#green skin? fuck man I ain’t a doctor just don’t drop dead on the job and we’re cool

[kaysdenofchaos]

TMMT Mikey having part time jobs in both the yokai and human districts

He tries to cover up and wears a really dumb human disguise that all his coworkers see past, except they don’t care bc 1) it’s probably medical and they know their job doesn’t give enough health insurance, 2) it ain’t their business, and 3) for a dude they’re convinced comes in high he’s a damn good worker

[thewalkingdeadfanfictions]

Noting or Something Chapter 1 - Meeting a One Handed Redneck

My name is Nai. Considering that it literally means the concept of nothing it's evident that my parents, if they could even be called that, didn't think much of me. Though anyone could figure that out after they abandoned me in the streets of Atlanta. All because when I hit the age of ten I was no longer useful to them thus could be discarded as the piece of nothing they viewed me as. But considering that I'm still alive and kicking after the dead woke up, fifteen years later, I'd say I proved them wrong. However, I did end up getting stuck, on my own, in the same city where I ended up living, working, and studying.

I tried going home, to Old Man Greene’s, when the deadheads showed up in the city but the government closed off the city, no one in and no one out. The military bastards then took my car and told me to go home on foot. Not even an hour later the bombs dropped on the city, the number of deadheads skyrocketed, and the people left got desperate. I needed to find a way to safely get out of the city on foot since I needed to avoid the living, not get eaten alive, and couldn’t hot-wire a car. I tried but I obviously had no idea what I was doing and just attracted deadheads. So the first few weeks I spent observing the dead and testing theories. And now sixty-one days later the stench of the dead clung to me as I have perfected my camouflage against them.

The jars of blood and guts connected to my bag took a while to collect and get the consistency right. You would think that it would have been easy, collecting the blood and guts of the dead, but just the slightest hint of me they attacked so it had to seem that it was coming from me and strong enough to cover the scent of me. Finally, I was able to safely leave the city and start my journey to Old Man Greene's farm. Hell, I could walk through a horde if I wanted to and I was almost tempted to. It would be the fastest route but then I would run the risk of getting randomly killed via survivors just killing deadheads at random. So the safest bet would be to mix walking through alleys and the streets.

Walking down an alley, not even a block away from my apartment, I see feet sticking out from behind a dumpster. My hand flies to the handle of my knife at my side as I slowly approach them. Once in front of them my eyes travel upwards to find a large graying man slumped against the wall with a still faintly smoking stump at his side. I reach out with my foot quickly and kick the kitchen knife he had behind me before I ask “Hey Mister? Ya alive?” His eyes snap open and his good arm reaches for the knife that was no longer there as he rasps out “Get the fuck away from me ya dead bastard!” “I’m alive. But won’t be for long if ya don’t calm the fuck down.” I tell him glancing around, knowing that the deadheads would be attracted to not only yelling but the faint smell of burned flesh as well, causing him to breathe out “What’?” as he stands up, his good arm’s hand clenched in a fist. He must have just collapsed here not long ago as the alley was still, at least at this second, clear of deadheads.

“Shit.” I breathe out then when I hear a deadhead in the street roar meaning our time was running out, and fast. Turning I snatch up the knife he had, place it in the hem of my pants, and tell him “Look I don’t know who ya are but I’m not gonna let ya be deadhead chow.” As I approach him slowly while putting my own knife away. He was obviously suffering from blood loss and a very low low/initial withdrawal from whatever drugs he had been on. Having worked in a bar in a not so nice part of the city made me good at spotting addicts or even recovering/recovered addicts a mile away and he was definitely one but I couldn’t leave him here. When someone turned their deadhead was about five times stronger than its living counterpart, or at least it seemed like that. And I didn’t want to face this man’s deadhead or be responsible for his death so my only option was to help him before either happened.

I could feel his pale blue eyes stare down at me as he sizes me up probably trying to figure out if I was a threat as I watch for deadheads that are sure to be coming any second. Unfortunately and at the same time luckily I probably wasn’t to someone of his stature, even in his current condition. Sure I knew how to handle my knife and knew self-defense but that wouldn’t help me much considering that I was probably less than half his weight and that he was still alive. Deadheads were easy but the living…most were desperate to ensure their own survival and most aren’t and or wouldn’t be too friendly to a female on her own so I’ve generally avoided them and I generally don’t have much experience in that department. I would need that experience to make it out unscathed if a fight between me and the living did go down but I couldn’t just leave this man here.

“Come on. I don’t think ya wanna be deadhead chow.” I say taking a risk and throwing his good arm around my shoulders when one stumbles into view. “What’re ya doin’ Kid?” He questions leaning most of his weight on me but walks with me anyway so I question “Helpin’ ya. What’s it look like?” This causes him to chuckle out “Don’t need it Kid.” “Too bad. From where I’m standing ya do.” I counter earning the question of “What do ya want?” “Nothin’. It may be the end of the world but that don’t mean that it’s the end of who I am.” I scoff annoyed at the continued use of the label Kid. Though it’s better than the nickname ‘Jailbait Nai’ since most people initially viewed me as a child until they saw my I.D. or saw what I actually looked like under my baggy clothes. Curse my small physique. Though I wouldn’t correct him just yet, as if he continued to view me as a child I’d probably remain not a threat.

Once back in the apartment building I lead us back to my apartment, which I only vacated maybe an hour ago. Unlocking the door I lead him in, kick the door shut behind us, and help him onto the couch before going to the door, locking it, and pushing the dresser back in front of it and placing his knife on it. Once that was done I go back over to him and say “Let me see.” Pointing to his stump. Staring me down again he slowly holds it out to me asking “What’s up wit yer eyes?” I keep my movements slow and cautious as I take it and inspect the damage and regurgitate the definition “Heterochromia iridum, is the difference in coloration in two anatomical structures or two parts of the same structure which are normally alike in color, usually of the iris of the eyes but also of hair or skin.”

“Ya know what ya doin’ Kid?” He asks then so I tell him “Yeah. Old Man’s a vet and I was on track to be a doctor before the world went to shit. Ya did a good job at sealing the wound but it needs to be cleaned and dressed.” As I take my bag off and get the first aid kit and a bottle of water out of it. Setting them on the table I go and get a washcloth from the hall closet as he grumbles something under his breath. Rolling my eyes I come back and see him picking at the scab. “Trust me ya don’t wanna do that.” I say when I stand in front of him causing him to growl lowly but stop. “I’m sorry but I don’t have anything stronger than water. If I don’t do this it’ll get infected and ya’ll lose more than just the hand.” I tell him when I take hold of his stump again which caused him to wince as his good hand goes into a fist.

“What’s yer name?” I ask then as I start the process to try and keep his probably still clouded mind off of it. “Merle Dixon.” He grunts so I quickly say “I’m Nai Greene. Ya just happened to get yer hand cut off when I decided that I could start making my way home. I didn’t even make it a block away till I found ya.” “Yer telling me ya’ve been here in this apartment the whole time?” He asks laughing so I say “No, I’m saying I’ve been in the city the whole time. Sure I’ve spent most of the time here in this building, bleeding it dry of resources, but I was out there when the deadheads got here. I tried going home but they closed off the city, no one in, no one out. Then they dropped those bombs tripling the number of deadheads and making it impossible for me to even attempt to head home without some sort of protection.”

“Ya got siblings?” He asks then so I say “Two younger sisters and a younger brother.” “I got a brother, Daryl. He’s at a camp outside the city.” He tells me then so I say “Well, tomorrow I’d say ya’d be strong enough to go there if ya rest, eat, and drink. Ya seem like the type that can handle anything that’s thrown at ya.” “Why are ya helping me?” He asks again so I say “Because I can.” “That’s not an answer Kid.” He scoffs so I ask “Do I need a specific reason?” “Yes.” He answers staring me down again so I sigh, shrug, and say “I don’t know. Maybe since I would feel guilty if I left ya there and ya became deadhead chow or a deadhead. Or that I know what it’s like to be alone in a dangerous place. During and before this and that’s not a way I could leave someone. Or just because I have the means too. It doesn’t really matter when ya think about it.”

“I don’t need yer help anymore and I ain’t into kiddies so there’s no reason to keep ya around.” He tells me then looking genuinely disgusted at the thought so I shrug and tell him “That’s fine. I had no intention of either. I have my own place to be and ya have yers.” This causes him to chuckle as I finish wrapping his arm, check my watch, sigh knowing I’ve basically wasted another day in the city by helping him as it was too late to head back out, pull out a packet of pop-tarts, and another bottle of water while I put the first-aid kit away before handing both to him saying “Ya can sleep in the spare room, the first on the right, or ya can sleep here on the couch. If ya take the couch there’s spare sheets in the hall closet, first on the left. I don’t have much left but yer welcome to anything left but please don’t break anything or leave until I get up. I’d like to have some sort of security.” He just looks at me like he couldn’t believe how stupid I was so I smile at him before I start to walk back to my room until I hear him mutter “Thanks for helpin’ me out Kid.” I look over my shoulder at him and tell him “Don’t mention it Dixon.” And chuckle a little when he looks over at me a little shocked that I heard him. “Don’t worry Dixon. I won’t tell anyone yer actually a decent guy.” I say winking at him before walking to my room chuckling as I hear him grumble something along the lines of “Damn Kid saying shit.”

Once in my room I lock the door and push the dresser to block it too. For whatever reason I wholeheartedly trusted that the one-handed redneck called Merle Dixon that I dragged into my apartment wouldn’t hurt me but not that he wouldn’t leave before I got up. Like I told him, he probably was a decent enough man but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t leave me alone, in fact, I knew that he probably would and honestly expected it. It would be dangerous to his own survival to worry about someone else especially with his injury and the worst of his withdrawals that are sure to start in a few days. And if he wanted to get back to his brother he needed to do that quickly before they started, especially if they’re going to include seizures and hallucinations.

I then restock my bag with the few supplies that I had hidden in my room, in case someone broke in and raided my main supplies. That done I check that the fire escape ladder I had was ready and waiting by the window before situating myself in my spot on the floor of my closet, with my knife resting at my side. Closing my eyes I listen to the sounds surrounding me, in and out of my apartment, like I’ve done every day after I made my way back here and after I finished doing what had to be done that day to conserve energy and sharpen my senses. This had probably saved me the few times I was searching the lower levels and heard faint voices of survivors so I locked and blocked the doors of the apartment I was in before they got to it and caught me off guard. After a few hours my watch quietly beeps telling me that the sun was about to set so I shut off the alarm and lay down with my knife now resting in my hand. Deadheads often got more active when the sun went down so it was safer to get to a secure location before, thus the alarm.

****Time Skip****

           The quite beeping of my watch woke me up like normal. Shutting it off, I listen for any sound of danger before I put my knife back in its sheath at my side and then stretching. Putting my bag back on I get out of the closet and move the dresser away from the door. Unlocking the door, I open it, head into the hallway, check the spare room, shrug, and head to the front door but stop when I hear “Just gonna leave without goodbye Kid?” from behind me. Looking over my shoulder I find Merle sitting at my table finishing off a bag of chips. “Yes.” I say as I move the dresser to the side and am about to unlock the door when he says “I was thinkin’…” trailing off. Sighing I turn and look at him asking “About what?” “Ya have my knife.” He says then so I sigh out “I left it on this dresser and it’s not there anymore so ya have it. What were ya really thinking about?” “Ya really just gonna head out on yer own?” He asks so I tell him “Get to the point Dixon.” He doesn’t say anything so I shake my head and tell him “The spare key’s on top of the door. Please lock it when ya leave.” Before heading out the door. Whatever it was probably had to do with whatever he dreamed or hallucinated about last night.

****Time Skip****

I was almost out of the city when I suddenly hear heavy footsteps followed by "Well if it isn't little Jailbait Nai." from behind me. Whipping around I come face to face with a group of five gangbangers that frequented the bar that I worked at. I instantly feel my skin crawl and my heart drop into my stomach seeing the look of lust in their eyes. Unlike at work I didn’t have the bartender or bouncer to help out if they got physical. My hand flies to the handle of the knife at my side when they start approaching, resisting the urge to run knowing I wouldn’t make it far. I'd witnessed many of their knife games when the darts “went missing” and knew how accurate their aim was. My best bet would be to try and take them out quickly or injure their hands so I could run. If I failed I didn’t even want to think about what they’d do to me before leaving me for dead, killing me, or taking me with them.

They stop a few steps away and the leader looks me up and down licking his lips saying "The apocalypse has been kind to ya." "Really? I don't believe it's been kind to anyone." I retort proud that my voice didn't crack but that was short lived when he quickly takes me by the head and slams me into the alley wall. My head connects to the brick wall painfully, instantly causing black spots to explode into my vison, and causing me to drop my knife while my knees buckle at the pain so the only thing keeping me up was his hand pressing my head into the wall. But I still manage to calmly ask him "What’re ya doing?" causing him to falter a bit, as I was probably not reacting how they wanted, but that's when another says "Shut up bitch. We're gonna have some fun with ya." "I think we have different definitions of fun." I say reaching up and grabbing his arm, trying to relieve some of the pressure he was putting on my head. This causes them to laugh as the leader rips my shirt open before throwing me to the ground causing them to swarm me.

I quickly get up and try to run but get grabbed again as they keep laughing. I’m gagged before I’m thrown back to the ground and get swarmed again and know that at this point I’m screwed and need to do anything I can to get away. Struggling hard as they try to unbutton my pants I manage to kick one of them in the face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose breaking. He stumble back choking on his own blood before falling motionless causing one to run over and check his pulse before growling “He’s dead. The bitch killed him.” That’s when I get punched in the face before getting a knife pressed to my throat as the leader says “I was gonna make it enjoyable for ya but now we’re gonna rip ya apart.”

I glare at him causing him to chuckle before he suddenly freezes and falls on top of me with a knife sticking out of the back of his head. This causes the others to loosen their grip on my arms a little as they stare at something down the alley and say “Woah man take it easy. There’s enough of her to go around. We don’t mind sharing.” “Get the fuck away from her.” I hear Merle growl then so I rip my arms away before ripping the knife out of the leader’s head and driving it into the knee of one of them. “You bitch!” He screeches and falls as there’s the sound of fighting with the two others. A deadhead roars as I then rip the knife out of the guy’s knee and push the leader’s body off of me. Time was running out, and quickly.

Standing I kick him growling “Shut up bitch.” Before I grab the knife the leader had from the ground and drive it into the head of one of the one’s fighting Merle. Now one on one Merle has the upper hand, even with only one, and is able to slam the guy’s face into the wall repeatedly. “Dixon! Come on!” I call grabbing my knife off the ground when deadheads start stumbling into the alley from the street. With one more smash he nods at me so I take off down the alley with him close behind before the few guys still living started screaming as they get torn apart. And I don’t stop running till I couldn’t hear the screaming anymore.

Breathing heavily I back up into the wall and sink to the floor, my whole body shaking. From the adrenaline crash and knowing what almost just happened. “Ya okay Kid?” Merle asks, gentler than I ever thought was possible from the large man as he kneels in front of me. Slowly looking up at him I couldn’t stop the tears from falling then seeing the true concern in his eyes as I ask “Why? Why did ya help me?” “Cuz I ain’t gonna let anyone touch anyone or especially ya like that Kid.” He tells me as he places his good hand on my shoulder. “Thanks.” I whisper throwing my arms around his neck and hugging him before quickly releasing him coughing awkwardly.

He chuckles as he touches the side of my face that was hit saying “Them bastards did a number on ya.” Before his eyes trail down and he asks “Ya got another shirt?” Looking down I remember that my poor shirt was now ruined and my chest was visible for anyone to see. Though luckily I opted to wear a sports bra so it wasn’t that much being revealed. “Stop that.” I growl then realizing that Merle was checking me out causing him to chuckle and asks “Ya not really a Kid are ya?” “Old Man’d say otherwise.” I state standing up and tying the shirt together not wanting to dig through my bag for another shirt or waste time changing it.

“I could get used to that look, Peepers.” He says standing up and looking me up and down so I roll my eyes and tell him “Down Dixon.” He chuckles again starting to walk away but pauses, looks over his shoulder at me, and asks “Ya comin’ or what?” “Ya know how to hot wire a car?” I ask then causing him to scoff and say “Yeah, just gotta find a good one.” Sighing I nod and catch up to him, I mean it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have him around. “What did ya mean when ya said especially me?” I ask then but he just grumbles “Don’t worry about it.” So I groan out “Men.”