#so a lil less reliant on all that anyway

[morninkim]

some goth dude in his 50s

capeless version under cut

[zai-doodles]

Hi, I really love your art and you are just so talented and I really really try to be patient but please pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty. Please tell me the Lore with Levy and her pen. I can’t wait any longer. I’m just so curious and so excitedto know how you wrote her magic the Lore you have for her but if you don’t want to that’s OK anyway I hope you have a nice day. Bye ❤️ 

lol sorry for ignoring this i fr couldn't figure out how I wanted to word this and it requires some context for my world building which idk if anyone cares abt but whatever I'm gonna pop off

summary of the magic system is that there r 3 types of magic, innate, holder and patron, they r all v self explanitory

script magic is innate, it is also the overall category for any magic that deals with the actually written symbols of magic (curse and rune magic r both branches of script magic basically)

And for context in my rewrite I have it so fairies r the ones who gift humans with magic to begin with and eventually people started being born with like pointy ears and higher affinity for magic and thats how the pixie race was made

its a pretty common form of magic

ok onto levy specific

my idea for levy is that shes half pixie half hybrid (basically this world's version of furry there's lore for it but that's all u need to know for now)

ANYWAY

All this to say that levy is a very skilled wizard with a love for books and reading and by the time canon starts she's basically the best script mage around, mainly bc she experiments with offensive script magic where as before the magic type was usually reliant on someone else with a more offensive type

This is because script mages need to actually write out the runes and symbols with some kind of Wand, which takes a sec to set up and even then its hard to hurt someone with a word if they have time to move, this also differentiates it from curse magic, which is entirely oral and is overall less refined (most of the time but ill talk abt that if I talk abt freed lol)

Like it's much easier to use a curse than to do script bc script is containing a spell within the lettering rather than like, attacking the person's magic core kinda???

Idk how to explain it but it makes sense in my brain

So buffs and support r the most common for script mages but levy is my Mary sue and I love her

So basically because she's mastered so many languages she's basically invented her own form of magic language for her spells, not unheard of in this world since it's also like a form of short hand that can usually tell u who wrote those runes

However this is usually only based on one or two languages since mixing different styles of like, characters? Can take more time and cause the spell to take even longer to cast

I'm explaining this terribly and making it seem so complicated

But its literally just levy teaches herself her own little language to writer her spells in that's basically magical cursive so it prioritizes speed above all else, that means it's sometimes kind of destructive and not as precise but she's working on it

Eventually tho, when they find tenrou island and have a huge lore dump abt Mavis (who is a fairy), levy is able to get her hands on fae language and magic runes and begins incorporating them into her spells and it's the final things she was looking for to make her spells more stable

The pen was something her and droy collab on basically, due to how unstable script magic can be she needed something able to handle the full brunt of her magic to essentially be her arcane focus

The pen is made from a tree droy grew himself, slowly feeding it magic, somehow dont ask me idk, so it could eventually handle levys power

The idea was from an offahnded comment levy made in an attempt to show droy the potential of his magic since in my lil hc he feels like the least useful member of the 3 (which is dumb and he isnt) and levy hit him and was like no u dumbass magic plants r dope and rattles off weird theories on how it could be used in different ways

hope this was at all comprehensive!

[feekins]

woof. ch 6 is a LONG and DENSE one. I foresee this post getting a bit text-heavy to compensate for The Tunglr's ten-image limit. in any case, here are more of my thoughts and things and whatever translation weirdness I find as I re-read Trigun Maximum vol 4!

(NOTE: I'm reading the Dark Horse [physical] and the Overhaul [online] translations side-by-side)

(Dark Horse on left, Overhaul on right)

so. interesting start. Dark Horse's "fell to this planet with us" implies that worms (wamz? bah. from what I remember, they're p consistently collectively referred to as "worms" in the manga, so yeah, I'm going with "worms" from here on out) are also extraterrestrial to Noman's Land. I can see how/why the mix-up could've happened, though, so to me it's just a funny lil quirk of the Dark Horse translation. nothing egregious. also, although both translations effectively set Vash and Knives apart from humanity here, I appreciate the specificity of the Overhaul's "Yes-- These are the different ones."

then, right after the title page, I LOVE that detail we're given about Zazie - that they "can naturally read the feelings/emotions of all living things" (Dark Horse/Overhaul, respectively). and then Meryl apologizing to them? and Zazie not quite getting why? is adorable (Meryl and Zazie ship when?) 😊

back with Vash and Hoppered's fight...the translations for the first page where it's the both of them speaking (the one starting with Vash yelling for ppl to run) are similar enough - but Dark Horse's translation of the middle panel...idk. intrigues me.

whereas the Overhaul has "The one they should be running from is you," Dark Horse went with "These insects should run from you," which. might imply. interesting things, imo, if you'll excuse the following brief descent into literary analysis. one could argue that it's indicative of how drastically Hoppered's life/identity/ideals shifted post-July, focused totally on eventual revenge to the exclusion of/with utter disdain toward that of humans who aren't traumatized the way he is. that said...we know as a fact that being a GHG was only ever a means to an end for him, and also, he couldn't give less of a shit about Knives' ultimate goals. so it's strange how Dark Horse has Hoppered referring to humans as "insects" when Knives does the same (except Dark Horse doesn't keep that wording, I suspect for reasons relating to its irl usage in racism, genocide, etc, as others have pointed out in the tags of one of my previous book club posts).

ANYWAY.

on the page where we see Hoppered watching July's destruction from afar...Dark Horse translates what Hoppered says to "You snatched it away. You tore it...in half!" meanwhile, the Overhaul has "You took it all away! You tore it to pieces!" and that's hitting me WAY harder than Dark Horse's ever has 🥺

when Zazie is explaining Vash's and Knives' gates - two things. ① in Dark Horse, Zazie says in the second panel "The flow from those two is tremendous" (vague, always made me scratch my head) whereas the Overhaul has "The flow of energy from those two is tremendous." y'all whose first and/or only time(s) reading the manga via the Overhaul are so spoiled lemme tell u (I say this affectionately - I'm just happy I'm finally getting The Good Shit, too, this read-through :,D ). ② last panel - Dark Horse has Zazie saying "Don't you understand? Those two are self-reliant" whereas the Overhaul has "You understand? Those two are self-reliant. Independent." EXCUSE ME WHILE I LOSE MY SHITDJGGDJXJ

"will" (vague) VS "will to survive" (explicit)

it's interesting that Dark Horse went with "benefactors" considering ① the death and destruction the twins are responsible for and, more importantly, ② the title of the chapter, which both translations have as "The Bystanders"

(also...Dark Horse, you big silly, you literally started the chapter saying the twins "fell to the planet" and now you're implying they were born here...? 🤣 )

(Dark Horse on top, Overhaul on bottom)

we know that "your companion" refers to Vash...so Dark Horse always confused me by then saying "your friend" whereas it's clear in the Overhaul that Zazie is still talking about Vash.

and it's weird how we have, in Dark Horse, Zazie mentioning just a few pages ago that they can sense others' emotions, but now "yeah, idk how deep Knives' hate is." the Overhaul specifying that this is true despite Zazie's abilities...is...honestly horrifying, separating Knives even further apart from humanity than Zazie.

no comment on this translation discrepancy. I just think it's neat c:

same with these - I'd just have everything highlighted here 🤭

...and it's at this point that I realize I'm running out of spoons for commentary;;;;;;;;

interesting translation discrepancy with "that punisher" VS "once I have the Punisher" autocorrect I promise it's not called the Publisher djgdjgjgx

also. Milly's line. the Overhaul's translation is a way better fit, but I'm not telling why 😜

Dark Horse choosing to use "us" is interesting - grouping Zazie, Midvalley, and Hoppered together, as if all 3 of them are in on this. only in the Overhaul do we see that Zazie separates themselves from them - from Midvalley, specifically - while also doing a better job at conveying how insanely OP Knives is.

aaaaaand we end with more weird Dark Horse vagueness and a mounting sense of dread (at least for me) from the Overhaul!

AAAAAAA IT'S ALL COMING TOGETHER JXGGFHXDGJ 🤩🤩🤩

[blossoming-sun]

Okay so AU where Sheriff is both the supreme commander and a member of La Resistance (putting it below the cut cause this will be LONG)

So Sheriff was bitten by a mutant and fell into the chasm. Because Ryan did not realise that it was so deep, he jumped in to try and protect sheriff and died. Forever. Sheriff was very badly injured but survived thanks to mutation. Before he blacked out, he saw Ryans mangled corpse on the ground beside him and just kind of… lost it. He’s had a horrible life up until this point, and Ryan was the only good thing in it. Seeing him dead just… destroyed him. Because of the anger inside of him, he got morphed into the Supreme commander. He has a bunch of cool supreme commander abilities (I’ll make a list below) but almost all of them are reliant on his lil head blob thing. Meaning that he can’t use them without his lil head blob being on his head. So basically Sheriff devised a plan: Get his mutant army to search for humans that were particularly strong or skilled and infect them, and the rest can just die or something he doesn’t really care. So the mutants are killing everyone, and then Sheriff gets some good news. Some mutants have found the morphonite! So because he doesn’t trust the mutants not to mess everything up (they’re really not smart) he goes to get the morphonite himself. So he goes into the city, gets the morphonite, and decides to go to a nearby human town to stay the night, because he wants to look for humans to either kill for fun, or infect. He puts his lil head blob in a backpack, puts some bandages on the infected part of his face and strolls into town. Nobody likes him at all. He decides that this is enough to kill them. He was gonna do it anyway. He sneaks behind a corner, puts blob on his head, and telepathically orders a nearby group of fetid gas to come destroy the entire town. Then he puts blob back in his backpack and goes to a bar, because he wants to watch everyone die (and piss off the townspeople even more). So he’s there, the mutants attack, and he attracts their attention to the bar where everyone is hiding. And then he sees Shooter be a total hero and shoot them all. Sheriff decides to help kill the mutants because he has plenty more and he really just wants to see someone die today. He wants to infect shooter when they leave town, but one thing led to another and then he finds himself joining an anti-mutant group. He decides to stick around for a while to see the full extent of La resistance, then infect all the members.

And then he accidentally loses his backpack (with the blob inside) and he can’t infect them anymore. He basically loses all his powers and has to try and get his blob back before La resistance completes their goal/ realises who he is

Bonus notes:

Sheriff doesn’t have any mutantation pains because he is fully mutated

Nobody new he was “part-mutant” (that’s his cover story) until the grand reveal

He lost his blob in episode 19. The reason he didn’t infect anyone before then was because he was kind of amused by their goal, wanted to see if they had any other members, and was testing them to see if they’d make good soldiers

Nobody found out that Sheriff was “part mutant” until after he lost his blob, in episode 24. They discovered it because Sheriffs face bandages fell off because of the water and stuff

He is like. The best liar in the world everyone believes his sob stories

Wart basically had a heart attack when Sheriff showed up for the mushroom with La Resistance

He can’t eat vegetables. They’re like poison to him. This goes for all mutants

He was never in love with Vegan. He’s too evil for that.

He didn’t get his blob back until episode 50. Then he did the most shocking evil reveal ever and everyone was so shocked and betrayed

He wasn’t corrupted by the mutation he’s just evil

Maybe his time around humans made him less evil though…

Sheriff’s powers:

Can summon any mutants within 1000km of him. It’s a lot harder once they start to get further away or when he isn’t entirely focused (Only with blob.)

Shapeshift between semi-mutant and supreme form (with blob)

Super strength

Mutants and half mutants will obey his orders (Can do it without the blob, but it is a lot harder and won’t work for half-mutants. Mutants and half-mutants will be able to sense that he is someone they should respect/obey though)

Infect humans (only with blob)

Gain a power boost from holding morphonite

About the blob:

So its like… not sentient or anything… Basically it doesn’t have a mind of its own, its mind is basically just formed from Sheriffs opinions, thoughts etc. It can’t disobey Sheriff and doesn’t ever really move (it can move, it just doesn’t) It isn’t alive and doesn’t need to eat or anything to survive. Sheriff can’t control it unless it’s touching him directly. If he isn’t touching it, he loses all contact with it and it kinda goes into a dormant state? But when he lost it in the river, it basically just drifted around for ages and because of science and currents if flowed out to sea and to the North Pole (Assuming that MB takes place in Spain, ((the show is originally Spanish iirc)), this is possible, although it would take a while) and when it was there one of the more intelligent mutants (probably that yeti colossus) found it and brought it back to the giant mutant castle and it just sat there until Sheriff returned.

[daydreamslikewaves]

This is bordering on a crack!headcannon but

I think Chrissy is someone who gets cold easily; she is tiny and especially in the first couple of months into her friendship-turning-dating situ with Eddie she is still undernourished so, yeah - cold. 

Anyway this means that when they sleep, naturally, she gravitates toward his warmth in the night. And we all know guys run hot but he runs hot. Incinerator-level hot. So Chrissy gravitates. But to an extent that she doesn’t just curl up into his side, or slide her leg between his, or anything like that. No, a lot of the time, she damn hear climbs on top of him. Like he’s got his own personal Chrissy-blanket, or something. She often takes the duvet with her when she does this, wrapping it over her like a cape so that she can twist the ends of it under her forearms when she is in position, essentially locking them in place. It’s even more impressive when Eddie realises that she carries out this maneuver without fully waking up.

He, on the other hand, almost always wakes up when she’s in the middle of doing this, but he really doesn’t mind. He drifts back to sleep relatively easily and in the morning he DOES wake up overheated, even if she’s slid off back to his side later on in the night. He just cannot bear the thought of disturbing her (or complaining to be honest, I mean, his cute lil’ gf likes to clamber over him in her sleep? This is not a problem). She blushes profusely the first time he teases her about it but he reassures her it’s fine - and fucking adorable.

Eventually it starts happening less and less because she is less reliant on his body heat, so it just simmers down to the more usual ‘snuggling into his side’ sort of thing. But occasionally Eddie does miss it; so much so that he gets a lil pouty and she just laughs, lunging for him and reminding him that if he wants a Chrissy-blanket, all he has to do is ask.

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 21

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 26/?

The noise beyond the infirmary door was Carol, who was deliberately making it known that her and Judith were waiting on the porch and didn’t want to barge in on anything. Jess went outside to greet her and in turn, spent a great deal of time giving her a run down of her version of events and an update on Daryl’s condition. She told her about him needing blood and her stepping up to provide it and also added that for now, she wanted to keep that minor detail from him. Her desire to play everything down and keep the dramatics at a low level was with Daryl in mind. The less there was to take in, the easier his recovery would be. They discussed his recovery and the changes that would need to be made, both of them admitting their reluctance to deal with his stubborn complaining. Eventually, Carol convinced an exhausted Jess to head to Aaron and Eric’s place and get some rest and food. Telling her she would sit with Daryl for a while and that Michonne would also be around when her guard shift finished, Jess agreed in the knowledge that he would have someone with him at all times but still had very little desire to leave his side.

From his bed, Daryl could see Jess through the window as she descended the stairs. He wondered when she would be back, not wanting her to spend her every waking moment by his bedside but being unable to deny that he was missing her being near to him already and it had only been 30 minutes since she left the room. He hated the fact that he seemed to be pining, something he thought only lovesick teenagers did. Since when was he so reliant on the presence of another person, let alone a female?

“Hey, you brought Lil’ asskicker” He announced when Carol finally entered the infirmary with Judith pinned to her hip.

“She misses you. She won’t settle for me or Rick much anymore. The only one she listens to is Carl” She said with an air of frustration. Judith was always more complaint with her Uncle Daryl over everyone else, a fact that he felt quietly smug about.

“That true kiddo? You actin up for ya ol’man and Carol?” He asked Judith who immediately decided she was going to act coy and hide in Carol’s shoulder. The change of scenery meant her shy side was activated and she wasn’t sure how to conduct herself when Uncle Daryl looked so different to usual. When Carol lifted her up and planted her on her lap, the child grabbed at Daryl’s hand and played with his fingers.

“How are you?” Carol asked.

“Gettin’ by.” He shrugged. The painkillers were still working their magic but he had done enough Oxy in his time to know that the feeling of contentment was nothing but a visage and soon, it would wear off.

“Jess said you wanted to come home” She mentioned.

“Damn right. Already hate being stuck in here. I know it's gonna be all ‘Don’t do this, drink this, go to sleep’, ain’t good with being told what to do.” He complained.

It was just how Carol expected him to be. It wasn’t in Daryl’s nature to be cooped up with a set of rules to follow. Nor was it like him to let anyone look after him when he was so used to looking out for himself. Her conversation with Jess made it clear that if she had an intention of playing nurse, Jess would soon quash them with her need to see him through his recovery herself. In a way, she was glad, Daryl could be a troublesome patient.

“I knew you’d be pretty mad about that. I got a run down from Jess. She said you’ll be fine with some time and rehabilitation. Sounds positive."

“Guess so. How you doin’ anyways?” He queried with an outright attempt to steer the topic away from himself. Judith was reciting ‘this little piggy’ as she pointed at Daryl’s fingers one by one, her muffle and badly enunciated speech melting into the background as she sang to herself.

“Fine.” She nodded. “Daryl what happened out there?”

There it was, the question he was waiting for. Carol wanted to hear his version for herself and he could have put money on her walking in and ordering him to relay the story from his perspective.

“Ain’t Rick or Jess told ya?” He asked with an exasperated sigh.

“Jess said you got shot trying to save her. Rick said you got shot trying to save Jess.” She relayed impatiently.

“Then that’s what happened.” He grumbled with a shrug

Carol leaned towards him and curled her fingers around his forearm.

“He could have killed you.” She pointed out.

“He was holdin’ a gun to her head, Carol!” He snapped “He was-he was talkin’ all sorts of shit ‘bout how she was a prize find. She just…she looked so fuckin’ scared. I wasn’t gonna let him hurt her. I had to do somethin’.”

Briefly, they both watched Judith, who had taken it upon herself to climb down from Carol’s lap and begin pulling books from a bookshelf. Carol paid her no mind, as long as she was quiet and safe, that was all that mattered. When she turned back to Daryl, he was regarding her with a wary expression.

“You took a bullet for her.” She stated directly. He could always rely on Carol to tell it like it was, no matter how much he didn’t want to hear it sometimes.

“Yeah n’ I’d do it again tomorrow.” Was his equally as clear response.

Carol slowly sat back and half smiled at him. Such a quick confession had come straight from his heart and it only proved what she’d thought all along and she wasn’t about to let it slide this time.

“Are you going to admit that you have feelings for her now?” She wanted to know.

She heard a low growl in his throat as he turned his head away and thudded it back on the pillow. She watched over him, noting the chewing of his lower lip and his shallow breathing. She knew that if she just waited, he would gift her with some kind of answer eventually.

“I don’t know what I feel.” He muttered as he turned back to her “This ain’t never happened to me before.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Judith once more before dragging her chair closer to him, leveling herself with his shoulder.

“Tell me” She coaxed.

Again, Daryl inflicted upon her a long and uncomfortable pause. Highly anxious about being asked such things, he wanted to get up and leave the room, but it was impossible and there was no escape. Accepting his fate, he resigned himself to his only option; surrender.

“She makes me crazy. When she looks at me I just-I ain’t me. I say stuff I would never say to nobody.”

“Like what?”

He shook his head and grumbled under his breath that he didn’t want to talk about it but Carol was not giving up that easily.

“Daryl, just tell me.” She ordered.

“After the party…” He bit his lower lip and sighed, the conflict raging in his mind. He needed another perspective, but at the same time was mortified and confused by the whole thing and felt it best to keep everything to himself. “…ugh, it don’t matter.”

“It does. Once you get this out and talk about it, you’ll feel better. I promise and I’ll never breathe a word to anybody. After everything we’ve been through, you know you can trust me”

Daryl had grown up not needing anyone for anything. He relied on no one but himself and where affairs of the heart were concerned, such rare occurrences were also dealt with alone or not dealt with at all. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he could have used some advice, or at least a listening ear that would take whatever he told her to the grave. She wouldn’t judge and wouldn’t poke fun at him, she wouldn’t get mad or laugh or make him feel like he should know better. It was Carol, his trusted friend and it was about time, after so much trauma that he afforded her the credit she deserved.

“Flirted with her” He mumbled under his breath.

“Well, this is new” she beamed “What did you say?”

“I ain’t tellin’ you that.” He scoffed. Full disclosure was not on the cards and some details needed to remain under wraps.

“Okay. Alright. That’s…that’s good, Daryl.”

“You’re just lovin’ this ain’t ya?” He mumbled.

“Little bit. Not going to lie.” she chuckled “How did she take it?”

“Good. I think. Dunno what got into me. I just kept thinkin’ ‘bout how she liked me before. Y’know, at the quarry? N’ sometimes, when we’re alone she gets all flustered n’ shit. Thought it was my imagination but I don’t think it is. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Ain’t got a clue what I’m lookin’ for here.”

With a wider knowledge of hunting than women, Daryl was in uncharted territory. Dangerous waters that could spell the end of his friendship with Jess if it all went wrong. Like he was walking a tightrope, he had been struggling to find the exact, right words to say to her in case it all blew up and he lost her once more. His desire to dip a toe into the minefield of flirting was most definitely a risky one and he wasn’t even sure if his effort had paid off or if they would simply move forward with no mention of it ever again.

“A lot can happen in the months you were apart. But if you want my opinion, she didn’t want you to know who she was when we first got here because she still felt the same about you. You know what she put up with at the quarry and you weren’t in a position to acknowledge that you actually felt something for her. You couldn’t make it OK for her. She didn’t want to feel like she was being rejected again.” Carol explained. She always had a way of clearing things up and adding clarity to what would usually be jumbled up and frustrated thoughts in his head. Moreover, she was right, Jess had put up with a lot at the quarry and he wasn’t able to be there for her like he should have been. Her hidden identity was a defense mechanism. But did it really mean that she still felt something for him?

“I never meant to do that to her. I’d never hurt her.” He said. “The mornin’ we left for the run, she uh, she wanted to know why I flirted with her... straight up. I wasn’t expectin’ that. Asked me if I was drunk or, if it was the dress she was wearin’. Had no idea how I was s’posed to answer.”

Carol’s face had softened to a small smile that she was holding back a little. Her heart swelled with excitement and happiness for him. She’d wanted this for him for a long time after seeing how much of himself he’d given to keeping the rest of the group safe.

“Was it the dress?” she smirked

“No.”

“She did look good in it.” She pressed.

“Stop it.” He dismissed. She smirked at him again and nudged his arm

“Fine. Wasn’t just the dress.” He admitted. The dress had some sway, he had to admit that much. But the main push he needed to adopt a more flirtatious tone was her blushing around him, her reaction to his compliments and the same, niggling idea that she still liked him as more than a friend.

“Ha. I knew it.” She grinned. “So, what did you tell her?”

“Just that I was sober n’ it wasn’t the dress.”

“I see. Then I think that’s all you needed to say.” She surmised “This is great, Daryl. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy.”

“Don’t get all excited, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen.”

Judith, having covered the floor in books and deciding that none of them quite matched up to the wonders of the book about the dog that Uncle Daryl read to her, was now hanging around Carol’s legs and trying to climb back up onto her lap. She reached down and scooped up the child, who nestled into the crook of her arm and yawned.

“Are you happy?” Carol asked in a serious tone.

It was nowhere near the linear question that it presented itself as and as far back as he could remember, Daryl wasn’t sure if he could ever pinpoint a time when he was truly happy or if he even knew what happiness was. But Jess stirred something in him and he had a burning desire to be near her. When she smiled, he smiled. Her laugh was addictive and her sense of humor gelled well with his own. He liked how she was her own person and had become independent while still retaining the vulnerability that made him want to protect her. Was he completely happy? He couldn’t say. But there was one thing he was sure of.

“M’happy when I’m with her.”

 ~ ~ ~ 

Aaron was talking himself hoarse as Jess darted around his spare room, collecting clothes and ignoring his pleas for her to just stop and get some decent sleep. He promised to wake her, to go and get an update to be relayed upon her waking up and even offered to go to the fairground and get more of her clothes. But all of his kind offers were declined. As soon as Jess stepped foot on the grass verge outside the infirmary, she just wanted to turn back and return to her bedside vigil.

Racing down the stairs, Jess flung her backpack over her shoulder and reached out for the door handle. Aaron positioned himself in between her and her escape route, defiant and bordering on angry. He tugged the bag from her shoulder and dropped it by the door before placing his hands on her weary shoulders and steering her towards the kitchen. Jess didn’t have the energy to put up any kind of a fight and simply let Aaron guide her into another room, where there was spaghetti on the stove and the smell wafted through the room, tempting her stomach into a loud rumble.

Given the information that Eric was on Guard duty and Aaron would be alone for most of the night, Jess halfheartedly sank down onto a dining chair and pushed her food around the plate while re-visiting the events of the past few hours from the beginning in order to answer some of Aaron’s questions. When, on the timeline of events, she reached the real reason why she was so physically drained, she explained that she had been the one to donate blood to replace what Daryl had lost. Aaron expressed that it was a noble and selfless thing to do and that when she did decide to tell Daryl, he was sure he would be eternally grateful. Then. She fell silent and took a sip of her red wine.

“Jess?”

“Mm?” She hummed into her glass before she looked across the table at the kind man she now thought of as her friend.

“You’re supposed to eat that” He remarked with a nudge of his head towards her uneaten food. The steam it emitted when it was first placed on the table was now gone and Aaron was sure Jess was sitting in front of a stone cold plate of pasta.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking…what if? Y’know?” She mused.

Aaron thudded his cutlery onto the wooden table and leaned forwards with his arms braced either side of his pasta bowl. From across the table, Jess peered at him sadly.

“Listen to me, ‘what if’ will drive you insane. ‘what if’ does not matter.” He said firmly “What matters is that he’s inside the walls, under the care of a doctor and he’s going to be fine.”

His words made perfect sense but the battle of wills between emotion and logic was a tricky one, especially when she was so tired her bones were weary and her thoughts were jumbled, like a hundred people all talking at once.

“He could have died. Because of me.” She whispered.

“Stop this!” Aaron cried, slamming a hand on the table and making her flinch with the noise. “Please, Jess. I don’t like seeing you like this. You are exhausted.”

“I just want to be with him.” He heard her say under her breath.

Rising to his feet, he rounded the table and dragged out the chair next to her. He settled sideways to enable him to see her face clearly and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Okay. Um, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to think about it before you answer me because it’s important.” He warned, noticing her side glance nervously at him.

“Okay.” She croaked.

“Are you in love with him?”

Jess began to reply without thinking, ignoring Aarons request and diving straight into her default response.

“Huh. No” She scoffed “I mean…I care about him. Sure. I think about him a lot so I’m going to care, right? Do I have loving feelings for him...? Yeah. I suppose I do. Do I love him?” She stared at the top of her wine glass where her finger was poised. Aaron could almost see the cogs turning in her head. She took her hand away from the glass and covered her mouth with it. “Oh my god” She breathed from behind it as her eyes lift to Aaron’s face. She gradually lowered her hand and it juddered in the air as she connected the dots.

“I-I’m in love with Daryl.” She uttered.

“I know, Jess. I know.” Aaron sighed. 

 ~ ~ ~

Denise was as firm a doctor as she could be, having worked as a psychiatrist with many varied and difficult clients, she was well versed in the art of saying no and sticking to it. For three hours she had kept up her strong stance and maintained that if Daryl was to remain infection-free and on the mend, he must stay within the walls of the infirmary, where medications and equipment were at hand and she was a knock on a door away should she be needed.

But Daryl was intolerable when he had a bee in his bonnet and argued relentlessly until Denise could take no more and almost told Jess that she would pay her in shampoo and conditioner to take him away so she could get some peace. Finally getting his own way, Daryl accepted that he had to have twice daily check ins from the doctor and start physiotherapy as soon as his wound was properly healed. He was also told that he would need to agree to help from other people and that refraining from putting any pressure on his leg for two weeks would mean he needed constant help to move around.

 It was late, the streets were dark and the night guard shift had commenced. Across the still and silent streets, Rick and Jess wheeled Daryl across the road on his infirmary bed and halted on the other side. Jess handed him some crutches and when Denise hovered nearby and asked if he needed a tutorial, he waved her off in annoyance and demanded that he could do it without any help. Jess was glad he’d been re-dosed with pain meds half an hour before, because the thought of the agony that came with him shuffling from the wheeled bed and onto the crutches with only one working leg made her wince.

It took him a while, but with grit and determination, a few choice swear words at everyone present who tried to encourage him and a lucky amount of upper body strength, Daryl successfully managed to get himself into the house and up the stairs. Halfway up the staircase, he tossed the crutches to the top and used his arms to hoist himself the rest of the way up, under the watchful eyes of Rick and Michonne. Jess, who was in the kitchen with Denise, decided she couldn’t watch anymore no matter how much shameless gawking she could do at his arms. Instead, she opted to be the one to go through Daryl’s recovery plan and medications with Denise and Carol.

Jess’s attention was soon caught by Michonne who descended the stairs and sighed loudly, shaking her head and vanishing into the living room. She was closely followed by Rick, who wandered into the kitchen and swapped places with Carol after she announced she was going to take his meds to him and make sure there was nothing in his room that he could trip over. Denise wished everyone luck, knowing they’d need it if the last three hours she’d endured was anything to go by, and abruptly left the house.

Rick perched on a stool at the kitchen island across from Jess while she squinted at the label on a bottle of wine, tempted to neck the entire thing even though she wasn't much of a drinker.

“He should have stayed where Denise could keep an eye on him.” He said wearily. “He’s such a pain in the a-”

“Oh, believe me, I am not expecting an easy time. Denise warned me that all he does is complain.” Jess conveyed, pushing her lips into a thin line. “If it’s OK with you, I was going to stay the night, so I’m here if he needs anything.”

Rick picked up a jug of orange juice from the space between them and poured himself a glass, downing the whole thing as Jess watched on, sliding the wine bottle back onto the counter and pushing it away. 

“Of course, you can stay, but you don’t have to. We can handle him between us” He told her.

“I know. I want to.” She stated plainly.

He placed his glass on the counter top and studied her face. He still wore his gun holster at his waist and his brown, curled hair hung loosely over his forehead.

“This wasn’t your fault, Jess.” He assured her.

“It’s not about that” She shook her head before reaching over to the orange juice. Rick suddenly remembered his manners and poured her a glass of her own, pushing it across the marble to her. “I know he’s a miserable bastard right now, but I care about him.”

“Alright. Just don’t expect him to like the idea.” He smiled.

“I can handle Mr. Grumpy.” She chuckled.

“Yeah, you can probably deal with him better than I can,” he remarked, getting up and passing her. He paused to squeeze her shoulder “Are you ok? After what happened?”

“Mmhmm. Was pretty scary but it could have been a lot worse.” She mused.

“You did good, Jess. What you had to do, that was tough. We uh, we won’t talk about how you made the guy suffer first” he mentioned with a light pat on her shoulder.

Jess grinned and giggled slightly, feeling a hint of guilt for finding such a comment to be amusing considering it was referring to the man she’d murdered. “Thanks, sheriff.”

“I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow. Unless you’re um, going to sleep next to Daryl?” He asked tentatively.

“I’ll take some blankets. Thanks” She replied, opting for the less awkward option and telling herself that even though it was quite apparent that Rick had an idea there may be something more to her friendship with Daryl, she wasn’t about to encourage addressing the elephant in the room.

 =-=-=-=-=-=

Climbing the stairs of the house which was commonly known across the town as the ‘Grimes Home’ due to it being occupied by the three remaining members of the Grimes family, Jess waddled from side to side, balancing precariously on each, shiny step with her arms full of blankets and pillows. Picture frames adorned the walls depicting a family that were no more, ghosts of a time that once was, before the turn and before the house became a haven for a new family. Jess watched their happy faces fade past her as she climbed the stairs, hoping that one day, someone would replace the photos with happy pictures of Judith and Carl.

Unsurprisingly, Daryl’s room was at the end of the hall, away from everyone else’s and when she reached the closed door she didn’t even bother to knock. It wasn’t like he’d be anywhere else but laid up on the bed with scowl on his face anyway. Bustling through the door and getting blankets caught around the handle, Jess quietly cursed to herself and entered the room, dropping her haul onto the end of the bed as lightly as she could.

It was a typical suburban teenagers’ room. The bookshelf was still stocked and the walls boasted the remnants of band posters. Daryl had done little to make the place his own, his crossbow rested on the dresser and his vest was thrown across the back of a chair. On the top of a chest of drawers was evidence of bolt carving and partially made fishing floats. Feathers, pieces of wood and tools littered the surface. These were the only elements in the room that told her that he lived there now.

“What are ya doin? What’s this?” Daryl’s voice startled her; she had expected him to be sleeping due to the number of painkillers he was on. But there he was, sitting up with the covers drawn up to his waist. He was wearing a black vest and his hair was tousled, as if he’d tried to sleep but had given up. He was scowling at her.

“Ugh, lord.” Jess scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “I hoped you’d be asleep so I could avoid all your whining.”

“I don’t sleep much. What’s goin’ on?” He enquired.

Accepting that she may well have a fight on her hands, Jess grabbed a pillow from the top of the pile and clutched it in both hands.

“I brought you an extra pillow and I’m staying with you tonight.” She told him, throwing the pillow at him. He battled it away before it hit him and he collected it from the mattress at his side, tucking it behind his shoulders and settling back against it.

“No. No ya ain’t.” He said firmly while pointing at her. 

“You don’t have a say in this so don’t waste your breath.” Jess warned while the unfolded the blankets and began laying them on the floor next to the bed. Daryl’s hands rose before falling back to the bed in frustration.

“I’m fine, Jess!” He exclaimed. Jess whirled around with fire in her eyes.

“Daryl. Shut up!” she commanded “I’ll sleep on the floor in case you need anything”

“Don’t talk shit. Go home. I’ll be fine. Don’t exactly live alone” He continued.

Jess’s temper was beginning to rise but she bit her tongue and tried to remain composed and in control. He was so determined to be as independent as possible, that he would only end up doing himself more harm than good. Jess was aware of Daryl’s need to refrain from asking for or accepting any help, but this was an argument he was not going to win.

“Give it up. I’m staying.” She shrugged before sinking to the floor beside the bed and fluffing her pillow. "If you want me to leave, then you're going to have to kick me out yourself...and you can't do that right now."

It wasn’t that Daryl didn’t want her company. Under normal circumstances, he would have found a reason to be near her, to go on a run with her, to swing by Aaron and Eric’s in case she was there or he would deliberately cross over into her hunting territory. But having her see him incapacitated was not something he liked the idea of. Nevertheless, she had made it crystal clear that she was going nowhere and no matter how many irate sighs that escaped him or how many times she glowered at her, she was staying put.

“Fine. Stubborn ass woman.” He muttered.

She scanned the books on the shelf beside her, most of them teenage romance novels left from the previous occupants. It would do as something to pass the time and harked back to the many romance books she used to read as a teenager herself. In fact, whoever used the room before Daryl didn’t have such terrible taste in literature at all.

She selected a title referring to some kind of predictable and inevitable unity between a bad boy and a plain girl and figured it would make for some easy night-time reading. She didn’t know what time it was, just that it was late. The muffled footsteps of the rest of the house were padding about beyond the door on their way to bed and her body was almost as weary as it had been in the first few days of her setting out alone from the quarry.

Her eyes grazed over the first few words and her mind wandered. She was being watched and she could sense it without even looking up from the page. It was as plain as day that her temporary room mate was studying her from his spot up on the bed. She detected a small sigh, laced with the quietest of conflicted, raspy growls.

“Get up here” She heard him say.

“What?” She queried with both eyebrows raised innocently. Having no plans to move, and no intention of sleeping anywhere near him, confusion swept across her face and she slowly turned her head to see him peering at her with a mildly annoyed expression.

“If ya gonna stay at least sleep on a bed. There’s enough room for the both of us. Get up here” He ordered.

Jess hesitated. This was a new level of boundary pushing and one she wasn’t sure she was comfortable with. It would mean mere inches of space between them and a palpable silence for hours throughout the night during which time she was very likely to just lay there, mulling over the same thought.

I’m sharing a bed with Daryl.

“Are you sure? That’s not weird for you?” She asked.

“No. It ain’t. I’ma change my damn mind if ya keep askin’ questions” he complained.

The more she considered it, the more enticing the idea was. After all, it was a good opportunity to indulge a little in secret and after everything they’d been through, her having murdered someone and offering up her blood to aid Daryl’s recovery, she figured she’d earned it. As long as it wasn’t so strange that her insecurities and naturally awkward nature around a person so attractive forced her to ruin everything.

“OK, OK.” She agreed, attempting to sound as though it was more a chore than anything else. She got to her feet, kicked off her boots and lay back on top of the covers, dragging a blanket from the floor across her legs. Opening her book, she started to read from the first word again but her concentration was nowhere to be found. Her eyes looked over the words but nothing sank in. Before long, she sensed the familiar feeling of being watched, once more.

Daryl hated the idea of her putting herself out for him. Her staying with him was bad enough and if he was going to be forced to endure her seeing him in such a state, he just wanted her to feel restful and secure and as she read by his side, she undoubtedly was not either of those things. He rubbed at his face with one hand, wondering how he should proceed with coaxing her to relax a little more. Then, he noticed the pimpled texture of her skin. Goosepimples, she was cold.

“You’re cold, just get under the covers.” He suggested.

A rush of apprehension and nervousness settled in Jess’s stomach and for a moment, she thought that whatever the story line in her book depicted, her real-life situation was unraveling at an alarmingly more rapid rate.

Pity this doesn’t end like the book does.

“I’m fine, really.” She assured him with a small smile. But he refused to stop glaring at her and she wondered why. She was sure that she would have given just about anything to be able to hear his thoughts at that precise moment.

“Ya know I ain’t gonna touch ya or nothin’, right?” He expressed.

Jess dropped the book in her lap and gawped at him, her expression shocked and saddened. Why would he ever think that such a thing would cross her mind? There were plenty of people she could have expected such behavior from but Daryl was the safest and most protective person she could have been with in that moment and the fact that he’d even pondered something so ridiculous deeply concerned her.

“Why would you even say that?” She questioned at the same time as turning her body and laying on her side, now facing him completely to show that she was not afraid to address the huge issue he’d just brought up.

“Guess I don’t want ya to think I’m like that.” He reasoned. “I aint no asshole. Would never touch ya. Unless ya… wanted me to or somethin’. I dunno. Shit. Just-just forget I said anythin’.”

Good job, jackass. He thought. Stop fuckin’ talkin’.

Jess’s face dropped and her eyebrows knitted together in sympathy. It wasn’t something she could honestly say had ever crossed her mind. Not even once. She didn’t need to be told he wasn’t a creep, or entitled, or disrespectful towards her in the slightest. She just knew. The one thing that stunned her even more than the notion that he would ever touch her in that way, was the mention that he quite possibly would if she wanted him to. She had no idea what to make of such a statement and her hands began to fidget at the tricky subject matter. Was this true? There was the distinct possibility that the painkillers were playing a part in his loose tongue and she dared to hope that it was fueled by anything more than that.

“OK” She started with a deep breath “Listen to me.” As she spoke, she braved holding eye contact with him. The importance of her answer meant he had to know she was sincere. “I would never, ever think that of you. I feel safer with you than I do with anybody else. Of course, I know that you would never do that to me. I’m actually kinda sad that you felt the need to tell me that.”

Daryl was nibbling on his thumb, hiding his true expression behind his hand and searching his brain for a response that wouldn’t make the situation worse. He dropped his hand and looked down into his lap.

“Ain’t much trust associated with bein’ a Dixon.” He mentioned. “I never had a friend like you neither. ‘Specially female. They just tend to assume shit about guys like me.”

“Oh my god.” Jess groaned, sliding onto her back and down the bed until her head was on the pillow and her hands were covering her face. “You are breaking my heart here. Stop it!” She cried. Taking her hands away, she noted his nervous demeanor and wondered where the hell this was all coming from. It was highly unusual for Daryl to talk about something so personal, let alone be the one to bring it up. Sitting up again, she ran a hand through her hair and blew the loose side strands up into the air with an exhalation.

“I trust you. You believe me when I say that, don’t you?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then I don’t ever want you to bring this up again.”

“K” he grunted. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She scoffed. Quiet fell around them with neither one knowing how to change the atmosphere to a more tolerable one. Jess thought humor may well have been the only way and so, opened her mouth without thinking.

“At least I know you would if I wanted you to. Lucky me.”

Daryl, who wasn’t expecting to have to deal directly with his revealing and potentially dangerous comment, did something he didn’t normally do. He panicked.

“I didn’t mean that I-well, well I did. I-I just-If ya wanted…Y’know what? Never mind.”

“Yeah, never mind” She echoed stiffly.

“It’s the Oxy. I don’t really know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout here. My head’s fucked.” He lied.

“It’s fine. Let’s just brush that one under the rug.” She offered, much to his relief at the escalating horror rising in his chest. As he quelled the uneasiness and irritation at himself, he noticed Jess wriggle under the top cover, leaving the barrier of a sheet between them. A decent compromise, he concluded.

She lay on her side again, this time with her book on the bed between them. Her fingers pulled up the pages, fanning the edges over and over and creating a light flickering sound.

“There is something I wanted to say to you” She murmured. “While we’re sharing.”

“What’s that?” He inquired, worried that he would be faced with yet another conversation that was going to make him squirm.

Jess’s eyes crept along his bare arm, lit by the flickering glow of two lanterns either side of the bed. He was inches from her face and she resisted the temptation to trace her fingertips along his skin, down over his bicep to his forearm. The thought almost made her drool and she turned her attention back to what she wanted to say.

“I’m glad you saved me and all. Thank you for that. But it’s time someone told you that you need to take care of you.” She said.

Daryl hesitated, taking in her words and trying to remember a time when there was ever anyone that openly cared as much about him as Jess did. He couldn’t think of anything, because there wasn’t one. No one had ever cared like she did and the feeling was unfamiliar and strange.

“I’m fine, Jess.” He mumbled.

She pulled herself further up, forcing him to turn his head and look her in the eye.

“No, you’re not. You have a gunshot wound that could have been a lot worse and furthermore, if you don’t take care of you, think of all the people around here that need you and won’t have you. Like Judith and Carl and…and me.” She explained.

The corner of his mouth curled up and she was surprised to find him smirking at her.

“Did you just say ‘furthermore’?” He questioned in amusement. "The fuck is that?"

“Forget it. Get yourself killed. See if I care.” She bit back. Dismayed by him making a joke of what was supposed to be a genuine plea for him to at least try and place some value on his own life.

“Alright. Sorry. I get it...” He backtracked after sensing her downtrodden reaction. “…I do. But I’d still take another bullet for you tomorrow.”

It was a declaration that Jess never anticipated to get from anyone, let alone the man she had fallen for. The insistence that he would indeed put himself in death's grasp to ensure her safety. Never before had she met someone so selfless and courageous and while she was touched and inwardly emotional at the thought, on the outside she sighed with exasperation and closed her eyes briefly.

“Daryyyyl” She groaned.

She opened her eyes when she felt him touch her hand. He covered her fingers with his own to garner attention and once he had it, he quickly moved away. Peering down at her and holding her gaze, he wanted her to see it from his perspective.

“Look me in the eye n’ tell you wouldn’t do the same.” He challenged.

It was an intense moment, charged with so many unsaid things that Daryl swallowed hard and pondered over what else he could say and blame on the Oxy. But without the knowledge that she would undeniably feel the same way about him, he was not going to risk losing what he deemed to be a rare and precious connection that he never thought he would be lucky enough to have.

“Only for you.” She whispered.

Because I love you.

Then, he knew she understood his motives and reasons for doing what he did. She cared just as much as he did but it didn’t mean he would ever let her take bullets for him or even experience so much as a scratch. To him, she was a person so valuable that the prospect of losing her didn’t bare thinking about.

“Think we have an understandin’.” He concluded.

“No. I don’t like this. I don’t want to not have you around” She argued.

“Good thing you’re hangin’ round here like a bad smell then, aint it?” He commented, trying to lighten the mood by poking fun at her.

Jess could only offer up a forced huff of amusement as she looked over at his nightstand which was now home to a pile of wound dressings. There it was again. The ‘what if’ train of thought that Aaron warned her would drive her crazy. What if he’d been killed? What if she had to carry on without him?

“Jess, I ain’t goin nowhere.” He said seriously. She looked up at him and he realized that her eyes were bloodshot. A single tear raced down her cheek and she sniffed and tried to force it away. He reached out and wiped the dampness away from under her eye with his thumb. Her cheek tingled and she very nearly said it. It was on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be freed. The six little words that would change everything. But her heart on her sleeve would only destroy it all. 

I am in love with you.

“You’re tired. Go to sleep.” He cooed at her.

She nodded and snuggled down next to him. It was all she could do to hide her desire to just kiss him and explain it away afterwards. In the light of the lantern on the nightstand, he focused on her hand by his side and licked his lips as he toyed with the idea of holding it. He wondered what her reaction would be and decided to brave it, lacing his fingers with hers. She didn’t pull away and gently gripped onto him instead. After a few minutes, he thought her to be drifting off to sleep, but what he couldn’t see was that she was staring at her hand intertwined with his, a small smile on her face and a feeling of some kind of subtle triumph in her heart.

=-=-=-=-=

It was the birds that woke her. A sound she didn’t hear as much now the world was decaying. She didn’t know if it was food being scarce or migration, but there were fewer birds around than usual and so, their melodic chirping from the roof of the house was a pleasant and relaxing way to wake from what had been a deep slumber. Her eyes were heavy and her limbs felt like they were made from cement as her body slowly woke up. A soft, cushioned surface under her cheek warmed the side of her face and she snuggled against it, emitting a contented sigh.

It was a first for Daryl. He peered down at the sleepy form of Jess, nuzzled against his bare arm with a hand draped over his wrist and thought that he could maybe get used to it. Waking up next to a pretty girl sleeping on him was certainly a nicer way to start the day, if only his leg wasn’t screaming with pain. He inhaled slowly, forcing his mind away from the agony and focusing instead on Jess and her dark eyelashes and the subtle pink of her lips.

Jess wasn’t sure if she’d ever moved as fast in her entire life than she did when she opened her eyes and realized she’d been sleeping nestled onto Daryl’s arm. On the one hand, she was truly horrified and on the other, slightly smug that she’d managed to cop a feel, albeit unintentionally. She sprang up, blinked rapidly and crawled away from him, bringing her legs up and sitting back against the headboard.

“Oh, Uh. I’m sorry. I don't know how I ended up…there.” She stammered upon noticing he was awake.

“S’alright. Mornin’.” He greeted, aware of her discomfort and watching her run her hands through her hair and adjust her T-shirt. She glanced down at his arm where a fading, pink mark had occurred from her using him as a pillow.

“Did I, did I drool?” She asked.

“Nah. Ya snore though.” He said casually, biting his lower lip and stifling a grin.

“I do?! Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I-” She rambled.

“-I’m kidding.” He interrupted with a snort of laughter.

“Oh.” Was her grunted reply while she felt the panic in her chest begin to disappear.

Daryl lifted a hand and gently smoothed a thumb over the damp skin below her bottom lip, seeing her freeze and her eyes widen.

That’s the second time he’s touched me like that.

“Ya did drool. A little” he told her.

“Oh god” She groaned covering her rapidly reddening face with her hands. She could hear his gruff chuckle from beside her and hazarded lowering her hands. She was met with a wide grin, one that she would happily look at for the rest of her days. Something happened to him when he smiled. Maybe it was because it was rare and that it was only really her that he gifted with such a sight, but she thought that in those quick moments he looked genuinely happy and she could only hope that she was even a part of the reason why.

“Stop laughing.” She complained, playfully slapping at his hand. “Jerk.”

 =-=-=-=-=

The ten days after Daryl gaining a hole in his leg and the feeling of being imprisoned behind the walls of Alexandria, his relationship with Jess remained the one thing that provided him with some means of escapism. Her kindness and devotion to his recovery only built up his feelings for her to a powerful level and he had become more sure than ever that if he ever got a sign that she saw him the same way, beyond any reasonable doubt, he would take the opportunity to act on his feelings. 

But all he could do was hope and admire her while she ignored his requests for her to take some time out and look after herself. She brought him food, administered his meds and helped him to and from the bathroom when Carol and Carl were not around. Jess’s absence during the mornings was noticed by Deanna, who quickly tasked Michonne with security cover and compiled a hunting team from the other residents to ensure that food didn’t become an issue. Rick was determined to find the rest of the group that Daryl’s assailant was from and along with Glenn and a couple of the others, had been away for days, scouring the woods and abandoned buildings for anything that would lead them to discovering how much risk such a group posed.

For four nights Jess slept by Daryl’s side, careful not to end up drooling on his arm again. Her days were spent playing cards with him and discussing a wide range of topics, some of which Daryl wasn’t even aware he had an opinion on. But Jess had a knack for that; revealing things about him that he would never have previously discovered himself. It took some adjusting to let her take care of him, but she brought the best out in him and despite his sometimes low and snappy mood at being trapped in the house, he was never rude or ungrateful to her.

Denise checked in regularly and gave Daryl the all clear for any infections in his gunshot wound. Her next step was to enlist everyone to persuade him that he needed to take it easy and practice some physiotherapy to aid his recovery. Believing that he just needed to be allowed outside to carry on doing what he always did, Daryl did nothing but complain about being useless sitting around all day.

When Jess was sleeping or out of the house for some reason, Carol tried her best to ease him into the idea of doing just a few of the exercises in the book that Denise had left him. Every time, she was met with a gruff dismissal, usually coupled with a cuss laden mumbling about how it wasn’t going to work anyway.

One evening, when Jess had finished up a meal kindly cooked for her by Aaron and Eric, who were consistent in offering her their spare room, use of the shower and many meals since Daryl had been shot, she arrived at the Grimes home to find a grumpy looking Daryl perched on the edge of his bed wearing black sweatpants and a sleeveless, black button down on which he’d neglected to fasten the top two buttons. Jess rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she thought he could hear the thoughts that traveled through her head and liked to play on the fact that she couldn’t look at him without going weak at the knees.

“Carol said you refused to do your physio.” She said, dropping her bag in the corner of the room and sliding a physiotherapy book from the dresser. “Your leg will seize up if you don’t and you’ll be hopping around like a cripple for a hell of a lot longer than you would if you’d just humor us and do as your fucking told.”

It was a new thing he’d discovered about her. She didn’t suffer fools and quickly became stern with him if he dared to argue with her about anything to do with his recovery. He could tell she genuinely cared and as a result, she would shoot him down and put him in his place without so much as a blink. He couldn’t deny that a part of him liked her pushy nature when she was tested and he would have gone as far as to say he’d met his match.

“Fine” He grumbled. “But this ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

She moved closer to him, offering him her arm to help him stand. He accepted it and she eased him to his feet. He was able to apply a certain amount of weight on his injured leg which was a good start and Jess was sure that the more he complied and just listened to Denise’s advice, the quicker he would be back to his normal self.

“It will, that’s what it says in the book.” She countered.

“Fuck the book.” He snapped.

“For god sakes, Daryl! Stop acting like a damn kid and just do it!” She cried, tugging on his arm and guiding him over to the wall. He hobbled along beside her and risked a couple of glances at her face. Her jaw was pulled tight in annoyance and he knew that she was likely to get pretty mad at him if he didn’t give in.

Allowing her to help him balance on his good leg and hold onto the wall, she talked him through quadriceps stretches as per the instructions in the book and stood close by, with her hands hovering around him in case he lost his footing while he put it into practice.

“OK, good. That’s good. A little higher. Great.” She encouraged.

Obviously in pain, he grit his teeth and Jess could see sweat emerging on his forehead. Once he’d completed one exercise, she helped him through the rest, sometimes having to take his weight or help him to the floor and up again. He very reluctantly accepted her aid and tried to ignore the warmth of her body against his and had no idea that she was thinking the exact same thing. She counted him through each movement and when she tried to let go of his hand once he was sitting safely back on the bed. He held onto her and stared at her.

“Ya ain’t gotta do this with me.” He said.

Jess sank down onto the bed beside him, squeezed his hand slightly and let go.

“I knew you’d start this at some point. I’m not going anywhere. I know you, you won’t do your physiotherapy otherwise” She explained.

“Look, just get Carol to rat me out if I don’t. You don’t need to be here everyday” He told her.

Her heart fluttered with a flicker of sadness. She shoved away the notion that he was sick of the sight of her away and told herself that she was assuming the worst without having the facts. She smiled slightly and held his gaze. Despite his injury, she liked seeing him in this environment. In his room, in his sweatpants and not covered in dirt and toting a crossbow for a change. Not many people got to see him like that and she was grateful that he trusted her enough to let her be there for him.

“Do you want me to leave?” She asked.

“Naw. Not at all. Just don’t want ya wastin’ ya time stuck here with me every day” He expressed.

Glad that she’d not reacted too hastily, Jess nodded and brushed a few strands of hair from in front of his eye. She liked his eyes and being able to see them had revealed a lot more about him over the course of the two weeks she’d been spending so much time with him. More than anything, she’d learned that he said so much with his eyes without having to actually say any words at all.

“Time enjoyed is not time wasted.” She smiled.

“Enjoyed? Tryin’ to tell me you enjoy this? I wasn’t born yesterday, Jess.” He protested.

“I enjoy your company, you grouchy bastard” She replied, leaning towards him and nudging his shoulder with hers.

He gave her a thoughtful smile, his eyes scanning her features until she retrieved a small towel from the bed behind him and wiped his sweaty brow for him. He briefly closed his eyes and simply enjoyed having her tend to him, thinking that if someone was to explain to him two years back that he would be so taken in by the pretty nerd he’d met in a quarry at the end of the world and for the first time would have feelings that went way beyond friendship, he would have laughed in their face.

“Thanks” he mumbled quietly.

“I’ll put it on the tab.” She commented.

“Tab?”

“Your ‘reasons I have to be nice to Jess’ tab.”

“C’mon, like I need reasons.” He admitted. He didn’t, being nice to her was as natural as breathing. She didn’t grate on him like most people did, she didn’t make him feel suffocated or cast out or like he just didn’t belong. When he was with her, he did belong and he was sure that she belonged right by his side too. If it was as a friend or anything more, he was going to leave it up to her. “This one of the things about you I didn’t know?”

She felt a spark of excitement when she put two and two together and realized that he was referring to the flirtatious exchange they’d had after the party. The exchange she still hadn’t managed to get any clear answers about. It wasn’t like it wasn’t on her mind. It niggled away every time she saw him. She’d struggled to find the right moment to ask and, in the end, had admitted defeat and opted to leave the whole thing alone.

“What does that mean?” She wanted to know.

“Nurse Jess” he smirked.

“Maybe. But I don’t just do this for anyone.” She conveyed. As a naturally caring person, Jess was known among the few people that made up her small tribe of friends, as the one that would bend over backwards to make sure the people that she loved were okay. Some tried to take advantage of her kindness and that was when her efforts could only be pushed so far before she cut them off altogether. It was true, she didn’t do it for just anyone and in their present situation, Daryl was one of very, very few people that she would happily give up her routine and solitary life for.

“Then I guess that makes me pretty honored” he said.

“C’mon, all you do is complain about ‘Nurse Jess’.” She reminded him, part of her message being in jest and the rest of it being the truth as she saw it.

“Nah, m’complainin’ bout the situation.” He corrected very deliberately.

“Oh, glad you clarified that.”

What preceded a long pause was another big risk from Daryl. He had no idea why he had the urge to toe the line of flirtatious exchanges. Maybe it was the way her cheeks flushed pink or the shy giggle she couldn’t help. Or, maybe it was the temptation to tell her how he felt and the idea that she could possibly feel the same. He had no idea, but he pressed ahead anyway, confident in the fact that he wasn’t being obvious enough that his comments couldn’t be explained in a more platonic way, should he need to.

“Not sure nurses are s’posed to sleep in their patient’s beds” He said out of nowhere.

Jess was busying herself folding the towel in her lap and she paused and stared down at the carpet when she heard his remark.

“Yeah? File a complaint.” She shrugged with one shoulder and the smallest, yet still detectable of smiles.

“Nah” He grunted “That’s one thing I ain’t gonna complain ‘bout.”

She glanced up at him hesitantly, finding the most gorgeous of suggestive smiles waiting for her and she was sure she was melting.

“Right.” she whispered. Then, there it was, that small giggle that he wanted to see. “Okay.”

I ain’t ever gonna get tired of that.

 =-=-=-=-=

A coldness on the side of her head was a much more unpleasant way to begin the day than with the singing of the birds beside Daryl in his bed. In her fairground home, she sat up and wiped a hand over the damp mass in her hair. Then, a single drop on her forehead made her jump and she craned her neck upwards, examining the ceiling and noticing a rotting and saturated mass of paintwork right above her. It was raining all night. Dragging herself out of bed, she dressed and checked her reflection in the mirror, something she now did every morning without fail. Her appearance was becoming more important to her since she’d grown a lot closer to Daryl and the odd glance in the mirror gave her the confidence to know that he wasn’t talking to a hot mess every day when she accompanied him on the morning hunt. It was a compromise they’d made with Deanna. Jess would chaperone Daryl on the hunt until his leg was fully healed and Daryl could get outside the walls and stop snapping at everyone like a tiger in a cage. Jess had also started wearing her hair down more often, knowing that Daryl could rarely resist the temptation to tenderly move it from her vision if it blew in the breeze and each time he did, it was like a fix from a drug that she was more than happy to submit to. It was the little things to her. The way he rolled his eyes when she called him ‘stinky’ and the way he huffed bashfully every single time she was feeling bold enough to call him ‘handsome’.

When she arrived in Alexandria, she headed straight for Deanna’s place and asked if she could have some roof tiles to fix the leak in her ceiling. Deanna immediately agreed and refused any kind of payment, telling jess in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t have such issues if she were to just move inside the walls. She was even offered the corner house which was unoccupied and big enough for at least six people to live there comfortably. Jess declined once again, expressing that she’d feel like a fart in an oil drum in that huge house and that the fairground was more comfortable.

Upon collection of her tiles from the garage that housed building materials and tools, Jess set off with a ladder under her arm and headed for the gate. The sky was threatening more rain, its heavy, gray cloud becoming more ominous by the second and the wind gaining momentum. She could detect the faint rumble of thunder in the distance. There was no doubt that she had to get the roof fixed before the whole thing collapsed and she had to move into the oil drum after all.

Daryl was ambling along the street smoking the last of a cigarette when she crossed his path without even noticing him.

“Hey” he called out “That don’t look like huntin’ stuff.”

She stopped walking as he neared her and looked down at her gloved hand and the two tiles she held.

“Oh, No. I have a hole in my roof. I just need to repair it and I’ll come back and we can go.” She explained.

Although he could walk, he was limited to certain distances and still displayed a limp, much to his annoyance. Denise explained that the damage to the muscle and tissue in his leg meant he would need time and patience to get it back to full working order with no pain. He was getting there, Jess knew that much, but the progress was nowhere near as quick as he wanted it to be.

“I’ll give ya a hand. Shouldn’t be goin’ up on the roof out there by yaself.” He decided, taking the tiles from her.

“You can’t go up a ladder.” She mentioned.

“Sure I can, I’ll be fine.”

“No, Daryl.” She said, snatching the tiles back from his grasp. “If you want to help you can hold it still and make sure I don’t break my neck in this wind.”

Not giving him time to quarrel with her about it, she surged on with Daryl in tow, thanking the gate guard and marching through the woods to her home.

  =-=-=-=-=

By the time Jess reached the roof of the diner. The wind was howling through the trees and lashing at her, sending drops of rain and leaves flying at her like she was in a wind tunnel. Her hands gripped onto the end of the ladder, turning her knuckles white while she solidified her balance on the top rung. From inside her coat, she tugged out a tile having kept the other one safely on the ground as a spare in case she discovered more holes in the roof.

She wobbled in the wind while leaning over and attempting to slide the tile into place. It was a perfect fit and Jess was glad of it. But the remnants of the previous tile meant the hole needed to be cleared of shards before the new one could be slotted into place. She worked as quickly as she could, throwing bits of broken tile onto the grass below.

“Just switch up with me, won’t take long.” Daryl called up to her.

“No!” She shouted back, over her shoulder.

“Shit, Jess. Were ya always this stubborn?” He asked.

“Pot calling the kettle back, stinky! Now, shut up and let me work!”

“Stinky. Bad books. Right.” He muttered to himself.

Finally able to fit the tile, she wiggled it into the square space, tapping the edge and feeling it secure just as a powerful gust of wind overpowered her at the top of the ladder and caused her to lose her footing. She grappled for the ladders handle and missed as the roof shot up in front of her and a searing pain engulfed the right side of her ribs. Before she could make any kind of noise, she’d accepted her fate. She was falling and was likely to be injured if the burning across her ribs was anything to go by. Towards the end of the ladder, her right leg looped through one of the gaps as Daryl managed to grab a hold of her before she hit the floor.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist, bunching up her jacket and thick, armored vest. It occurred to her that she still hadn’t hit the floor and that Daryl had caught her mid-air. He was humming instructions in her ear but none of them were registering as adrenaline thundered through her body. Her hands shook and her knees were trembling as he hoisted her up with all his might and told her to pull her leg out of the ladder. She didn’t hear him but managed to figure out what she needed to do regardless. Her leg dislodged easily and when her feet hit the floor, she almost buckled and ended up crumpled on the grass. If it wasn’t for Daryl, who had spun her around to face him but was still clinging to her waist while she caught her breath, she would have been face-down in the middle of the fairground.

“Y’alright?! Ya hurt?” He fretted, still keeping his hands where they were, on her bare skin under her top.

“No, just a-just a scrape I think.” She breathed.

“Where? Show me.” He demanded, looking down at her. It wasn’t until he tried to step back that it dawned on Jess that she was gripping his forearms like her life depended on it.

“M-my ribs, where I slipped. The handle, up there. It’s probably just bruised. It’s-it’s fine” she tried to break away from him, but he held on firmly.

“Naw, hold up. Ya tremblin’.” He told her.

For some reason, her mind went straight to his injury and she began to worry about the fact that he’d been standing on it for so long and had also had to endure holding her weight on it after catching her.

“But your-your leg.” She stammered.

“Doesn’t hurt. Can’t even feel it.” He lied “take a breath.” They locked eyes and his hands slowly moved down to her hips. Sensing she would scurry away like a frightened animal if he were to let go, he softened his voice and loosened his grip slightly. “Show me where ya hurt.”

“No. There’s no need.” She quickly answered.

The wind blew about her face and the chill it brought with it was beginning to bite. Her side was stinging, aggravated further by the cold. Daryl, who was wearing a leather biker jacket under his usual vest, had dressed for the weather, but Jess had failed to do so, believing that her regular clothing would suffice and not anticipating a storm to be rolling in.

“There is, coulda cracked a rib. Just let me feel for any breaks. I spent my childhood dealin’ with broken bones n’ I had a hell of a lot of fights in my time. I know what I’m lookin’ for.”

“I know you do. I just… don’t want to.” She confessed.

Then, the penny dropped and so did his hands. It was suddenly very clear why she was so averse to letting him check her for any injuries. She was nervous about showing him anything under her clothing. He watched her vision drop to the floor and nodded to himself. It all made sense now.

“Do you trust me, or not? Because one minute you’re sleepin’ in my bed n’ the next, ya won’t let me check ya to make sure ya aint hurt.” He stated

She looked up at him with big, pleading eyes, full of worry that she’d offended him and also that she’d have to explain what was going on in her head. That her insecurities didn’t just drop off with her weight loss. That she still didn’t like what she saw when she looked in the mirror. That she was deeply in love with him and didn’t want him to think her disgusting or ugly. But she did trust him and knew he cared.

“I do. I do trust you.” She assured him.

“Then let me take a look. It���s just me. S’alright.” he soothed

When the wind blew her hair across her face, he brushed it aside for her, taking a split second to ghost his thumb over her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat and it was then that she accepted that if she was going to trust anyone with this, it should be him.

She gingerly lifted the hem of her vest, drawing it up to just under her bra. He leaned down and she observed his eyes sweep over her skin, squinting slightly which indicated that there was, in fact, something to look at. Her eyes bulged when he went to place his fingers over her ribs and she jolted away. Closing her eyes and sighing.

“I’m sorry. Go ahead. I’m just not used to being touched.” She admitted.

“Yeah, me neither” he mumbled. “It won’t take a sec”

She nodded and felt her entire body tingle with electricity when he began to gently feel over her ribs, pressing at each one and frowning.

“Shit” he hissed, tracing his fingertips over the large red patch on her ribs. She flinched and held her breath. He applied light pressure along the mark “this hurt?”

“A little” she croaked.

“Your chest or back hurt?”

“No”

He placed his whole hand against her skin and her attempt not to react paid off. The warmth of his palm was a welcome relief from the cold that was licking at her skin from the wind. Daryl positioned his other hand on her shoulder

“Twist ya body, towards me. Breathe in” He instructed. She complied with complaint, having faith that he knew what he was looking for and from what she could tell so far, it certainly wasn’t his first brush with potentially broken ribs. The thought was a sad one when she thought about why a person would have such knowledge through experience alone.

“K. Now breathe out. Any pain?”

“Not much”

“It ain’t broken, gonna have a big bruise though.” He warned, dropping his hand from her shoulder but leaving his palm flush with her ribs, only unintentionally dropping it an inch or so. Her eyes nervously found his staring right back at her and he swallowed hard. She was showing him all kinds of firsts without having a clue about any of it. Having never felt anything for a female before, the intensity of the tension between them was stifling to him. Standing there with her, with his hand on her smooth skin and lost in the uneasy beauty of her eyes, for the first time, he wanted to kiss her more than anything. His gaze dropped to her lips and in the back of his mind he wished that his knowledge of how to deal with his feelings for the pretty nerd reached as far as his knowledge of broken ribs did. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He’d already told her he couldn’t lose her again and one kiss could ruin everything.

“Thank you.” She breathed, breaking the atmosphere and moving back. The contact was broken and Jess tugged her top down. “Is your leg OK?”

“Forgot all ‘bout it” he admitted. Her beautiful, soft skin had distracted him away from the discomfort and it wasn’t something he was likely to forget any time soon.

=-=-=-=-=

Two nights had passed since Jess had faced Daryl’s warm and not altogether uninviting touch. He was right about her rib; it wasn’t broken but it was bruised enough to render her as useless as a chocolate teapot for a couple of days, during which she spent time awkwardly trying to avoid having to discuss what had happened at the fairground with Daryl by avoiding him altogether and playing board games with Abraham while he drowned himself in whiskey on Aaron and Eric’s front porch.

Her avoidance of Daryl hadn’t gone unnoticed but far from being angered by it, he understood that whatever had transpired between them both was complicated and he needed time to process it. He couldn’t be sure that Jess felt the same, or if she even felt anything at all, but he’d been pushed to the brink of an act that was so out of character he felt like she was changing every part of him without even trying.

But being away from her wasn’t an option for too long and eventually, he found himself wandering the town in the dark on the way to Aaron and Eric’s, the now mild pain in his leg humming just enough for him to notice, but being more of an irritation than anything else. As he rounded the corner from the main street, Abraham breezed past him in a cloud of alcohol and slapped him on the back, bidding him a good night in a slurred sentence that was barely comprehensible.

Jess was swaying on the porch swing, reading the book she’d started in Daryl’s room the first night she stayed with him. He climbed the stairs and noted the two whiskey glasses and a bottle on the table. The rapid and unusual change in the weather from a storm to humidity and warmth past dark meant that Jess had taken off her camo pants and wore a pair of shorts and a tight tank top. For the first time, Daryl was able to see how much her body had changed and had to make a marked effort to drag his eyes away from her. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders.

Damn, girl. No wonder Abe spent the evening here.

Hearing his footsteps on the decking, she glanced up and closed her book. Daryl wasn’t the only one that had been mulling over the fairground incident at every given opportunity. What he didn’t know, was that she felt it too, only she had no idea what was going on in his head at the time. It was the closest she’d ever come to making a move on him but the physical contact with no barrier made things difficult and brought her insecurities to the surface. Guessing his stance on any of it was nigh on impossible. All she had to go on was that she was in love with her best friend, who, she couldn’t only assume, simply liked to watch her blush every now and then with a flirty comment.

“You two drinkin’ together now?”

Her back prickled at the sound of what could have been seen as yet more jealousy concerning the friendship that had blossomed between her and Abraham. Or, was it simply an observation? She wished he was easier to read.

“Why do you ask?” She tried.

He didn’t know the answer himself. Just that his blood boiled whenever Abraham touched her, or joked with her, or made her laugh so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. He hated the way she sometimes gravitated towards him and refused to ask him to stop making suggestive comments towards her. He hated that she was so comfortable with Abraham, yet with him, she was completely different.

“Curious I guess.” Was all he had to offer.

“Right. To answer your question, he drinks and I scold him for it” She informed him as she slid the book onto the table and patted the swings cushion at her side. Daryl took his cue and sat down beside her, enjoying the rhythmic and soothing rocking of the swing.

“So, you got friends here now?” He questioned. She was different to when she’d first revealed her identity. She was more open to conversation, to teaming up for runs and actually turned up to a party. She was changing and he was seeing more and more of the old Jess peeking through. Her guard was lowering and he wanted to know if it was going to stay down.

“I’m coming around to the idea.” She mentioned breezily “You make it a little difficult to stay so stubborn.”

She shifted and bent one leg, tucking her left foot under her right thigh and draping her arm over her bent knee. She was now facing him with one foot on the floor that was controlling the speed of which the swing swayed.

“Me?” He questioned.

“Yeah, you. You’re my favorite.” She smiled.

He grunted and almost commented that actually, it seemed like Abraham was her favorite.

Jess got up and moved to the edge of the porch, gazing up to the stars and stretching her arms above her head. Through his hair, he allowed himself a peep of the appealing curves of her waist and hips. A conflict raged inside him.

Don’t be an asshole. You shouldn’t be lookin’ at her like this. But hot fuckin’ damn, she cleans up real good.

Jess was busy, wrapped up in her own thoughts for a long time while Daryl watched her every move and bit down on his lower lip.

“I could take you to my boat.” She hummed up to the sky before looking over her shoulder at him. When her eyes met his, he flinched out of his guilty but highly enjoyable daydream.

“Um��Ya boat?” He queried.

She turned and glided back to him, standing over him and gracing him with her shiny lips curved into a playful smile.

“I lived there for a while before I found the fairground. I still go there sometimes, when it’s not too cold. You’d like it. Far away from everyone…. Just you and me. You interested?” She wasn’t intending for it to sound like she was presenting him with an offer laced with sexual tension, it had merely transpired that way and she’d done nothing to rectify it. When his reaction wasn’t one of pure horror, she figured that maybe, just maybe, she could play him at his own game.

Daryl was enthralled and was gawping up at her with his mouth open. He slowly raised one eyebrow.

“Hell yeah, I’m interested.”

----- tagged as requested ----

@lilred254​ @woundmetender​

[cilliantm-blog]

                   `   𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐  !!!  its  𝒔𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒆  here  (  but  u  can  call  me  soph  ...  we’re  all  friends  here  )  ,  a  not  so  proud  gmt-er  ,  who  uses  she/her  pronouns  .  i'm  so  excited  to  get  to  know  u  all  and  ur  beaut  muses  ,  write  up  some  Chaos  &  just  ...  have  a  whale  of  a  time  .  if  you  feel  like  plotting  up  a  storm  ,  give  this  post  a  like  OR  feel  free  to  hmu  on  discord  @ (๑•́‧̫•̀๑)#5013  (  though  i  admittedly  do  check  it  less  often  bc  ...  i  have  0  attention  span  🤡  )

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  here  and  do  i  have  the  tea  for  you  .  𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍   is  back  on  campus  ,  which  is  surprising  considering  the  threatening  note  i  left  them  .  yes  ,  i  know  all  about   𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓  𝐈𝐍  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒  𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆  𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  because  of  their   𝐆𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘 .  imagine  the  tabloids  and  how  the   𝐊𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐊𝐈  family  would  feel  for  such  information  to  come  out  ,  not  to  mention  the  reputation  of  𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀  because  of  their  actions  .  at  this  rate  ,  he  is  better  off  staying  put  in  𝐒𝐀𝐍  𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄  ,  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀  and  living  off  that   𝟔𝟓𝐌  family  net  worth  .  what’s  the  point  in  studying  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆  with  plans  to  𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓  𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄  𝐉𝐎𝐁𝐒  ,  is  it  worth  it  with  what  i  know  ?  anyways  ,  they  may  want  to  continue  to  be   𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑  &  𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄  because  the  𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒  &  𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄  attributes  make  me  want  to  spill  .   

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  :  cillian  filip  kowalski  .

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇  :  22nd  march  .

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒  :  cismale  /  he/him  .

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  :  bisexual  .

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  :  heteroflexible  .

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍  :  san  jose  ,  california  .

𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍  :  polish  ,  irish  .

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒  :  english  ,  polish  ,  german  .

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

leon  &  antonia  kowalski  had  only  ever  planned  on  having  one  child  whom  they  would  raise  to  take  over  the  legendary  kowalski  &  co  pharmaceutics  .  their  dream  was  founded  in  the  birth  of  their  son  ,  jeffrey  .  what  they  hadn't  bargained  on  was  antonia  falling  pregnant  a  second  time  ,  almost  three  years  later  .  the  arrival  of  their  second  child  was  therefore  met  with  a  sense  of  indifference  .  there  were  no  great  plans  for  cillian  ;  their  hopes  &  dreams  already  instilled  in  their  first  -  born  .  instead  cillian  was  viewed  as  more  of  a  back  -  up  plan  ,  in  case  their  first  trial  run  was  unsuccessful  .

it's  safe  to  say  that  cillian  grew  up  in  his  brother's  shadow  ;  although  he  was  an  intelligent  kid  ,  he  never  quite  had  the  same  edge  as  his  brother  -  an  arguable  child  genius  .  the  attention  and  affection  he  didn't  gain  from  his  parents  ,  however  ,  was  gained  by  his  peers  .  jeffrey  had  grown  up  under  a  strict  ,  watchful  eye  -  whereas  cillian  had  been  able  to  roam  much  more  freely  .  he  had  the  one  skill  that  jeffrey  lacked  -  charisma  .  

in  a  strange  way  ,  as  the  two  grew  ,  cillian  took  on  the  role  as  the  leader  .  in  their  teens  he'd  help  jeffrey  sneak  out  to  parties  ,  or  slip  some  vodka  into  his  drink  while  their  father's  gaze  was  turned  .  

the  older  he  got,  the  more  cillian  had  to  fight  and  claw  his  way  to  find  a  thrill  .  eventually  he  turned  to  drugs  ,  and  of  course  drug  jeffrey  with  him  .  the  difference  ?  cillian  didn't  grow  to  depend  &  could  leave  the  drugs  at  the  party  ,  whereas  his  brother  would  grow  to  become  extremely  reliant  .  fast  forward  to  present  day  ,  and  jeffrey  is  nowhere  to  be  found  -  along  with  a  hearty  portion  of  the  kowalski  family  fund  &  a  deeply  rooted  drug  dependency  that  cillian  feels  largely  responsible  for  .  

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

upon  first  meeting  ,  people  often  underestimate  cillian's  intelligence  because  he  gives  off  HUGE  dumbass  energy  .  i  suppose  you  could  say  he's  clever  but  with  limited  common  sense  .  which  isn't  helped  by  his  lack  of  filter  -  the  boy  will  say  anything  that  comes  to  mind  without  so  much  as  a  blink  (  much  to  his  parents'  dismay  )  .  

generally  he's  a  pretty  open  book  ,  and  isn't  completely  emotionally  unattached  (  truly  shocking  for  me  i  LOVE  to  damage  my  muses  )  ,  though  he  isn't  the  most  emotionally  sensitive  of  people  ...  he  can  kinda  be  an  ass  without  meaning  to  ?  has  a  big  heart  but  a  tiny  brain  ?

kind  of  a  fuck  boy  because  we  love  that  !  i'm  gonna  be  Real  and  say  he's  probably  never  had  a  serious  partner  ...  but  a  whole  lot  of  messy  '  wHaT  aRe  We  '  situations  *cue  cillian  running  away*

surprisingly  does  actually  care  about  his  studies  ???  it's  probably  not  expected  of  him  but  he  does  actually  want  to  succeed  n  do  well  ,  and  he  100%  has  the  potential  to  ...  but  can  also  get  a  little  distracted  :/  kinda  like  a  lost  lamb  who  needs  to  be  steered  back  onto  track  

kinda  thinks  hes  the  best  but  also  the  worst  :/  like  he's  not  traumatised  by  his  childhood  or  anything  ,  but  KNOWING  your  parents  dont  really  care  for  your  existence  has  GOT  to  fuck  with  your  mind  at  least  a  little  .  he  doesn't  exactly  push  people  away  or  anything  ,  but  he  does  have  a  sort  of  lone  wolf  mindset  .  of  course  he  has  lots  of  '  friends  '  ,  but  those  he  really  considers  close  are  quite  few  .  

i  don't  know  what  else  to  say  rn  but  i'm  sure  stuff  will  come  to  me  during  plotting  .  i'm  not  gonna  list  wanted  connections  because  i  prefer  to  brainstorm  a  lil  first  but  :)  yes  .  plots  pls  .

[tvnksted]

what’s  poppin  my  dudes  !!  i’ve  gotta  say,  i  haven’t  properly  read  all  your  intros  yet  but  i  have  skimmed  them  and  just  ...,,,  wow  ????  the  Talent  ??  listen  i  am  blown  away.  anyways  to  start  off  my  intro,  a  lil  bit  about  me:  i’m  bee  (  she/her  ),  i’m  from  canada,  i'm  a  second  yr  math  major  so  i  might  not  be  active  every  single  day  (  but  i  do  love  procrastinating  so  we’ll  see  )  and  i  can  probably  quote  the  2005  pride  &  prejudice  off  by  heart.  now  onto  my  boi  ted  !!  not  sure  i  love  love  michel  biel  for  him  but  we’ll  see how  it  goes

* ╰    (  MICHEL  BIEL  ) ┋ have  you  met  (  EDWARD  “TED”  TONKS  )  ?  (  he  ) reminds  me  of  (  boy  forgotten:  oil  on  canvas.  a  remnant  of  softness  in  a  practice-makes-perfect  chrysalis.  snake  skin,  muggle  blood.  a  threadbare  jacket  worn  as  armour,  polished  veneer  marred  only  by  that  chip  on  your  shoulder.  tongue  fluent  in  loopholes  and  sharp  as  sin.  wind-chapped  knuckles  smoothed  by  herbal  lotion,  wind-chapped  lips  sweetened  by  honey  and  apple.  sea  glass  worn  smooth,  turned  over  and  over  in  your  pocket.  black  tea  past  midnight.  cold  fingers,  warm  eyes,  and  a  quicksilver  smile.  the  smoke  of  a  candle  blown  out.  a  skeptic’s  wish.  a  study  in  dichotomy:  are  you  the  wolf,  my  dear,  or  are  you  his  prey  ?  fingers  stained  with  newspaper  ink,  the  first  thawing  of  spring  ice,  and  hand-me-down  hope  you  haven’t  quite  taught  yourself  to  forget.  ).  a  (  twenty  one  )  year  old  (  eleventh  )  year  (  slytherin  ),  the  (  architect  )  is  known  to  be  (  charismatic  &  self-reliant  ),  yet  (  obsessive  &  resentful  ).  that  explains  why  they’re  majoring  in  (  wizarding  law  ).  rumour  has  it,  (  ted  )  is  siding  with  (  the  neutrals  )  in  the  solemn  war  that  blazes  just  beyond  the  horizon. 

pinterest  !

i  was  gonna  write  a  fancy  nice  intro  but  it  was  taking  too  much  time  so  you  get  this  rambly  mess

if  u  get  adam  parrish  vibez  from  this  intro  thats  …,,  very  valid  sdkfsk  he  is  a  large  character  inspo

from  the  moment  edward  tonks  was  born,  he  was  ted.  just  ted.  it  suited  him  better,  the  scrawny  premature  baby  that  he  was,  born  into  a  family  not  made  of  money,  but  something  that  was  equal  parts  desperation  and  love

ted’s  family  didn’t  have  much,  and  they  had  even  less  when  his  dad  left  their  family  when  ted  was  only  ten  for  a  woman  he’d  been  seeing  on  the  side

suffice  to  say  ted  doesn’t  like  his  father  very  much

so  his  mother  was  left  working  double  shifts  bagging  groceries  at  tesco  to  try  and  provide  for  ted  &  his  younger  sister  nora  (  five  years  younger  than  ted  so  she  was  five  when  their  dad  left,  and  sixteen  now  ),  and  ted  helped  out  as  much  as  he  could

when  ted  was  growing  up,  he  was  a  lot  more  creative  &  idealistic  than  he  is  now.  he  used  to  write  a  lot  especially  !  creative  short  stories,  thoughtful  op-ed  pieces,  tongue-in-cheek  poetry,  drawing  inspiration  from  the  most  unlikely  of  places

he  didn’t  grow  up  in  a  super  wealthy  part  of  dublin,  and  so  his  elementary  school  was  underfunded  and  understaffed,  the  teachers  overworked  and  the  students  unmotivated,  but  ted  was  the  kid  who  everyone  expected  to  make  something  of  himself

he  actually  had  some  of  his  writing  published  in  a  young  authors  collection !  wow  go  ted

anyways  and  then  his  dad  left  and  then  hogwarts  happened  and  ted  had  to  deal  with  all  the  shit  that  comes  from  being  a  lower  class  muggleborn  slytherin  and  he  stopped  writing  as  much

he  kept  his  head  high  though,  proud  and  stubborn  as  fuck,  and  kept  his  hand-me-down  uniform  impeccably  ironed  and  washed  and  folded  neatly  in  his  drawer

ted  is  slytherin  as  Fuck  btw.  like  this  isn’t  me  sorting  him  into  slytherin  for  a  Fun  New  Twist  (  well  it  is  but  also  i  couldn’t  see ted  being  in  any  other  house  )

he  is  ambitious  and  clever  and  self-preserving  and  resourceful  and  competitive  and  charming  and  ruthless  and  family-oriented

now  ted  is  tall  and  serious  and  sharp-edged,  a  far  cry  from  the  sickly  baby  he  once  was,  but  the  name’s  still  stuck.  ted,  a  soft  name  from  a  softer  time.  the  only  hint  there’s  still  remnants  of  whimsy  left  in  this  boy

he  was  chosen  to  be  a  slytherin  prefect  and  wears  the  title  with  pride  !  takes  no  shit  but  does  no  harm.  he  especially  keeps  an  eye  out  for  the  few  other  slytherin  muggleborns  at  hogwarts

i’d  think  he’s  probably  pretty  well  liked  at  hogwarts  –  probably  known  for  keeping  a  level  head  and  a  clever  tongue.  he  knows  how  to  make  people  like  him  & uses  it  to  his  advantage

forgive  and  forget  ?  ted  doesn’t  know  her.  resent  and  remember

we  can  see  the  chip  on  your  shoulder  ted

he’s  considerate  and  warm  but  like  …  he  won’t  go  out  of  his  way  to  stand  up  for  muggle  rights  or  anything.  it’s  that  Politics  Mood  where  no  matter  what  he  does,  it  never  seems  to  make  a  difference.  so  in  typical  slytherin  fashion  he’s  just  focusing  on  himself  now,  aiming  to  get  a  cushy  job  in  the  ministry

little  bit  over-focused  on  money  but  that’s  what  happens  when  you  don’t  grow  up  with  it

like  he’d  absolutely  take  a  lucrative  but  boring  job  he  doesn’t  like  over  a  poorly  paying  job  he  loves  (  right  now  at  least  ).  he’s  cynical  like  that.  do  you  think  he’s  taking  wizarding  law  bc  he  enjoys  it  ?  nah.  it’s  for  those  galleonsss

probably  has  had  at  max  one  serious  relationship,  maybe  a  couple  shorter  flings,  but  ted  is  way  too  focused  on  his  independence  to  be  a  good  boyfriend  tbh

idk  why  but  nfwmb  by  hozier  gives  me  strong  ted  vibes  ?

capricorn  sun  cancer  moon

lawful  neutral  in  the  most  slytherin  way  possible.  this  boy  knows  how  to  find  loopholes

intj  as  fuck  !!  i  gave  him  the  label  the  architect  just  cause  i  was  feeling  it  for  him  and  then  just  now  i  was  like  hm  what  mbti  type  is  ted  ?  he  seems  like  an  intj.  and  lo  and  behold  the  mbti  role  for  intj  is  the  architect

he  likes  tea  but  not  coffee

someone  please  make  him  less  cynical  n  teach  him  there’s  still  good  in  the  world

anyways  this  was  rambly  but  pls  love  him

[tertiovitae-blog]

— TASK 001. STATISTICS

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full Name: Simon Chun, as far as federal documentation says.

Nickname(s): Sy, if he has any beyond that, he doesn’t know about them.

Age: 32

Date of Birth: September 22nd, 1986

Hometown: New York, NY

Current Location: Dertosa, CA

Ethnicity: Korean

Nationality: American

Gender: Cismale

Pronouns: He/him

Orientation: Purposefully emotionally unavailable tbqh

Religion: Raised under a Presbyterian mother and an apathetic father. Currently swings between atheism and agnosticism: he’d like to believe there’s some higher power but fails to see much evidence for the presence of one - at least in the form most modern religions teach. There’s no proof in Simon’s eyes of a God that’s both powerful and benevolent. 

Political Affiliation: Independent. Mixed liberal and conservative attitudes. 

Occupation: Former assistant district attorney in Suffolk County, MA, current owner of Pulp Kitchen and Pulp Vintage, his side business in the rare book & documents. PV specializes in early editions, maps, signatures from significant persons predating the 21st century, and the ever-popular vintage movie posters, as well as a few specialized items (architectural blueprints, maps, letters) from Dertosa’s history. Only a handful of these precious items he actually displays: in the very back of the store, close to his office and locked behind a delicate metal gate. Walk-in purchases are not welcome, though interested customers may contact Simon through PV’s website or by phone to make an appointment to examine the collection in person.   

Living Arrangements: The second floor of Pulp Kitchen is dedicated to Simon’s living space, accessed through the stairwell connected to his backroom office, which also empties out into the alley behind PK. He likes the simplicity of an all-in-one building (as well as the feeling of security afforded by elevation and insulation from other people and structures). He’s managed a mish-mash aesthetic of spare industrialism and coziness: exposed brick walls and steel beams, a dark floor but the living room popping with a deep goldrod-yellow carpet and anchored on a large, buttery, reddish leather sofa. There’s a knit throw blanket tossed over the back of just about every seating surface that isn’t the chairs at the kitchen island. All doors are sliding and usually left open for the feeling of greater space. The apartment is blessed with the same wall-to-wall windows of the cafe downstairs and Simon enjoys having his morning coffee with a chair pulled up to them to soak in a little sun and watch the street wake up below. There’s a surprising lack of bookshelves considering the man himself, but less surprising considering the abundance of them downstairs. 

Language(s) Spoken: English, Korean (less frequently than he knows he should). 

Accent: Fairly neutral American, a very clear, well-enunciated way of speaking.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

Face Claim: Steven Yeun

Hair Colour: Black, slightly wavy, usually brushed back or curling over one side of his temple, just a little too short to tuck behind his ears. It tends to not bother him enough that he lets it do what it wants

Eye Colour: Dark brown - call it coffee. 

Height: 5′9

Weight: 145-150 lbs

Build: Closer to slim than wiry or bulked, he pushes himself to stay in shape but he ain’t out to get buff.

Tattoos: N/A

Piercings: N/A

Clothing Style: Man’s got a big spectrum. Take your normal urban book-keep stereotype and add a few more colors and much nicer shoes. Almost always in a collared shirt of some kind, sleeves rolled up above the elbows and leather bracelets on his wrist, or maybe under a well-cut blazer with a discreet watch. You’ll never see Simon in a simple t-shirt if he’s got any choice about it, but at work he’ll range anywhere from this level of fancy jacket to this level of relaxed everything. If he’s going to go casual, it’s definitely in a hoodie with a some kind of weird reference plastered on the front. 

Usual Expression: Neutral and a bit removed, he tends to look ten levels deep in daydreaming even when he’s just sorting shelves or making a cappuccino. There’s pretty clear tells as to whether was he’s thinking is upsetting or pleasant: pinched brows or the smallest upward quirk to his lips.

Distinguishing Characteristics: A rigid scar above his left hip from the struggle three years ago that nearly cost him his life. Simon thanks the bullet scraping his side for giving him the panic-adrenaline to even survive it. A single dimple in his left cheek. Oh -- and we can’t forget the goddamn glasses. He felt like a jackass at first with fake lenses in, but over time he’s learned that they generously contribute to his fulfilling a certain stereotype within this new identity, and he’s now happy to hide behind the thin extra layer of protection granted by longer hair and a useless pair of wire frames. 

HEALTH.

Physical Ailments: None.

Neurological Conditions: His move to Dertosa came with a government-recommended psychologist, though Simon only met with her for a month before dropping out of his appointments with the stubborn belief it was better to take care of himself. There’s a bit of a self-stigma in Simon’s mind regarding mental health: depression and paranoia are emotions from his point of view, not conditions, and he expects himself to manage them like an adult, regardless of whether or not that’s a realistic goal. 

Allergies: Lower level lactose intolerant, but the kind who just pops a lactose pill, says ‘fuck it’, and has his latte anyways.

Sleeping Habits: A pretty solid seven to eight hours a night, in bed before midnight and out before eight 90% of the time. Structure is something Simon actively works for, in the hopes it’ll encourage stability. 

Eating Habits: Somewhat of an accidental vegetarian, his typical diet skirts close, but he lacks the moral rigidity on that particular stance. He’s weak once a really good smell hits his nose, meat be damned. Tries to keep his eating habits as regular as sleep, breakfast is a cup of coffee and any fruit he can grab and take downstairs, lunch is grazed from whatever’s on the menu at PK, dinner thrown together before after seven and before nine, always with some sort of fresh green veg involved. It’s tempting sometimes to revert to old college ramen-and-microwaveables habits, but he’s grudgingly taking care of his body with the full knowledge that the work of cooking is worth pushing him for.

Exercise Habits: Swims laps for an hour and half at the YMCA three times a week and tends to bike or walk for groceries, errands, ect. 

Emotional Stability: Mmmmm, let’s say 6, 7? There’s plenty of emotions tugging at Simon’s sleeve, but he’s simmered down to a more stable center as time has passed and he’s proven to be good for better or for worse at systematically approaching, sorting, and stuffing down what he thinks is useful to acknowledge or not. He purposefully tries to keep away from situations of high emotion, he knows himself well enough to know once he is propelled to extremes, it’s hard to get himself down from them.

Sociability: Simon definitely needs his alone time to refuel and recenter, but he also needs the stimulation of other people or he’d go stircrazy. He keeps an arm’s length, but he’s also too curious about what’s rattling around in other people’s heads to be a true isolationist and can be very warm with the right crowd. It’s a pleasure to have social connections, as long as he can keep the frame of mind that they can only go so far as PK’s front door. 

Body Temperature: Cool-natured, there’s a reason he can get away with wearing suit jackets in summer.

Addictions: Lil bit of a hoarder of sentimental objects. Does not matter is the memory is positive or negative and he doesn’t need to be able to lay eyes on it, just to know it’s within his care.

Drug Use: None.

Alcohol Use: Strictly self-enforced as social. He doesn’t bring booze into his house unless it’s for cooking or a guest. No point in tempting a bad habit.

PERSONALITY.

Label: The Advocate, The Enduring, The Cynical

Positive Traits: driven, educated, perceptive, disciplined, curious, conscientious, discrete, generous, steered by an inner moral code

Negative Traits: dogmatic, detached, stubborn, overly self-reliant, impulsive and bold in matters of principle, deeply buried vulnerability to self-criticism, and the capacity to be truly venomous

Goals/Desires: Stay in his own damn lane while making a life for himself he can actually enjoy. 

Fears: Having to start over again, any form of his past biting him in the ass, having an opportunity to do something just but being rendered unable to because of his situation, forgetting the past.

Hobbies: Cultivating Pulp Vintage’s collection is as much hobby as work, swimming, snapping up new posters for the wall of the cafe, listening to podcasts, reading, handheld puzzles, volunteer work. He hasn’t been back to his self-defense course since his first year in Dertosa but his teacher is slowly attempting to wheedle him back into other classes at the gym. Monthly trips back to Dertosa’s legal indoor gun range to keep himself sharp.

Habits: Cleaning those useless glasses as a way to stall a conversation or action, drumming his fingers, the two-handed mug hold, reading behind the cash register, skimming the paper every day from front to back and impulsively checking the news bar on his phone, covering his mouth with his hand while laughing, doing the lazy half-tuck with a shirt, tapping his foot when he’s jazzed up. 

FAVOURITES.

Weather: Daytime summer rain, that perfect crisp winter day when the air is frosty in his lungs and the ground is coated in snow. Real winter is one of the big things he misses about the Northeast.

Colour(s): Green, blue

Music: He started playing classic jazz/oldies in PK for the sake of that bookshop aesthetic, but he’s gotten genuinely into a lot of it. Nina Simone, Cab Calloway. Longtime listener to The Black Keys, Red Hot Chili Peppers. Vivaldi, Andrés Segovia.

Movies: Clever comedies or character studies, psychological thrillers, old Hollywood experimental movies, all the campiest of 80s horror. ‘Nightcrawler’, ‘the Exorcist’, ‘Metropolis’, ‘In the Mood for Love’. 

Sport: Basketball & fencing. He was a pretty damn good at the latter in high school and he’s entirely self-aware of just how pretentious a thing a boarding school fencing team is to be an alumni of.  

Beverage: Water with a few lime slices, sue him for being boring. Guilty pleasure is those stupidly sweet matcha green tea lattes from Starbucks.

Food: Hit him with that spicy shit. Fuck it up with savory flavors. Finish it with good n’ sweet. There’s definitely love for Korean, but he’s big on Thai and Southwestern cuisine as well. 

Animal: Panther. Just about any big cat, tbh.

FAMILY.

Father: Jeong Yung-sik, aka Howard Jeong. Incarcerated since 2003, age 67. Eligible for release 2249. 

Mother: Jeong Su-jin, aka Sujin Jeong. Deceased as of 2015, aged 56. Official cause of death: craniocerebral ballistic trauma aka a gunshot to the head. 

Sibling(s): Jeong Min-chul, aka Erik Jeong. Deceased as of 2002, aged 16. Official cause of death: exsanguination aka prolonged and fatal blood loss.

Children: None, despite liking kids he doesn’t realistically see a future where it’d be wise to have them. 

Pet(s): His cats Darlene and Mister Meowgi have the run of Pulp Kitchen, the first named after a character from Mr. Robot, the second by an ex-girlfriend. The pun stuck; Simon still can’t bring himself to rename him. He had to give up his boxer, Odin, when he moved to Dertosa and he misses that damn dog every day. 

Family’s Financial Status: Raised very upper class, currently a comfortable upper-middle. Technically, he has none of the money left over from his family’s generous supply, but some of his earnings from his work as an ADA came with him to start him off in Dertosa and fund the opening of Pulp Kitchen.

EXTRA.

Zodiac Sign: Virgo - reliable, practical, critical, seeking goodness while expecting disappointment, prone to overthinking

MBTI: INFJ, ‘The Advocate’ - creative, decisive, perfectionistic, incredibly private, “INFJs have strong beliefs and take the actions that they do not because they are trying to advance themselves, but because they are trying to advance an idea that they truly believe will make the world a better place”.

Enneagram: The heart of Enneagram 8 (the Protector) under a strong shield of Enneagram 5 traits (the Observer) - a conflict between the desire to be confrontational and assertive in issues of justice and protecting the weak and the knowledge that oneself is the person who must be protected first, as well as tendencies towards hoarding and intellectual pursuits. 

Temperament: Melancholic - thoughtful, schedule oriented, economical and perceptive, interested in the philosophical and poetic 

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good - belief in the intrinsic rights of all beings, drive to help the innocent, desire for justice but a willingness to defy the law and do usually immoral things in order to see that justice happens

Primary Vice: Wrath

Primary Virtue: Charity

Element: Water - evolving, inward, empathetic

[saints-row-2]

How DOES shit go for ezra's lil wasteland province that he takes over? Does life improve in that area? How long does it last? Im dyin over here

MAN i havent actually ... really thought much beyond the immediate ending of Fallout 4, when Project Purity are just starting to control the Capital and start turning things around. i guess i dont want to like tie myself down to shit if future games give me new ideas yknow BUT anyway heres what i think right now 

Project Purity is made up of a lot of disparate groups, largely raiders and people from Tallahassee and Ezra-Kane’s merc days, as well as wasteland recruits, fiends, ex-brotherhood, Talon company, other small gangs that Ezra-Kane absorbed into his militia... he just takes whoever wants to join and what that does also is make it so that a lot of people are connected to PP even if theyre not part of it; people are less likely to turn on a group when its giving their child, their partner, their neighbour etc work and a living wage. 

another thing is that Project Purity buys out (using money Ezra-Kane took from the Sierra Madre and from House) like... every fucking trader and trade route they can, and makes deals with every caravan passing through to work as protection etc, as well as rerouting caravan and trade routes through Project Purity affiliated settlements and towns which means very quickly Project Purity controls the vast majority of the trade in the Capital wasteland. 

something i hadnt mentioned recently is that both Ezra-Kane (eventually) and Tallahassee are ghouls and Project Purity has a lot of ghouls, super mutants (the ones who dont hate humans) and synths in its ranks. Ezra-Kane has some.. small drama with Atticus about the Railroad allowing Synths into the Capital later down the line bcs Atticus doesnt approve of any of this shit and doesnt want the synths just being taken into Ezra-Kane’s private army.

like i said, Project Purity doesnt do any of the like... settlement building and repair shit that the Minutemen do so people are mostly left to their own devices. but if you consider shit like Big Town? Big Town’s whole deal is that theyre unable to build a safe settlement because it keeps getting destroyed by super mutants and slavers. but Project Purity cleans out the super mutants and wipes Paradise Falls off the face of the earth (they completely destroy the slave trade in the Capital Ezra-Kane hates slavers) so.. in that scenario, there would be nothing stopping Big Town from flourishing as long as thats what the citizens want. (in theory).

really the big thing that lets PP grow and become successful is that there isnt an opposing force on the same scale. the Brotherhood left and went to the Commonwealth in Fallout 4, and got destroyed by the Railroad. the Enclave die in 3. if, say, the entire force of the NCR or the West Coast Brotherhood came down on them then no, theres a chance they wouldnt do as well, but theres really no one stopping them and thats what lets Ezra-Kane completely take over. people who dont like them are going to be too small-scale to be able to do anything. 

i think in a lot of ways shit would improve. Project Purity does bring a sense of security to the Capital; theres no slavers, theres no enclave or brotherhood, they even clean up feral ghouls and super mutants. they bring work and facilitate outside trade. its... more neutral than the Minutemen in a sense? because the Minutemen are very built around being the heroes who come to save people and help people, but PP are more about punishing people who step out of line. 

like to your average fucking joe who just lives in a small town and makes a living hunting mole rats or whatever, you probably dont fucking care at all. maybe your neighbour’s daughter works for PP and when you go to Rivet City to sell some skins and make some caps, you see some PP soldiers around but youre not doing anything wrong so who gives a shit. i imagine a lot of people like them because hey, they destroyed Paradise Falls and even if there are a lot of zombies working for them at least theyre not running around attacking people. 

i mean the real flaw is that the longer they grow and flourish, the more they have a monopoly on everything. like trade might be safer but theyre cutting a profit on all of it (running a gang has a lot of overhead). something like GNR isnt going to be around for much longer because Ezra-Kane isnt going to tolerate someone running a station which speaks out against him. something like the Regulators, people who are hunting bounties on bad people? no fucking way is competition being allowed. 

and like. the Capital is still sick. the water is bad. the land is bad. its a shitty, hard place to live with or without the raiders and PP isnt going to do anything about that. Megaton is gone so thats one less active, successful town. Ezra-Kane’s whole plan kind of places the entire brunt of actually developing a world worth living in on the people living in it. PP holds a huge amount of capital and power, but its not helping people. which i think could incite a huge amount of resentment; no one’s fond of the rich guy whos hiding in the background while everyone else struggles. and as mentioned, theres not going to be a real way for people to speak out against them. Project Purity is there to keep bad people out, but theres nothing inviting good people to stay in, really. 

Project Purity’s survival is dependent on two things; the Capital Wasteland actually staying populated and alive, because if people keep drifting out in search of a better life elsewhere, theyll eventually be sitting on an empty crop of land, and on no one bigger challenging them. like i said before, the reason PP took over easily is because there was no one to stop them. if, say, the Brotherhood came back, they could probably demolish Project Purity. 

oh, and the people who work for PP actually staying in line because if a big enough chunk of soldiers mutiny then its looking pretty bad pretty quickly.

as for how long it lasts... like i said, Ezra-Kane and Tallahassee are both ghouls, and they deliberately recruit a lot of ghouls to work for the company and particularly in high-ranking positions, which means theyre not going to age out in a hurry. but theres a chance... yknow... if everyone turns on them? dead. if they do get targeted by a rival group? maybe dead. if PP expands too far outside of the Capital Wastes, spreads themselves too thin and gets killed by rival groups? dead. 

the plan for Project Purity is that they expand outside of the Capital and into other parts of america and i feel kind of inevitably Ezra-Kane is going to challenge the wrong person and go down in some blaze of glory... hes gonna die in his power armour with his gun in his hand, thats how ive always seen it. hes got too much ambition and hunger to change the world for it to be any other way.

JESUS CHRIST THIS IS A LONG POST................... tl;dr i think in some ways shit gets better just because people are given an opportunity to let their towns grow, but i think this is almost exclusive to big cities and towns and smaller farmers are kind of fucked. i also think the Capital’s really bad farmland means that people are heavily reliant on trade, which PP is monopolising, which is going to stew resentment. 

i think people in Rivet City or Underworld or other towns that form over the years will probably be more fond of PP than people who like... are struggling to have a living of any kind. i think a lot of people will just start leaving the Capital in the end, honestly. but for a long time... theyre just quietly sitting there, holding the Capital in a tight grip and waiting for someone to try to say shit. 

[grims-classpects]

Can I have a session analysis? It consists of an anxious but helpful Rogue of Light, a depressed but sweet Sylph of Life, an overemotional but selfless Maid of Space, an angry but loyal Prince of Time, and a confrontational but logical Thief of Heart.

You have both cardinal aspects

You have a slight preference for active classes

You have a strong preference for positive aspects

You do not have any repeated classes or aspects

Huh, those bullets look kindof like my last one. But hheeey, thanks for the ask! This looks like a prettyinteresting session, and at a glance I think that the thief is probably goingto be pulling this session into motion and taking leadership rolls; by thesound of the personalities, the group will do well emotionally supporting each otherand working as a team but that might take up a lot of their time and energythat could have been spent “better” planning out the final battle and howthey’re all going to get there.

Maid of space

Maids of space are very, veryuseful to have, and as long as she progresses well she should be great she willbe a loyal force that could easily turn the tides of a battle with her powers.At first she might be quite reliant on the group, as maids often are. She getsoffended and upset over petty drama easily and cares about her friends a lot-maybe a little too much, to the pointthat she might become quite stuck on one thing. It is after entering the gamewhen she embraces her aspect fully that she might learn that people change,grow and improve. Sburb will challenge people and it is crucial that sheaccepts these challenges and grows from them- after learning about the risks,fighting off bosses and laboriously collecting frogs will she still getemotional over the things she used to think were a big deal?

Even before when she wasgetting overemotional about things, she still sounds like the type that keepsfriends together, even at the cost of her own emotional health. As the gameprogresses she will continue to help stop fights before they even happen and possiblytake on a more motherly role, protecting the creativity and freedom of herteammates to do as they wish.

Role: Power wise, the maid ofspace is possibly one of the most powerful and useful classes of all the gamebecause the maid’s description entails “creating and preserving”. With the helpof some of her teammates which it sounds like she’s already pretty close to,collecting frogs and creating the genesis frog should be a pinch. It doesn’tstop there though- if she ascends, she could play an important part defensivelyon the battle field and after. She may be able to heal the battlefield(although that may be heading into Sylph’s territory there), create actualspace- as in, put space between the team and the enemy, as well as preservespace. Preserving space can be interpreted in many ways. It could meanpreserving the planets and keeping them out of harm’s way, or preservingcertain pockets in space so that nothing can get through to that area. I’d goon, but this is getting a lil long ^_^;;

Prince of time

I’ve actually gone throughprinces of time in my last analysis funny enough, but a key difference here isthat it is stated that he is loyal. Loyal but angry. Unless there’s a lot ofbuild-up, his friends should be able to see if he’s going to snap or not andwith a sylph of life as well as many other positive aspects, that day where hebreaks down might never come. Princes often ghost their aspect, so it willprobably be he who is the spontaneous and, (possibly to the surprise of hisfriends) creatively capable and good at thinking himself out of problems(something he them might rub in their face for ever doubting him. Which theymight jokingly accept.). These roles would switch when the prince learns of hisresponsibilities as a time player.

Before that key point he willhave been “killing time”- beating around the bush and doing side quests or“helping” with friends’ ones (annoying them and making them frustrated with hisown easily angered self). After that key point he will have to pick up theslack and start using his time travelling powers to help out or, if he can’taccept that, destroy through time, effectively dooming the timeline. Hopefullythat won’t happen though as long as his teammates keep him on track ;)

Role: It is only after helearns to become responsible with his time travelling abilities that he can behelpful, before that there is the slight chance he’d be helpful, but also thegreater chance that he’d just go wherever his whims wanted him too. On thebattlefield in the fight against the black king and queen, you can creativelyinterpret his powers yourself on “destroying time” to see how destructive he’dbe. You could imagine that he killed time in one place so that everythingaround the area went on whilst that spot and everything in it was frozen. Inthe opposite way, if he was to destroy through time, he might be able torapidly speed up time in certain areas so that people age until they become oldand incapable.

Rogue of light

Light is all about relevance,the importance of things, luck and information. This player will, possiblywithout realising it, be redistributing information among her peers as she seesfit. Although she’s not very comfortable in the spot light herself, she willalways make sure everyone gets their fair share of importance themselves. Shepays attention to the little voices and listens for something important, and ifshe hears something that she thinks others will hear, she’ll be the one to go“uh, guys? So and so has got a fair point…”

Rogues often struggle withtheir aspect initially, and her anxiety proves that. She will take theimportance from herself and give it to others, possibly believing that sheisn’t very helpful and that other people are more important. She faces theproblem of fading into the shadows completely and thinking herself entirelyuseless, at which point she risks inverting into a knight of void and trying anew perspective for “helping” by exploiting people’s secrets…

Honestly it’s great you gaveme a bit of background info there because she sounds very interesting and witha rogue of light, you could have literally any personality I’ve realised.

Role: If she breaks out ofher nervousness and realises her own potential, the rogue could be one of thebest tacticians in the group along with the thief of mind. She could getinformation round the group at lightning fast speed, as well as acting like aspy on the black kings and queens and stealing their plans, giving them to herteam. She could steal the luck from opponents and make them miss, giving theluck to her allies who would then score critical hits.

Sylph of life

A sylph of life is basicallythe best healer in the game, both emotionally and physically. Like the rogue,she probably puts a lot of emphasis on other people, and takes joy out ofmaking others feel better and inspired. She knows how to get people up offtheir feet and moving, which is pretty good if you’re trying to get the princeto accept his title as a hero of time. It’s too bad she doesn’t follow her ownadvice of staying upbeat and positive.

Whether it’s problems athome, or she simply feels neglected by placing so much attention on the groupbut no once asking how she is doing(the latter is less likely considering you have the rogue of light) and thisproblem is going to grow and grow unless someone does something about it.

Role: The sylph of life isthe best healer in the game, though she cannot restore life like the maid can,she can bring people back from the brink of death and I suspect she can do thatmore than just once. Fully realised, she will be the primary healer.

Thief of heart

Oh god… I kind of forgotabout the thief until now and jaesoos I forgot that this one is arguably thebiggest threat to the session. There’s a lot of interpretation here, but Ibelieve that the thief initially is a bit of an identity stealer, or the typethat sees a good idea or passion and takes it for their own, but then afterascending to god tier is able to steal souls. Yeah instead of just destroyingthem, the thief can steal the souls and will of someone, making the body a merepuppet for the thief to use at whim.

Anyway, that went off on abit of a tangent but it makes you realise that dang this thief better refrainfrom pissing off her friends too much by stealing the happiness and passionfrom them (by this I mean, imagine if your sylph had a passion for growingthings. The thief might take this passion away and become a champion gardenerherself, outdoing the sylph and stealing the positivity from her by paradingaround her triumph as the best grower). The key thing here is that she seems tobe quite goal orientated which I take it what you meant by logical. She knowsto be careful with her power. She knows where to move people along and play thestring puller, but she can’t do this without being bossy.

The prince of time isprobably one of the only people that will stand up to him, and even though the sylphof life is good at motivating people, it will be the thief that shoves him in agood or bad direction and this is game changing.

Role: She is anothertactican, and even though the rogue might be better at regulating information,it is the theif that steps up to the challenge of being leader and as long asshe doesn’t get too angry at the other players or the other players don’t getangry at her, she should play a somewhat stable, if a little uneasy, leader.Also a heavy hitter, as said in the first paragraph. If she so chose, she couldbrainwash consorts and carpacians alike to raise an army!

Summary:

This got pretty negative, butplease bear in mind I’m the type of person that picks out what could go wrongfor the sake of conflict, because conflict is interesting to me >xpHonestly, this is a pretty good team and in terms of a solid unit, you’ve got aleader, tactican, therapist and the like. For the battle, your prince and thiefare heavy hitters, your maid is a tank and strong on the defence of the landwhilst the sylph is a healer of the heavy hitters and the rogue, distributing luck,is just the icing on the cake.

If you get to the finalbattle without the prince or thief going rogue, you’ve got this in the bag.