worked up during the day, but you felt like your anger was ebbing, leaving you feeling empty as if your strength had left you too...you were upset and angry, sure, but you were mostly feeling sad.

The sun began to go down without you really realizing it and finally you saw Daryl was back, making his way towards your home. You let out a relieved sigh, your worried and scared heart calming his beats, but said nothing, and Daryl stopped before walking up the stairs of the porch, looking at you and shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly as if waiting for you to say something or as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. When you didn’t say anything either, he walked up the stairs and sat down on the ground next to you.

“Is Tara okay?” You broke the silence, you might be angry and upset, but you were worried too.

Daryl hummed a yes and you turned to look at him, noticing blood on his forehead...for crashing the truck, you guessed. You reached out to brush his fringe away from his face and gingerly brushed your fingers near the wound, inspecting it, but it didn’t look bad. When Daryl went to lean into your touch, you had already pulled your hand away.

“You should clean that.”

“It’s nothing,” Daryl mumbled quietly. “You’re mad.”

“Yeah.” You nodded but didn’t sound that angry, mostly tired and sad.

Daryl didn’t say anything else and finally you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I can’t believe you’d do something like that.” You turned your face to look at him but he was looking down. “We had a plan already...and it was too risky. Something could have happened to you, to Tara...”

“Was worthy...”

“No, no Daryl, it wasn’t” You replied, tired and frustrated.

“It worked, the Saviours’ll surrender.”

“And innocent people could die.”

“Innocent people already died because of Negan.” Daryl frowned at you. “Lots of our people have died, we had to end this now, we gotta win no matter how.”

“I’ve been helping around all day, I know lots of us have died!” You snapped “And it does matter how.”

Daryl didn’t say anything else, he was looking away again and you stayed quiet too, feeling too tired to want to fight with him, no matter you were angry and disappointed.

“I have to tell you something...” Daryl broke the silence and you looked at him, scared when you saw his expression though he kept his eyes averted. “Eric...he...he didn’t make it...he died, I don’t know how but-“

“What?” It seemed like Daryl was going to keep rambling but you cut him off before he said anything else. It took a couple of seconds for your brain to process what Daryl was saying and even then you were just as confused, it couldn’t be.

Aaron and him hadn’t come back with the others, but it was normal, they had already told you that they were going to the Hilltop to check on Maggie and wouldn’t be back until the fight ended. You had already made plans to go visit them and Maggie...

“I’m sorry...”

Daryl was finally looking at you but you were in shock. Eric gone? It couldn’t be...you remembered how Aaron had worried over him, he didn’t want him to join the fight, but you had been so sure they would be alright...it couldn’t be possible.

Daryl was looking at you with pained, sad eyes and you tried to hold back a sob, feeling tears rolling down your cheeks. Daryl reached out as if to wipe your tears but you pulled away, getting onto your feet, wincing a bit as you did it too fast, and began pacing back and forth, bubbling with sadness and anger.

“You knew? When you came before?”

Daryl nodded, looking down, making no attempt to get up, his fingers drumming nervously on the floor.

“And you waited until now to tell me?!” You hadn’t wanted to raise your voice but you couldn’t help it.

“Didn’t have the time...” He mumbled.

“Didn’t have the time...” You shook your head in disbelieve. “Didn’t have the time?! Our friend’s dead!”

“I had to-“

“I know what you had to do.” You cut him off before he finished his sentence.

“I had to do it, don’t care if you think it ain’t right, it is and now the Saviours die.” Daryl snapped, his voice angry but low, finally looking at you.

“Yeah, yeah, it was pretty clear you didn’t care what I thought.” You snapped back, rubbing furiously at your tears, and Daryl didn’t say anything else though he still looked annoyed.

“Aaron...is he okay? Where’s he?” You asked, your back to Daryl, trying to get a hold of yourself.

“He went to Hilltop. Rick found a baby in one of the outposts and Aaron offered to take her to Hilltop.”

“A baby?” You turned around, raising an eyebrow at Daryl in confusion.

“Hmm hmm...Rick killed his father so we didn’t know what to do with her.”

“Rick killed his father?”

“Was a Saviour, attacked Rick, what did you want him to do?” Daryl sounded annoyed again.

You didn’t know so you just shook your head softly...the man had attacked Rick, was your enemy, would have you done the same? Wouldn’t have you killed him yourself, no matter he had a baby with him or not? The idea sat uneasily in your stomach, though.

Daryl didn’t say anything else and silence fell between you two.

“Anything else you might have neglected to tell me?”

You asked and Daryl didn’t answer. You thought he wasn’t going to say anything but then he began talking.

“I killed Morales.”

You frowned in confusion, taking you a moment to place the name until you remembered...he had been from your group, back at the quarry...so long ago.

“What?” You were too confused to formulate an actual question.

“He was a Saviour, had Rick held at gunpoint.”

“So you killed him.”

“What did you want me to do, Y/N?” Daryl sounded angry but tired too.

You said nothing... you knew that if you had been in that situation, you probably had done the same... it wasn’t that what you were really angry about, but it felt like the final straw.

You were angry and upset about Daryl carrying on with his reckless plan without caring about the consequences, without telling you he was leaving, seemingly blind to everything in his desire to end the Saviours, no matter how many people he killed to get it done, fighting with Rick even. And you were so upset about him not telling you about Eric before...You were broken-hearted by the loss of all your people, by the loss of Eric.

The events of the day felt like too much and you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, so without another word you turned on your heels and walked into the house, leaving Daryl on the porch.

_____

Here we go, season 8, the hardest to write...and this chapter was painful to write.

Thank you for reading and if you had a moment, leave me a comment so we can talk, tell me your thoughts! 

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[penniesforthestorm]

“You pick the devil you run with”: Justified Season Two, Episodes 8-10

The three episodes discussed below are some of the tightest of Justified’s entire run, braiding together the threads running through the season thus far. All of my recaps can be found in the tag ‘#did you miss my heart on purpose’ on my blog, but earlier posts for this season can be found by clicking through: premiere, Episodes 2-4, Episodes 5-7. We’ll get to business after the cut:

Episode Eight: “The Spoil”

-Boyd and Dickie Bennett cross paths, and we get a clearer idea of Black Pike’s current interest in Harlan-- buying up local properties for a new mine.

-Art finds Raylan drunk at a local batting cage, and informs him that he’ll be accompanying Carol Johnson to the upcoming town-hall meeting. Back at the motel, Raylan says to Winona: “He knows”-- about the money from the evidence room.

-First appearance of Bennett (as in, town of) policeman Nick Mooney (William Gregory Lee), busting Boyd for a ‘broken tail-light’, at the behest of Doyle Bennett.

-Carol and a very hungover Raylan drive to bail Boyd out of jail. As Carol trades jabs with Doyle, Raylan mutters, “Y’all deserve each other.” A gleeful Boyd teases Raylan about being on the ‘same side’ of a fight, and Raylan retorts, “The only thing we’re on the same side of is, like, this car.”

-Carol drags Raylan to visit Mags’ store-- “It’s hard to be a strong woman,” Mags says, dripping with condescension. Coover and Raylan tangle for a few minutes, until Mags stops the fight by rapping Coover in the head with a shovel. This is not Raylan’s morning.

-As Carol prepares for the meeting, Raylan details the Bennett-Givens feud, which began during Prohibition. We learn the story behind Dickie Bennett’s limp-- he and Raylan fought after a high-school baseball game, and Raylan hit him with a bat.

-Meanwhile, Boyd Crowder sits down with Helen and Arlo Givens, asking them to sign over some property to the mining company. Neither one believes he has no personal interest in the transaction.

-At the town hall meeting, a series of speeches are made: first Carol, with some jargon about how coal is God’s gift to Harlan County. She tries to use Raylan as a prop, but this time, he doesn’t play ball. Boyd steps up to the plate with his usual alacrity, but Mags puts all of them to shame, calling on Harlan’s distrust of outsiders-- this life is theirs; who has the right to tell them how to live it? To that end, not only is she offering favorable rates on the land rights, but everybody’s invited to the Bennetts’ for a get-together. “Especially you, Ms. Johnson,” she simpers.

-Boyd goes to Ava’s, only to find Dickie and Coover Bennett lurking there, along with some sort of critter in a bag, which Coover refers to as ‘Charlie’. Ava bursts in and shoots ‘Charlie’, and the Bennett boys flee into the night.

-Next morning, Raylan and Carol stop off at Arlo and Helen’s. Helen reminds Raylan that she was the one who enabled him to leave Harlan in the first place, and offers the remainder of the $20,000 that Arlo hid from the marshals if Raylan will agree to leave the Bennetts alone. Shots ring out across the property, and Arlo ends up with a bullet to the leg.

-Over at Ava’s, Boyd explains that he knows what Mags is up to, and asks Ava to put on ‘something pretty’.

Episode Nine: “Brother’s Keeper”

-Mags helps Loretta prepare for the party, crowning her with a jeweled comb that belonged to Mags’ grandmother. When Coover blunders in, she shoos him out, and from the other side of the door, he hears her tell Loretta that she has “no excuse” for the way he turned out.

-Boyd arrives with a nervous Ava in tow, seeking a word with Mags. Raylan squires Carol Johnson, whose confidence has been shaking since the shooting at the Givens house. A local named Curtis, who seems plumb-full of liquid courage, makes increasingly aggressive advances on Carol, but when Raylan retaliates, Dickie Bennett steps in to keep the peace.

-Carol, Boyd, and Mags finally sit down together, and Boyd is content to let the fur fly for a while. Outside, Dickie tries to join the fun, only to be forcibly stopped by Raylan.

-Finally, the cards are laid out: Boyd persuaded Arlo and Helen to sign their property rights to him, not to Black Pike as he’d been instructed. Mags has bought up the rest not for their potential coal yield, as Carol assumed, but because they align with the new road Black Pike would build to carry its loads down. Without those, the company would simply write the new project up as a loss and move on-- Carol was only a pawn. Talk about a rug-pull.

-With Carol out of the room, Mags and Boyd make a further agreement-- Boyd’s enterprises will go undisturbed by the Bennetts, as long as he stays out of the marijuana trade. Jubilant, Boyd goes to find Ava, and squires her onto the dancefloor.

-As the party wraps up, Mags sends Loretta to help Coover. As the two of them haul away the empty kegs, Loretta notices that Coover is wearing Walt’s watch.

-Some time later, Loretta shows up at Coover’s door, offering him a joint. He lets her in, lights up, and after a while, he seems to pass out. Loretta searches the place, finally finding the watch in a bureau drawer. She calls Raylan in tears, but Coover stumbles in. All his immature resentment comes out as he throws her into the living room. Dickie tries to talk him down, but Coover attacks him. Loretta has just enough time to run out the front door.

-Raylan drops Carol off and goes to rescue Loretta, stopping in to interrogate Dickie, who sends him to the mine shaft where he and Coover dumped Walt’s body. Raylan finds Loretta and manages to shoot Coover, sending him into the dark.

-Doyle wakes up Mags, and as morning dawns, she gets two blows: one, her youngest son is dead, and two, the ‘daughter’ she adopted will be placed in foster care.

Episode Ten: “Debts and Accounts”

-At the marshals’ office, Art and Raylan have a pained conversation: Art won’t punish Raylan in the short term for his role in Winona’s evidence-locker shenanigans, but it appears Art and Raylan’s friendship has taken a serious blow.

-Mags and Helen meet at a diner, and we discover that the two of them have sustained a twenty-year truce between their families. Mags agrees not to pursue Raylan for his role in Coover’s death, sustaining the peace.

-Boyd informs Ava that he’s leaving, saying he doesn’t want her involved in the next stage of his plans. Raylan gives Winona a ride to her lawyer’s office, and en route, she tells him about her plans to divorce Gary. Raylan is spooked by a suspicious sliver Cadillac following them too closely.

-Loretta is reluctant to stay at her new foster home, and she and Raylan have a frank discussion. “I ain’t a kid,” she tells him, and he sees another echo of his younger self in this person who’s had to grow up far too soon.

-The remaining Bennetts have a family conference: Mags tells Dickie he can take the weed business, as long as he leaves Raylan alone, and she blames him for not controlling Coover. Doyle further explains Mags’ prior agreement with Boyd.

-Boyd visits his Cousin Johnny-- last seen bleeding on Ava’s porch in “Bulletville”, and still in a wheelchair. I’m particularly fond of this exchange, after Johnny shows that he can stand up to get another beer from the fridge:          Johnny: Did you think you think you performed a miracle on me, Boyd?          Boyd: I don’t believe in miracles anymore.         Johnny: Well, that’s something at least. Boyd makes the case that Johnny knew more about Bo’s dealings than almost anyone, and anyway, he’s a Crowder. Evidently, wild hair is a family trait.

-Dickie makes an alliance of his own-- Jed Berwind, who’s considerably less skeptical. He assures Dickie that he’ll do whatever he needs to.

-Boyd and Johnny raid a private poker game-- one of the players is Boyd’s old associate Devil, shorn of the unfortunate muttonchops he had in “Fire in the Hole”. Devil flips quickly enough, grabbing the cash as he departs.

-Winona and Raylan discuss her divorce from Gary, and what it might mean for them. Raylan professes his love, and makes her an offer: they could return to the training school down in Glynco. Winona says she’ll think about it.

-Devil, Boyd, and Johnny are discussing business over burgers when Dickie Bennett saunters by. He informs Boyd that any deal he made with Mags is off. Boyd stays quiet, but Devil and Johnny each take a few jabs at Dickie. Before he leaves, Dickie picks up a French fry from Devil’s plate, delicately bites off the end, and tosses it into Devil’s White Russian.

-Raylan and Winona, driving home and joking about Neil Young, find themselves under fire from the goons in the silver Cadillac. They run into a nearby warehouse and manage to evade their pursuers, and Winona agrees to Raylan’s earlier suggestion.

-Boyd pulls up to Ava’s for a last look, and she catches him. In a fulfillment of their long-simmering tension, they kiss.

[chanandlerbong-world]

When The Darkness Comes - Chapter 15

Fandom: The 100 Relationship: Clexa Rating: M Summary: Clexa AU. Clarke; free-spirited daughter of a humble doctor and engineer gets paired up with Alexandra; robotic daughter of an uptight Catholic housewife and CEO for a chemistry project. Or Lexa’s mother is super strict and Clarke helps her discover who she really is.

Word Count: 2.507

Elizabeth was awoken from her sleep by a knocking on the door.  She opened her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall.  It was nearly midnight. 

“Not now, Joseph.” She said weakly.

“It’s not, Joseph.  Lizzy, open up.”

Elizabeth smiled at the nickname, Jenna only used it when she needed cheering up.  The (almost) middle aged woman moved towards the door and winced at how her bones always hurt a little when taking those first few steps after being still for so long.

She opened the door and smiled at the face that greeted her.  She was immediately wrapped in a hug and all the tension that was in her body started to drift away.  There was something about a hug from your best friend that could heal almost anything.

“Lexa called me.  I came when I knew you’d calmed down.”

“Oh dear…Is she upset?”

“No.” Jenna said as she sat on the bed in the middle of the room. “She should be.  But she’s so used to you being horrible, it didn’t really bother her at all.”

“She thinks I’m horrible?” Elizabeth asked in a shocked voice.

“She doesn’t ‘think’ it Lizzy.  You are horrible.”

“I thought you were here to cheer me up…”

“No, I’m here to keep you from ruining your relationship with your daughter.  That means it’s time for some tough love.”

“And I’m just trying to keep her from making the same mistakes I am!  I don’t see the problem with trying to keep my only living child on the right path.”

“But the way you’re acting…this isn’t you! Where’s the girl I used to know?  She’s in there somewhere, I know it.”

“People change.” Elizabeth stated weakly.

“Not this much!  I’ve watched you warp yourself into the very thing you never wanted to be.  Ever since you got married…”

“I only saw the right thing to do and I did it…You got married too, because it was the right thing.”

“You think I got married because I was pregnant?” Jenna laughed mockingly. “I got married because I fell in love.  Because I was excited to have a family.  We had been talking about marriage before I knew I was pregnant with Anya.  Don’t you dare try to make me out to be like you.”

“Either way...same principle.”

Jenna stared in disbelief. The girl she knew all those years ago appeared to be gone.

“I remember when you went through your first real change.  We were still kids and I saw you really discover who you are.  I admired you for it.”

“What?”

“Yeah.  You were completely, 100%, Lizzy King.  You liked what you liked and did what you wanted.  Everyone else’s opinion be damned.”

Elizabeth smiled at the memory.  “Poor Joseph got the butt end of it.  I was so hard on him all the time…”

 Summer 1985

A loud horn honked obnoxiously outside a moderately sized California home.  It was mid-afternoon, and it was positively scorching.

“I wish she would tell her friends not to do that.”

“She’s your daughter, Gregory.  You’re the father: discipline her.”

“She’s your daughter too, Margaret.” He sighed while running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “I don’t see why it should only be my job.”

“Because I’ve at least tried!  You don’t do anything about it!”

“Well, what do you want me to do?!  Our daughter has spiraled out of control, I’m out of options!”

Upstairs in her poster covered room, Elizabeth King finished putting on her lip gloss and rolled her eyes as she heard her parents arguing yet again.  She didn’t think she was doing anything wrong or out of the ordinary for a 16 year old girl.  Jenna was downstairs in her car honking her horn non-stop, thinking that it would make her best friend move faster…of course it didn’t.  So Elizabeth spent a little extra time in front of the mirror.

After the teen finally decided she looked good enough, she bounded down the stairs owning her crimped pony tail and shiny sparkly lips.

“Elizabeth, where do you think you’re going?” Margaret asked.

“Somewhere with a large enough body of water for me to jump in and cool down.”

“It’s 4:30.  Bible Study is at 6, you don’t have time to go anywhere.”

“Ohhhh. Yeah, I’m not going.  It’s summer and it’s a Tuesday: I can only indulge you with all that fake Jesus crap on Sundays.”

“Elizabeth Sawyer King! I will not allow such horrible things to be said in this house!”

“You sound incredibly ridiculous.  But, I guess that’s even more reason for me to leave.” She said and headed towards the door. “Later, Dad.”

Lizzy practically ran out the door and smiled at the Toyota waiting to carry her away.  She opened the door to the front passenger side and frowned when she saw the seat occupied.

“Get out, Joey.” She commanded.

“No!  I was here first.” The young boy responded.

“Joseph Woods, if you don’t get out of this seat right now I will talk about my lady problems the whole way there.”

“Ok ok. “ Joey surrendered and got out of the car, moving to the back seat.

Lizzy smirked as she slid into the front and gave her best friend a knowing look.  She always got what she wanted.  Especially with Joey, all you had to do was threaten to talk about periods or ovaries and he couldn’t stand it.  The fact that he was hopelessly in love with the blonde teen helped too.

“Hey, Liz.” Jenna said, leaning over to give her a quick hug.

“Hey.  Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jenna smiled, and sped off.

45 minutes later they were somewhere in Malibu.  It was dusk, starting to get dark, when they approached what seemed to be the entrance to some kind of nature trail.

“What is this place?” Joey asked.

“You’ll see.  Come on.”

They all followed without question until they reached an area that was chained off.  The area was restricted after a certain hour, but Jenna didn’t care.  She stepped over the chain and Lizzy followed: because anywhere Jenna went, she went too.  Joey on the other hand was having second thoughts.

“Hey guys.  Should we really be doing this?  Maybe it’s closed for a reason…”

“Oh come on, Joe.  Don’t be such a stick in the mud.  Break a rule or two for once in your life.” Lizzy groaned.  Joseph was a genuinely good guy that didn’t like to do anything that would get himself or the people around him trouble.  But for Lizzy King, he would do anything.  He was more adventurous than he’d ever been in the last 4 years than he’d ever been since he started hanging around her and Jenna. 

“Fine… but if we get caught I’m blaming you two.” He said.

They all traveled past the chain and up a ridiculously steep hiking trail.  They scaled a little rock wall that wasn’t really dangerous at all and finally they were up high with a nice view of the city.  And below them, about 20 feet down was a lake.  All of their surroundings had a calming orange glow from the sunset.

“So are you guys down?” Jenna asked.

“For what?” Joey responded.

“Cliff jumping!” Lizzy answered. “And I’m totally down.” She said while instantly starting to strip out of her clothes.  Joey’s forest green eyes widened at how the teen so nonchalantly shed her clothing. 

Luckily, she knew they would be getting in water wherever they ended up, so Lizzy came prepared.  Wearing a bathing suit beneath her shorts and t-shirt.  Jenna was prepared all the same and stripped out of the casual dress she was wearing.  The two girls automatically clasped their hands together as they stood at the edge of the cliff: excited and terrified.  With one look at each other they knew they were ready and they stepped off the 20 foot drop.

Joey heard 5 seconds worth of loud shrill screaming followed by a big splash.  He rushed over to the edge to make sure his friends were alright.  When their heads popped up and he heard laughter, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Come on, Joey!” Jenna yelled. “The water feels amazing!”

Joey had to admit it seemed like fun, and even though it was almost 6, it was still really hot so the water might feel refreshing.  He took off his shirt and peered into the water below him: a bit too nervous to actually make the jump right away.

“You know he does have a really nice bod…he’s a nice guy, cute face.  Dating him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Jenna said, quiet enough so only Lizzy could hear.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know why…” The blonde shook her head. “He keeps pining after me, lying to himself.”

“Well if y-“

“Stop it!” Lizzy snapped.  She took a deep breath to calm the anger that flared up out of nowhere. ”I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.  I shouldn’t push you.”

They sat in an awkward silence until Jenna realized Joey had yet to jump. “Let’s go scaredy-cat!” she shouted as she swam over to the rope that was attached to the top of the cliff and began to pull herself back up.  Lizzy followed suit and they made their way back to where their friend was still standing.

Suddenly, a light was being shown on them and they heard a man yell something at them.

Jenna quickly gathered her things and instructed her friends to run.  And they did: they scooped up their belongings and bolted back in the direction they came from.  Luckily they saw that they could just slide down a dirt hill rather than trying to scale the little rock wall again.  Taking the time to do that would get them caught.

All 3 teens tumbled down the hill and proceeded to run covered in dirt, pebbles, and remnants of weeds.  Once reaching Jenna’s car they sped off, not bothering to look back and see if whoever was yelling was on their trail or not.

“I didn’t even get to jump.” Joey wined.

Jenna giggled “Next time, Joe.  Just do it: don’t wait so long.” She sighed. “You guys wanna go to Santa Barbara tomorrow?”

“I can’t.  I’ve got youth group.”

“I’m in.” Lizzy said cheerfully.

“You aren’t coming to group? You haven’t gone in weeks.   Everyone misses you.”

“You know I don’t believe in that stuff, Joe.”

“You used to…I mean when we were kids you were there all the time.  Every youth event, it was guaranteed you would be there.  But it’s like the last few years you’ve just lost faith.”

“I didn’t lose anything.  I’m not letting all those mindless drones control me anymore.  I grew a brain. You should do the same…”

“Come on, Liz.  That’s harsh.” Jenna said sympathetically.

“No, don’t worry about it.” Joey said.  “Lizzy has a right to believe in what she wants…but so do I.  And you know what? I’m offended that you insulted me because I live my life a certain way.  I’m a Christian, and I believe that fellowship and prayer works.   If you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, but don’t go around calling people mindless.”

The car went silent for a minute before Joey spoke up again.

“Just pull the car over.  I can walk from here.”

“No Joe.  We’re not that far from your house.” Jenna pleaded

“Exactly.  We’re not far, let me out.  I don’t want to be around her right now.”

“Ok…I’ll call you later.” Jenna said as she pulled over.  Joey got out without saying anything and the two girls redirected to the King house.

“What the hell, Liz?! What’s been going on with you lately?  You’ve been giving Joey so much shit lately and he’s finally had enough.  Are you happy?”

The blonde didn’t say anything.  She knew what she said was uncalled for but for some reason she kept snapping at all the people around her.   Lizzy was angry and couldn’t help but take it out on everyone around her.

Not wanting to deal with her parents, she asked. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Please?”

Jenna didn’t respond: they both already knew what the answer to that question was. 

[mae-i-scribble]

Experimental Au Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: Star and Marco come across a shelter after a day of traveling. The question of whether or not the should use it remains though.

"Please Marco." Star stared at him with eager eyes, her tail waving almost too fast for him to see. "This is the perfect solution!"

"It's too risky. They'll end up finding us and chasing us out." Marco huffed, shaking his snout.

"But it's a big place, they even have a smaller house we can hide in easy. Besides, it isn't anywhere near any other humans."

Marco glanced at the place in question. It was bigger than most places they had seen, sitting in the middle of a large clearing, which meant more space to maneuver if anything went wrong. It wasn't near any other houses too, that was good. And they did need somewhere decent to sleep for the night, especially after a day full of nothing but travelling.

"We could just make a shelter using our stones."

Star drooped, the excitement in her eyes dimming. "But…we could see what their place looks like. It could help us with our memories!" She was nose to nose with him now, her eyes pleading with him. "All I want to do is be around them for one night. Just a night. It's not even a town, Marco. We could get out of there before the humans could even raise a hand."

"Look…" He shouldn't agree to this. There were much safer options. He knew that humans weren't safe to be around, Star should know that. But the clear desperation in Star's eyes was wearing down his past grudges, as it always did. It would only be for a night, they would be gone first thing in the morning.

"Maybe." He growled, trying his best not grin at Star's excited little hops and yips at even the slightest chance of them staying inside the smaller house for the night. "But first, we watch, make sure that no one plans on going into the smaller house."

Star didn't reply, her eyes glued to the house below. Her tail still wagged back and forth, albeit slower than it had been.

Marco crouched next to her, making himself comfortable. They would be watching the house until at least nightfall, and the sun hadn't even touched the horizon yet.

Surprising his expectations, no one entered the smaller house. Sure, a couple of humans came out of the bigger house, followed by three smaller humans, but all the smaller humans did was roll around in the grass while the larger humans sat and watched them. The sight filled Marco with a wistfulness that he couldn't quite place.

From the quiet sigh that Star gave, he guessed that she felt the same.

He shook his head trying to forget the feeling, but it persisted. Faintly, he recognized that what he was seeing was called a family. Family. The word sounded sweet in his head. Didn't he have one of those once? He thought he did, but he couldn't be sure. It was only a trace of a memory, something vague and impressionistic.

"Do you think we had one of those? A- a family?" Marco didn't look at Star as he asked, resolutely staring at the skyline, where only a tip of the setting sun could be seen.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we did." He felt Star move beside him, turning towards him.

"What do you think yours was like?"

"I don't know. I think it be cool if they like to do crazy things." Star laid her head besides his, her breath tickling the sides of his jaw as it rushed out her nose.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe just run around until we're too tired to run anymore. Try new things." Star snorted. "I don't even know what families do. Why'd you ask me?"

"Because I wanted to know."

"Well then, what do you think yours was like?"

"Really?" It was Marco's turn to snort now. "I guess, I think they were nice, or maybe, I think families should be nice to each other."

"Well duh, isn't that what a family is?"

"Yeah, but I just feel like there might be families who aren't nice to each other." Macro gave a silent snarl at the thought. For some reason, the idea itself made him angry, even if he couldn't remember why.

Star actually snarled, the noise startling him enough for him to raise his head and look down at her.

"Sorry." Star lifted her own head to meet his, her upturned lips relaxing. "That just sounds wrong. It made me mad."

"Did you remember anything?" Marco asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

"No." Star put her head back down, looking down at the house. "I just got really upset. I think I might have known a family that was like that. Not nice to each other."

"I'm sorry." Marco put his head down next to Star's, laying his tail across her back. "If anything, we're family, in a way."

"You think so?" Star draped her tail across his back, returning the gesture.

Marco rubbed his cheek against hers. "I know so."

Marco swatted his tail against Star's muzzle, grabbing her attention as he shifted, waving his hand in signal for her to do the same. She did, but only after a weak grumble of protest. He knew that she would much rather explore the place with enhanced senses, but they had to be sneaky, something that their beast forms were not.

Marco stopped to quickly reach back and grab onto Star's hand, ensuring that she wouldn't go barging into the larger house while he wasn't watching.

He reached the smaller house, Star in tow, and grimaced. The smaller house wasn't nearly as nice as he had hoped, the wood it was built out of was worn, littered with holes. The roof looked like it might actually be sagging inwards.

Getting inside was looking to be an issue though. The smaller house was sealed by a- a- a- door! That's what it was. There was a knob, on the door, and Marco peered at it for a few seconds; Star also popped her head over his shoulder to see what he was looking at, giving it a confused frown.

Marco knew this, at least he hoped he did. Wrapping his fingers around the knob on the door, he pulled. When nothing happened, he pushed. When the door still refused to budge, he turned before pushing, and smiled as the door swung open.

His smile quickly vanished as he viewed the interior of the small house. It was littered with unknown objects, some of which his mind put a name to, and others were left in ignorance. He did not like the continued theme of sharp, pointy ends on the objects though.

Star had no such issues, much to Marco's amusement and fear. She immediately bounded into the, small, confined and cluttered space, practically cooing at every new sight.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Marco asked, keeping his voice at a low whisper.

"Are you kidding me!?" Star smacked her hands over her mouth as she realized she was yelling. She continued, in a much softer tone, with a sheepish smile on her face. "Of course I do. This is exciting."

Marco gave a soft sigh, letting the door close behind him as he walked inside.

The door shut with a loud snap, making Marco jump. The ensuing darkness made Marco pause, listening to make sure Star was still there until his eyes adjusted to the lighting. Once he could see again, he began to move the various things around to make room for him and Star to sleep.

He turned to Star when he thought he had a suitable area cleared out, asking, "So, how do we sleep anyways?"

Star paused, turning to him, "I have no idea."

Marco sat on the cold floor, Star sitting down besides him. He lifted up his arm, showing it to Star. "Maybe we're supposed to lay on our arms."

"Really? That seems kind of annoying." Star laid herself out on her back, staring at the low ceiling in confusion. "Maybe this is how we should sleep? It's sort of comfortable."

"Eh." Marco put his head on Star's stomach. "Maybe they lay on each other."

"But I can't lay on you from here." Star said, and Marco sat up once more before turning onto his stomach. Putting an arm down in front of him, he laid his head down on it.

"Maybe like this?"

"Maybe." Star copied Marco's position. "It works."

"Are you sure about this? We could always leave and just make a shelter for the night. We would be more comfortable." Marco offered.

"Of course I'm sure!" Star sounded indignant at first then her voice softened. "We should try and get closer to humans. I mean, we are human at least in part. So some of our memories our probably of us being human. It'll help us remember."

"We're still going as soon as we wake up. If anyone sees us we need to leave." Marco warned. "I know we're human, but we can't trust the other humans. You know what they're like."

"Couldn't we try and explain it to them? They might understand."

"We tried that, remember? It ended with them trying to burn you."

"They were scared."

"That's not an excuse! What have they gone through that we haven't?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point!?"

"I don't think there is a point." Marco strained to hear Star's faint whisper. "Its all so blurry."

Marco inched closer, putting his free hand on top of Star's head. "I'm sorry."

Star turned her head towards him, her eyes shining. "Don't be. Neither of us know what to do."

"I know what we need to do now."

"What?"

"Sleep." Marco smiled at Star's giggle, ruffling her hair before drawing his hand back.

Closing his eyes, Marco tried his best to fall asleep. His skin was itchy though, unused to sleeping without contact.

Something warm draped itself across his back, and Marco leaned into the touch.

"Sorry." Star mumbled, a few locks of her hair settling into Marco's scruffy frizz. "It was weird trying to sleep like that."

Marco only smiled as his eyes slid shut again.

Marco woke to light shining in his eyes. Blinking, he groaned as he blearily tried to decipher where the light was coming from. Any grogginess was replaced with horror as he found why the light had suddenly appeared.

There was a human standing besides the door, staring at the two of them.

Marco leapt to his feet, steadying Star as she was almost sent sprawling to the floor. His stone gave a soft glow in warning.

He froze as he got a better look at the human. It was only a child. A child who barely reached his chest.

"Hello?" It- no, he asked, eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

"Gregory? Come back." A much deeper voice shouted, and that was all it took to convince Marco that they needed to leave. Now.

Latching onto Star's wrist, he pulled her out with him, shoving past the child into the clearing. He shifted as soon as he was out, delicately grabbing Star in his jaws. He'd apologize for it later, all he could think about was escaping.

He bolted towards the forest, the morning sun nearly blinding him. He raced past the angry and terrified cries of the other humans, before they could even think to attack them, he was gone, slipping through trees.

He stopped as Star shifted, falling out of his jaws and onto the forest floor.

"Wait for me next time!" Star growled as Marco sat down, his head bent apologetically.

"I panicked." He admitted, his tail curling around his paws.

Star backed down at that, giving a quiet huff of understanding. "Its just- we could have tried to talk to them."

"I know you want to, but we can't- I mean, you probably could- but I can't. I can't trust them. I really am sorry bu-" Marco's paws wouldn't stop moving, rising up and down as his voice fluctuated.

"Marco." Star stopped him, pressing her nose against his. "I want to talk to people. But I want you to want to talk to them even more. I can wait as long as it takes."

"What if that never happens?" Marco couldn't help but ask.

"It'll happen." Star entwined her tail with his. "Until then, I'll just keep waiting."

"Thank you." Marco breathed. Watching as Star pulled away, he followed her as she strolled further into the forest. Marco spared one last glance back, his eyes taking in the forest that separated them from the now distant house.

[eridianshores-blog]

The Walking Dead: Season 7, Part 1

Warning:  There be SPOILERS ahead!  If you don’t want the skinny on all the twists, turns, deaths, and surprises in the first half of Season 7, stop reading now!

Ready?

When we last left our motley crew of survivors, Negan and the Saviors thoroughly had them bent the fuck over...and someone got beat to death with a baseball bat (wrapped in barbed wire, though I’m not sure how much difference a few small cuts makes when your aim is to cave in someone’s skull).  Honestly I expected Aaron to get it since he was the least main character, though my second guess was Eugene - especially since he seemed to have outlived his usefulness and the fact that he was trying to become more survivor-like.  If you pressed me further I probably would’ve gone with Rosita or Sasha just because - narratively speaking - they’ve kinda been dead weight.  I even considered Maggie as the possible victim just as a means of wrapping up the whole pregnancy thread without retreading ground we covered with Lori.

Well I was wrong; no surprise there as I’m apparently terrible at predicting events like these.

In what was already a really, really, really drawn out scene from the Season 6 finale, Season 7′s premiere makes it feel even longer.  Granted some serious shit goes down, but it kinda feels like the punctuation at the end of a run-on sentence.  Anywho, Abraham goes down, and not to be forgotten, tells Negan to “suck my nuts” after the first crushing blow.  The second one drops him for good, and Negan turns poor Abrahams head into something resembling a smashed watermelon with a generous dose of red Jell-O.

Shocking, right?  I guess.  But in my mind Abraham never quite made that leap into the upper echelon of folks like Rick, Daryl, Carol, Carl, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne and maybe a couple of others I’m missing.  Whatever import he carried had passed and he was quickly slipping into non-essential territory.  His death would’ve had a greater impact back when he was at the forefront - namely on the road to Terminus - but as it is he’d just sort of slipped into the background.

So ol’ Abe is dead, Negan is still fucking talking...now what?  Here’s where the real shocker comes.  After all, we spent all summer (figuratively speaking in my case) knowing that someone was going down.  But when Daryl’s angry lunge is met with the sudden and gratuitous execution of Glenn, well, I think my jaw hit the floor along with everyone else’s.  Some criticism was leveled at the scene’s gore / violence / sadism / brutality / whatever you want to call it, but I didn’t bat much of an eye at that sort of stuff.  Yeah, I realize a lot of “squares” got into the show and still squirm at the sight of CG brain matter and latex bite wounds, but I’d been watching zombies eat people along with other depraved acts of violence years before TWD hit the scene.  If the show wants to push people’s buttons with gore and torture and brutality then by all means, go for it, but stuff like that is neither going to make or break an episode for me.  Was it gratuitous and excessive?  Probably, though I think some people forget that this is a horror-themed show and not an action-drama (stylistically speaking).

Back to Glenn though...yeah, I think it was a shitty move to kill him off.  Was his fake death in episode 3 (ish) supposed to foreshadowing or some shit...?  I’ve since read that his death was adapted from the comic book, but as I said in my previous post regarding Season 6, comics and TV are vastly different media and you can’t just transmute one to the other.  What may have worked in the comics (I don’t know, I’ve never read them) isn’t necessarily going to play out the same way on screen, especially when the heightened emotional investment of the viewers is concerned.

After this cathartic yet jolting hour and change of television, the following episode introduces us to “The Kingdom,” replete with horses, spears, “armor,” and a fucking guy in an auditorium calling himself a king.  With a giant tiger.  WTF.  Seriously.  WTF.  (This could well be another case of the comics not lending themselves well to the small screen...)

I wasn’t wild about this largely expository episode, especially as viewed through the Morgan-Carol lens.  Some of that was due to their endless and circular conversation which wore on my nerves fast.  The show is trying to find a place for Morgan but I don’t think they’ve really figured it out yet (respect for life is cool and interesting and all that, but in a world where it’s kill or be killed, you’ve got to go somewhere with it), and Carol is rapidly becoming a second-rate character due to her seemingly random onset of neurosis.  Morgan is torn between the necessity to kill versus one’s ability to change.  Has the show even attempted to reconcile that yet?  No?  Then let’s move the hell on.  Oh, and Carol wants to be left alone?  Do we really understand why?  Is she any closer to telling us?  No?  Then let’s move the hell on.

Moving on.  I promise I’m not going to spend this much time on each episode.

As the show enters its third episode, “The Cell,” it nearly grinds to a halt.  What could’ve been a more insightful look into the Saviors, or a more sympathetic portrayal of Dwight, Sherry, and their hardships, or a further character study of Daryl, turned out to be a 10 minute story strung out over an hour.  All we do is watch Negan attempt to break Daryl, which doesn’t even work.  We basically expect Daryl to endure whatever the Saviors throw at him, and he does.  What is so frustrating is that the story doesn’t advance one iota.

And then there’s the fourth episode which really tries my patience.  Negan comes to Alexandria, scares the shit out of everyone, and relieves Alexandria of nearly all of its creature comforts and most of its necessities (despite claiming to only want “half”).  Negan talks...and talks...and talks...and talks some more, while Rick skitters around with his tail between his legs, eager to prevent any further deaths.  It’s a little difficult to watch in one sitting, mostly because every uncomfortable moment is stretched and milked and then absolutely beaten to death...before moving on to the next.  It’s like...intense yet stagnant at the same time...I think that’s the best way to describe it.

A quarter way through the season and the ho-hum pace is become obvious.  Can we get a true Negan encounter or at least change the status quo within the next 4 episodes...?  It’s not looking good.

Episode 5 spends most of its time at the Hilltop, still staunchly refusing to actually advance the plot.  Compared to the best of The Walking Dead, this episode is another snooze-fest.  Maggie and Sasha and “Jesus” and Gregory go at it some more and blah blah blah.  The Saviors bring some zombies over in the middle of the night and it seems the only people in the whole damn settlement capable of doing anything about it are sick, pregnant Maggie and Sasha.  Then Negan’s main crony, Simon, comes to town and basically does all the same shit we’ve watched Negan do: talk, threaten, demean, dehumanize, and fucking talk.

What I don’t understand about this episode is Maggie and Sasha’s hard fought battle to stay at the Hilltop.  For the life of me (maybe I missed an important line somewhere or something) I can’t figure out how “going to Hilltop to get Maggie a doctor” turned into “Maggie and Sasha live at the Hilltop now,” seemingly indefinitely.  I could understand if they wanted to hang back a while while she recovered or got her strength back or whatever, but the flavor of their conversations with Jesus and Gregory seem to plainly indicate that their intention is to remain at Hilltop for the long run.  As much as this group has talked about family and helping each other and all that shit, I just can’t understand Maggie and Sasha’s sudden willingness - nay, desire, to remain in Hilltop and leave Alexandria behind, especially without even a word edgewise.

And while we’re on the subject, we’ve got a similar situation going on over at the Kingdom.  Back at the beginning of that episode, Morgan mentioned to Carol that they should stay a week or so while she recovers from her 2 gunshots.  First of all, Carol recovers remarkably quickly from a bullet to the arm and another to the leg, and we know that large amounts of time aren’t passing because of Negan’s weekly visits to Alexandria - the whole first half of this season seems to occur over the course of about 2 weeks.

Anyway, after throwing enough fits, Morgan escorts Carol to the abandoned house outside of but near the Kingdom.  Now then, with Carol obviously capable of caring for herself and Ezekiel looking after her besides, why the fuck doesn’t Morgan promptly return to Alexandria with the news, “hey everyone, there’s this whole other community full of decent people not too far away and they’re receiving regular bitchslaps from the Saviors as well!”  I mean not only would this be the decent thing to do as a member of this “familial unit” but it may also prove to be valuable strategic knowledge that could directly impact the safety of its residents.  Why the hell is he milling around the Kingdom eating pomegranates and smiling at the sun or what the hell ever?  It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.  I get that the writers are trying to set up something, but they can’t just scatter our little group willy nilly and suddenly act like they don’t give a shit about their comrades or if their people have a fucking clue where they are, if they’re alive, dead, whatever.  We could at least be given a few lines of dialog as to why they’re not returning to Alexandria.  So far this is something that has really really bothered me about the season.  It just doesn’t seem like these characters would vanish without a good reason and without letting their group know...it just seems wildly uncharacteristic and like the writers are outright forcing them into these situations without valid reasoning.

Going into episode 6 we’ve got to move forward, at least a little bit, right?  RIGHT!?  Oh no, wait, there’s that girl...and that dude..who somewhat inexplicably hit the road for 2 weeks in search of supplies.  Why Tara and Heath of all people?  Why didn’t a more competent fight - and a more seasoned scavenger for that matter - accompany them or hell, go instead?  Who knows.  It was weird when they mentioned it way back in Season 6 and it still doesn’t make any damn sense.  The 2 most elite members of the A-team (Rick and Daryl) go out on a sorghum run, yet the timid Tara who’s spent a large part of the outbreak in a dark apartment and relative newcomer Heath who’s lived in the relative comfort and safety behind Alexandria’s walls up until the past couple of months are the sole members of this 2 week expedition...?  Methinks this decision was made with a shrug and out of convenience, and I don’t like it, but that’s the way it is.

We catch up with half of the inept duo, washed up on a beach somewhere.  Long story short we’re introduced to the rather odd community of Oceanside...at lest that’s what Wikipedia calls it; as of the mid-season finale, I don’t think it’s been given an official name on the show.  Through one contrivance or another, Tara manages to be like, the only stranger ever not to be shot on sight by this community of, strangely enough, nothing but women and girls.  (Is it just me or is there something ironic about them (lots o’ women) living at the coast and having an endless supply of fish!?)

I don’t know which was more uninteresting: an episode revolving solely around Tara or this fucking Oceanside establishment.  We lost people blah blah, times are hard blah blah, I hope you understand why we can’t trust strangers, blah blah blah fucking blah.  It seems purely like Oceanside is a source of cannon fodder for whatever is going to happen with Negan.  Far too late into the episode do we finally find out that the Saviors murdered all the men and the remaining survivors fled and established the current settlement.  This is of course after they pretended to be cool with releasing Tara and then trying to kill her, something which I’m still not sure I completely understand.  Tara is assisted by a sympathetic member of the group who makes her swear not to tell anyone about the community; Tara eventually makes it back to Alexandria only to find out all the horrible news: her girlfriend’s dead, Ford is dead, Glenn is dead, and the camp now inks out a living under the tyrannical rule of Negan.  Whoopee.  You’d think after all this she would’ve at least confided in someone about Oceanside - maybe not Rosita as she was at the time - but at least someone.  Hell, at least she came back.

We also get a snippet into Tara’s 2 week excursion with Heath, which was far less interesting than it should’ve been.  Basically they didn’t find shit, found an abandoned camp on a bridge (which by the way was a really cool place / idea for an encampment and I would’ve loved to see more of it), and then - not totally unexpectedly - their novice post-apocalyptic survival skills put them smack in the middle of a zombie attack.  And after all that we still have no idea what the hell happened to Heath.  I guess he discovered another settlement, haha.  No but seriously, I wouldn’t be surprised.

I’m ok suspending disbelief, really, I am, but I think it’s a little too convenient that within the span of what must be only a couple of weeks our group has suddenly discovered 4 additional settlements.  Throughout all their travels from Atlanta to whether they are in Virginia they never ran across anything remotely resembling a permanent settlement or long-term community except for Woodbury, Terminus, and maybe that hospital, though I question how permanent that arrangement really was.  More than that though, I can’t understand how the scouts and runners for Alexandria didn’t discover these places, or at least a hint of their existence.  And for that matter, how come none of these places discovered Alexandria?  We’ve yet to find out if any of these places knew about each other (excluding the Saviors, obviously) but so far there’s no indication that the Hilltop, the Kingdom, or the residents of the former or current Oceanside have any awareness of each other.  I’m not questioning the existence of the communities themselves, I just think it’s unlikely for the Alexandrians to encounter 4 of them for the first time in 2(ish) short weeks.

At this point we’ve been diverted every which way - the Hilltop, the Sanctuary, Oceanside...and we really haven’t made much headway going into the penultimate episode of the season’s first half.  Episode 7 is still mostly exposition, though we get a semi-insightful glimpse of the world that is the Sanctuary.  We’re also treated to one of the most balls-to-the-wall moments of the entire series thus far: Carl mowing down a couple of Negan’s men and 110% ready to keep unloading.  Jesus and Carl have both trailed the Saviors back to their home compound, with Jesus choosing to remain hidden while Carl goes into full blown MDK mode.

Carl’s behavior also brings up an interesting point that I alluded to in my Season 6 post concerning Negan’s methods of control.  See, the problem with Negan’s brand of cruelty is that he leaves his subjects with nothing left to lose, which in turn will lead to revolts of the most fervent, determined, and bloody kind.  It would seem to me that people in the midst of this amount of suffering would be so miserable that losing their lives in service of at least trying to break free would be the way to go.  If they die then so what?  Negan has made their lives so fearful and meaningless that they truly have nothing left to lose. This is exactly how Carl acts, and why he’s the only one is beyond me, especially after seeing how downtrodden and afraid and broken the residents of the Sanctuary truly are.  You can’t sustain a rule with violence and fear for very long.  There is only so much pain and suffering that a human will endure before they’re willing to try anything, at any cost, to alleviate this pain.  Maybe this is what we’re building up to - Dwight’s looks of dissention certainly seem to suggest something in the ballpark - but even so, Negan seems to have operated for a very long time, leaving me to wonder how he maintained his rule for so long.

Anyway, the episode tries to gradually build tension throughout Carl’s guided tour (with Negan as the tour guide) of the Saviors’ home, though for some reason I never really got the impression that Carl’s life was in any danger.  Now what Negan might do to the other Alexandrians, well, that’s another story and certainly something worth dreading, but as far as Carl himself, I felt pretty confident that he’d skate through the encounter somehow.

I will say that despite the episode’s shortcomings, it was a great, nay, fantastic showcase for Carl’s character, a guy who’s been mostly relegated to awkward and confounding encounters with the why-the-hell-are-you-here Enid.  Being a young kid at the show’s onset, it was tough to give Carl meaningful arcs or development and he mostly served as a foil for Rick and Lori.  As he’s gotten older though, he’s definitely grown into his character a bit more, and never is that more evident than here in “Sing Me a Song.”

We’ve already established his ultimate badassery via the act of fearlessly popping up out of the truck with a fucking machine gun and pulling the trigger without a shred of hesitation, but there’s another great moment up in Negan’s office (or lounge or whatever) where Carl proves he’s got balls big enough for a dumptruck.  I don’t remember the dialog verbatim, but at one point he calls Negan’s bluff about hurting him and proclaims that if he was smart he’d kill him and Rick right now.  And he’s not just being young and dumb and posturing - he is scared, he is rattled, and he is concerned about the repercussions of his actions, but he’s saying this shit anyway, which is worth about a million points in my book.  What will perhaps go down as one of the greatest lines ever uttered throughout the series (along with Abe’s “suck my nuts” mid-execution) is Carl’s vitriol-filled response to Negan’s, “what do you think I should do with you?” to which Carl retorts, “I think you should jump out of that window and save me the trouble of killing you,” delivered with all the venom and hatred that this post-apocalyptic world has to offer.  BAM.  It don’t get much more badass than that.  Daryl, you’ve got some competition.  I’m not sure Negan quite takes Carl seriously, but I like to believe I detected the tiniest bit of anxiety in his face...I like to think that at least some small part of him was shaken by Carl’s cold, nigh psychotic suggestion.  Ultimately I suspect that Negan will get his comeuppance; I can only hope it’s at the hands of Carl by way of Lucille, and that the event doesn’t scar Carl too much and make him all withdrawn and mopey for a season.  I hope he walks away from Negan’s shattered cranium with his head held high, fully aware that his actions will ripple (for the better) across whatever immediate future there is for the area.  Ol’ “One-Eyed Carl” will definitely be a bright spot worth paying attention to as the seasons wear on.

Although we do learn a little bit more about the Saviors, particularly that they live under the same oppression as the other communities, if not worse, it’s still just a big ol’ dose of Negan talking and talking and talking and talking.  Perhaps most importantly we’re witness to a punishment known as “the iron,” and thereby clued in to the reason behind Dwight’s gruesome disfigurement.  I realize that Dwight’s been built up to sort of be Daryl’s nemesis ever since their first encounter, way back in pre-Savior days, but the writers also seem to be setting the stage for Dwight to play a crucial role in the inevitable uprising against Negan.  The real suspense in this episode happens as Negan escorts Carl back to Alexandria...but then he just talks and talks and talks some more.  It’s not all bad necessarily, there’s just too much time and focus dedicated to how charismatically twisted Negan is.  I think it’d be more productive if he let go of his schtick for just a moment and really clue us in to why he is the way he is and what he’s really trying to prove or accomplish beyond being a power-mad sociopath (and maybe that’s all he is).  

I mean even back in the days of the Governor, at least he did some good amidst whatever issues he had.  He had his dark side and his cronies and Merle on hand to take out the trash, but he wasn’t simply depraved for the sake of being depraved.  He built something.  And then he actually built something again.  There was definitely a piece of his brain dedicated to being a crazy shit, but he also did a lot of what he did because he thought it was the right thing to do and because he was genuinely interested in protecting his people and creating a purposeful life for them.  Does Negan actually think he’s building something or accomplishing anything?  Was he the product of some other tyrant or has he always been this way?  Was he ever the victim?  Is there anything or anyone he genuinely cares about?  Is there really any purpose behind this rampant acquisition and exploitation beyond his instant gratification?  These are all things that would give Negan a lot more depth and make his copious amounts of screen time far more justifiable.  Maybe we’ll learn more.  I hope so.  Right now he’s basically the devil incarnate, and while that may account for some quick thrills, pure evil isn’t all that interesting.

Ok, deep breath, mid-season finale...is this too gonna fizzle out or will we finally be propelled into something other than Negan bitch-dom or some new group of shacks and shanties and another cadre of scared-as-hell survivors?  In a nutshell, this is easily the best episode of the season thus far, though that’s not necessarily high praise.

We pick up where the previous episode left off and watch the group splinter even further: Michonne goes out on her own, Spencer ventures out, Rick and Aaron desperately seek supplies for Negan, and Rosita berates Eugene in taking her to the machinist shop to make her a single bullet.  It’s kind of a lot to keep up with but ultimately I think the episode reconciles these threads well enough - certainly better than they have in quite a while.

Rick and Aaron provide us with the most interesting sojourn whereby they track down a now-dead survivor’s cache of supplies.  The problem?  They’re all loaded onto a boat on the other side of the pond...a pond filled with anchored zombies.  Lo and behold there’s a boat at the shore...but it’s been riddled with bullet holes.  This is tangential and a minor point, but I never understood Rick and Aaron’s approach to using the small boat.  Their strategy was to go as fast as possible and hopefully cross the relatively short yet treacherous distance to the larger boat full of supplies.  Using pieces of wood they row and do alright until about the halfway point where they’re almost overtaken by zombies, Aaron falls into the water and is nearly killed.  What I don’t understand is why didn’t the guy in the rear row slowly and more cautiously while the guy in front killed upcoming zombies and bailed water out in the meantime.  At the slow rate that the boat was filling with water, someone continually bailing out water would’ve been able to keep it afloat indefinitely.  I mean it doesn’t really matter since they were able to collect the supplies without injury, it just seemed like one of those situations that could’ve been handled much more safely.

Beyond that though, I don’t understand why they didn’t just walk around the pond and get at the boat from the other end.  We see the mysterious mis-matched boot man peering from behind, and it’s easy to see that the pond wouldn’t have taken more than a few minutes to walk around.  Regardless, I did kinda like the idea of a boat as a supply cache in the middle of a pond “guarded” by anchored zombies.  

Back at home in Alexandria the vibe is as nervous as ever as Negan continues his psychological torment of Carl and Olivia.  (I would include Judith, but obviously she’s too young to have any clue what’s going on.)  And just then big dick Spencer waltzes on over with some liquor in an obvious attempt to curry favor with Negan.  Initially I thought the guy had come around and finally grown a brain and was trying to work some kind of angle, but then he just threw all his cards on the table and basically asks Negan to kill Rick and put him in charge instead.  At first Negan seems agreeable, but I knew better.  (Finally I had an accurate prediction!)  Negan makes 2 excellent points, 1) Rick is the one out there “swallowing his hate” and getting shit done, and 2) if Spencer wants to be in charge so bad, why doesn’t he just kill Rick himself and take charge?  Once it was apparent that Negan saw Spencer for who he really was - a coward - we pretty much know what’s going to happen next, though I will say that I didn’t think it’d be so graphic.

So Spencer is dead, but who really gives a shit?  You’d think that the death of his brother, then his dad, and then his mother would’ve made him into something more than the naive little flake that he was, but no.  I’m not saying I’m glad he died necessarily, but I am glad the writers smartly handled his attempted betrayal via Negan.  I’m impressed that the writers actually gave Negan the capacity to see through Spencer’s pandering instead of some weird situation where we have Negan very openly on Rick’s ass and Spencer behind the scenes trying to subvert Rick’s every move.  One important thing about this scene is that it shows us that Negan is not a diplomat nor interested in diplomacy.  He recognizes Rick’s value as a survivor in this world versus Spencer’s, and chooses this productive enemy over any type of superficial cordiality with Spencer.  Good for you, Negan. I guess.  Sortta.

Directly following the “Evisceration of Spencer,” Rosita throws all her chickens in her only basket and pulls the trigger.  By the magic of television, the bullet strikes Lucille but clearly scares the shit out of Negan.  Some random crony is ready to carve up Rosita’s face, but in true Savior fashion, Negan shows people that it isn’t themselves that will suffer for their own actions, rather it is the innocent that will endure the consequences.  For whatever reason the lady-thug decides to off Olivia, who joins Denise and Deanna and Noah and Jessie and others as a casualty of background-character-who-we-sort-of-start-getting-to-know-gets-killed syndrome.  Oh well.  I seriously thought Rosita was going to get the bat since she seems to have outlived her usefulness.

Now what happens next is 1,000,000,000% perplexing: not only does Negan decide to inspect the casing from the spent round, but he also has a keen enough knowledge of guns n’ ammo to detect that the bullet was clandestinely fashioned.  This seems extremely far-fetched to me, and I’m not sure I even really understand the point of it other than to kidnap Eugene and show us that Eugene has grown a pair when he admits to making the bullet after Tara falsely confesses...then again, hasn’t the show been intent on updating us on the status of Eugene’s usefulness every 4 or 5 episodes...?  Why this?  Why now?

I know that the Saviors cleared out Alexandria’s armory and that having a bullet fired at him would be reason to be suspicious, but at the same time, is it really so hard to believe that Rosita managed to find a gun (and a bullet) while scavenging?  Is “let me inspect this spent casing” really the first thing that runs through his head after being shot at?  When he asks himself where someone got the firearm and the ammo is the first possibility his mind shoots to really, “hmm I bet someone made this damn bullet!”  Did someone make the damn gun too?  He doesn’t seem all that concerned with where she got the actual gun from.  And seriously, how the fuck does he enough to distinguish a homemade bullet?  Had we been treated to a scene or two where it was previously established that Negan had some sort of elaborate knowledge of firearms I could swallow the pill a little easier, but no, right out of the clear blue he’s certain that someone made a bullet.  Whatever.  You get the point.  Couldn’t Negan have nabbed Eugene for some other reason?  Hell, does he even need a reason?

The most significant moments of “Hearts Still Beating” occur as the episode begins to wind down.  Daryl escapes with the aid of Jesus, savagely murdering a scared fat guy who gives us a shred of enlightenment when he pleads, “I’m just tryin’ to get by man, just like you!”  Daryl is understandably beyond all appeals of reason from these people (hence the skull-busting) though I did kinda feel bad for the fat fella.

Also of import is Richard’s (one of Ezekiel’s main soldiers, like the Kingdom’s head of security or something) pitch to Carol and Morgan regarding the Saviors.  The 2 communities seem to be at odds with each other a lot less than the Saviors’ other subordinate settlements, yet the relationship appears tenuous based on the exchange we saw back in “The Well.”  Richard evidently recognizes the volatility of the Saviors and the inevitability that relations will sour and seeks to act proactively despite Ezekiel’s passive and placating nature.  He needs warriors behind him, and he needs help in convincing Ezekiel to go to war.  Carol goes into full-on bitch-mode without a shred of regard or concern for basically anyone, refusing almost to the point of stubbornness.  

Meanwhile, Morgan is so goddamned in love with every scrap of life that he fails to even make any sense, espousing his philosophy to the point of ridiculousness by saying pretentious shit like, “you don’t have to kill them, you just think you have to,” or something of equal flavor and devoid of practical meaning.  I don’t quite get it to be honest, and it almost seems like Morgan is of the impression that just because he doesn’t want to kill someone means that they won’t kill him.  Or all these other folks he claims to give a shit about.  Then as an enraged and dejected Richard departs, Morgan and Carol manage to get into the same tired altercation where Carol just covers her ears and shuts her eyes and shouts, “leave me alone!” until the room is clear.  (That doesn’t literally happen, I’m just so sick of it and her one-track mind.)  It’s a shame because I really thought the vaguely philosophical banter between Morgan and Carol would lead to some interesting conclusions, but all it’s done is spiral into the same tired and ultimately meaningless cyclical gridlock.

Richard then goes and has a Governor-esque moment in his hidden camper full of what I assume to be off-the-record supplies...not really sure what all that’s about but I’m pulling for him and he’s got the sort of mindset that’ll really jumpstart this played out “Negan will fuck your ass up” storyline.  And judging by the previews for the second half of the season he won’t be alone for long.  But he’ll probably die before long, since that’s what happens to tertiary characters right about the time you learn their name and they become a recognizable face.

Then there’s the matter of Michonne, who without hardly breaking a sweat learns where the Sanctuary is.  And then she kills the bitch that drove her there in straight up cold blood.  But she does gain some valuable tactical info about the Saviors, which is a hell of a lot more than anyone else has managed.  She comes home to an absolutely shattered version of Rick (the 2 appear to have gotten pretty serious about each other) and somehow, between her almost anti-inspirational speech about the behemoth that is the Saviors and Rick’s crushing psychological dismantling at the hands of Negan, convinces our fearless leader that the time for war has come.  The A-team marches up to the Hilltop and lucky for them, Sasha, Maggie, and Jesus have all come to a similar conclusion.  Daryl is finally reunited with the group and you know damn well he’s ready to slit the throats of any and every warm body in the Sanctuary. They’ve also got an ally in Richard who’s over in his camper breaking bottles and crying, they just don’t know it yet.  At this point it looks like Oceanside wants to do anything but fight, plus no one knows about them save for Tara anyway, though I think it’s apparent that they’ll somehow be drawn into the coming conflict.

And so the halfway point wraps on an inspirational, borderline uplifting note.  The promise of action seems inherent, but The Walking Dead has a weird way of putting off honest to goodness action and narrative momentum so I’ll try to temper my expectations.  We still don’t know what happened to Heath (do we care...?) and Eugene’s fate is anything but certain (seriously though, how many times can we watch the poor guy oscillate between blubbering weiner and doing something requiring balls...) but otherwise this was a mostly satisfying mid-season finale and a welcome change from the bullshit cliffhangers we’ve become all too accustomed to.

The dead returns on February 12th, and hopefully I’ll be in a position (and remember) to at least catch the encore or encore-encore broadcast.  Overall this hasn’t been the best of front-half seasons, though I wouldn’t consider it a failure, just paced a little too oddly for its own good.  Maybe instead of devoting an episode to the Kingdom, and then another to Alexandria, and then another to Hilltop, and then another to Oceanside, TWD could take 2 or 3 of them an alternate between storylines in a single episode - shows do it all the time.  We get a segment of Alexandria, cut to commercial, come back to Oceanside, and so on.  I feel like this would do a lot to alleviate the choppy, disconnected feeling of the series at this point, and it would also provide some padding for plot threads like those of Oceanside (the episode “Swear”) where we don’t really have a strong lead to adequately carry the show.  As an example, regardless of what you think of Alana Masterson’s acting abilities, it’s just plain fact that Tara doesn’t have enough of an emotional rapport with the audience to carry her own episode.  Conversely, Morgan and Carol are certainly able to do just that, yet fail to (back in “The Well”) because of how the episode is written.  The limitations of TV actually become more apparent when the show hedges all its bets like this, and I sincerely hope that this doesn’t happen again.  They did the same shit back in Season 4 with the journey to Terminus; it was frustrating to watch then and it’s frustrating to watch now.

I liken it to different subjects in school.  In a given 6-ish hour day you go to something like 4 to 6 different classes...stuff like math, English, history, science, music, art, and so on.  What if Mondays were all about math.  You get to school and for 6 straight hours you’re bombarded with nothing but math.  Then comes Tuesday and you’ve gotta study history for 6 hours, and so on.  Now if you really love math, Mondays are going to be fucking awesome for you.  But if you absolutely abhor history, Tuesdays are going to be one long ass unforgiving hell.  The alternative?  Why not study each subject for an hour every day?  Every morning you’ve got an hour of math, and then an hour of science, and then an hour of history, etc.  Sure, you only get to study what you love for an hour of a day, but a) at least you get a little bit of what you really enjoy everyday instead of once a week, and b) that history class that you really can’t stand only lasts an hour.  No matter how bad it is, you’re only 59 minutes away from reprieve, which I think we can all agree is a hell of a lot better than 359 minutes.

There’s another advantage to smaller daily doses as well.  If you’re doing English and only English on Wednesdays, you may cover a lot of ground, but how much of that is going to stick from then all the way until the following Wednesday?  Not only are you dealing with whatever volume of material that can be stuffed into 6 hours, you’ve got to retain this massive block of information for 7 days and in the midst of 6-hour chunks of all sorts of other information!  See what I’m saying?  Now if you approach it the other way, you’ve got a lot less information to hang on to and a lot less time that you’re forced to retain it.

In case my point wasn’t crystal clear by now, I’m saying that devoting entire episodes to a single thread is detrimental to the viewing experience and may actually hurt one’s view of the show.  If, for example, you really just can’t get behind and identify with Tara’s character, then the entire episode of “Swear” is going to be a complete and utter bust for you.  It’s also a jolt to be forced to re-acclimate to a different setting every episode too.  “Ok, so we’re back in Alexandria...wait, what happened last time?  Is so-and-so still here?  Does so-and-so know that such-and-such happened?”  It can be tough to recall the finer details and plot points of past episodes, especially considering that, if you watch it as it airs, it may be 3 or 4 weeks between appearances by a certain character.  So c’mon folks, delegate these stories properly between episodes; if you ask me, this whole method of singularly focusing on a single situation per episode is kinda...well...lazy.

Finally, the other aspect that’s held this half-a-season back is the lack of emotional depth and/or character development regarding our Big Bad.  I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again (and so have others):  Negan’s endless chatter gets fucking boring.  “Less is more” would’ve been an appropriate philosophy when approaching the portrayal of Negan.  His peculiar brand of jovial ruthlessness would make much more of an impression if his monologues were used sporadically and to punctuate certain events rather than outright carry them.  The simple fact is that Negan is a victim of over-exposure.  Now were he an actual person this wouldn’t be so bad, because ideally all this time we spend with him would reveal multiple layers to his personality.  But we never really get to this point.  I also said earlier that Negan is little more than evil for the sake of evil, and while disturbing, it still gets old because all we really see is that he’s doing awful shit because he enjoys doing awful shit and will continue to do so.  He is a very static character in all regards and I feel like this is/was a grievous error committed by the writers. 

It is possible that the latter half of Season 7 can help make up for the lackluster experience of wading through the former half, but we’ll have to see some damn crafty work.  There ain’t room for more than 1 or 2 duds...no more of these hard breaks between threads and lots more advancement of the plot, whatever that may be.  One critic remarked that this first half was like “laying out all the pieces on the new chessboard” and that we “finally got to moving some of them around” going into the 7th episode “Sing Me a Song.”  This is a pretty accurate metaphor (if not a tad euphemistic) for what we’ve seen thus far, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this is a chess match worth watching.