dear_mun | voice testing.

He'll be fine. [ Daryl, that is. And damn is she firm about it. She's got the utmost faith in Daryl, enough that she almost had a little faith in Merle by proxy. Almost. ]

[ oh, well hey there, blondie. ]

I don't doubt that for a second, Twinkie. My little baby brother has always been a fighter. He just needs a bit of a push every now and again.

[ stuffing his hand into his pocket, he purses his lips and rolls his head from side to side until he hears a soft 'click' sound.

talking about daryl is...difficult to say the least, so he's going to change the subject because he can. ]

Anyway, enough about me and mine, how're things going for you? Governor still got you wrapped around his little finger?

He never did. [ That's a lie and they both know it, but she's too proud to say anything else.

As for an actual answer? ] I tried to get to the prison. To warn Rick. Philip's not going to stop until everyone in that prison is dead. [ And he doesn't seem like he's going to die, either. Because that was Plan A. ]

Tried and failed. What a damn shame. [ wow, merle, could you be any more douchey? ]

I almost killed him. Got reaal close to puttin' a bullet in that pretty little head of his. Now all I can do is hope that my brother has got the stones to finish what I started.

[ She's silent for a good few seconds. This is bullshit, all of it. The entire situation. Well tbh she's not too bugged about what happened to Merle, but still. There's really nothing she can say here that accomplishes much more than 'golly gee, let's hope something good happens!'

So after a minute, she ends up giving up on that topic in favor of: ]

So where from here? [ For Merle, that is. ]

[ pulling his hand out of his pocket, he spreads both of his arms and shrugs as if to say, "i ain't got a fucking clue." ]

Truthfully, Goldilocks, I reckon my mun'll just toss my lily-white ass into the trash by the end of this week. She's a fickle bitch, and the thought of her actually makin' plans for little ol' me is just downright funny.

[ wetting his dry lips with his tongue, he cants his head to the side, then he asks: ]

How 'bout you?

I'm in a place. A city, actually. I've been there for... four, five months now? [ That month in a coma screwed up her count. ] It's not bad. Your brother's there, and Carol, Shane, Glenn.

[ sorry, andrea, but a city doesn't sound very appealing to him, mostly because the last time he was in a city he had to hack his own hand off to avoid becoming walker chow. ]

Who's in charge of the place? [ he asks, curiosity lacing his tone. ]

Hell if I know. Believe it or not, politics aren't exactly my strong suit. [ But it's not like Woodbury, where everyone knows the leader by name and shakes his hand. ] There's a police force, if that says anything. And if you don't like how they're running things, there's a whole stretch of forest and fields you can get yourself lost in, too. [ In fact, if he were there, she'd really prefer that he did get himself lost. Whoops. ]

[ psh! stop lying to yourself, andrea. you know that you'd totally hook up with this hot piece of redneck trash if you had the chance to. ]

Hold up a sec, darlin'. You've lost me. [ he scratches the side of his head and makes a face that's part confused, part intrigued. ] So, what you're sayin' is that you, my brother, and a bunch of other happy campers are all holed up in a nice little city that ain't governed by psychotic piece of a shit? [ pausing, he moves his hand down to his chin. ] What about the biters? Who's keepin' them at bay?

There are none. [ And before he can argue: ] I'm not lying to you. You're pretty hard-pressed to find walkers, around here. It's the one thing we can thank these writers for. [ As opposed to getting pissed at them like she tends to. ]

[ if there aren't any walkers, then it definitely isn't his kind of place. merle's adapted to the way the world is now. he's built to kill and he's good at it, but more importantly, he's enjoys it.

look, he's fucked up, okay? dealwithit.gif ]

Does Daryl like it there?

[ Believe it or not, that's one thing they have in common. Shane's tried to tell her not to bother wasting ammo at the shooting range, but if she goes too long without shooting something, it gets under her skin. I guess there's something about the constant fear of bare-bones survival that changes you. ]

Hard to say.

There's plenty for him to hunt. [ But overall, she's not sure. They don't really talk about that kind of shit. But hey: ] Ask him yourself. [ He's two threads down, as it so happens. ]

Edited 2013-03-25 23:29 (UTC)

[ ain't that the truth. ]

Maybe I will.

[ turning his head, he spits on the ground, then he plasters a small, slightly forced smile onto his lips before taking a step forward.

trusting people isn't something that merle is very good at, but he cares about his little brother, and if he doesn't get tossed into somarium, then he needs to know that somebody is going to keep an eye on daryl, and andrea is the perfect person to do just that. ]

...listen, contrary to popular belief, I ain't stupid, blondie. I know that you and I aren't friends — and we probably never will be — but I know that you've got a good heart, and you like to doing the right thing, which is why I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you'll keep an eye on my brother for me.

[ And she, of all of them, didn't actually think he was terribly stupid. Maybe that's why he used to make her so nervous. Idiots never make her nervous like Merle did. He was uneducated, sure, but that didn't mean he wasn't damn sharp. The same way Daryl's sharp. In a place like their world turned into, smart wouldn't get you even a fourth as far as being crafty and clever would.

Ether way, she's looking him hard in the eye through most of his speech, wondering what kind of angle he's getting at (there has to be an angle, he just gave her a compliment). As soon as he mentions Daryl though, her expression softens just barely. They aren't friends, and they probably never will be, but she knows what it's like to be the older of two in a dying world. So after a second, she nods slowly. ]

He's not in this alone.

[ his smile becomes a little less forced and a little more genuine. ]

I appreciate that.

[ A hint of her own grin's tugging at the corners of her mouth, because: ] I'm going to get him a crossbow. [ It's a crime that he doesn't have one, really. She'll leave off the part that this crossbow's going to be a 'sorry i'm the one to tell you your brother's dead' gift of sorts. ]

What's wrong with the one I got him?

[ sooo according to wikipedia daryl's first crossbow was given to him by his big brother. how sweet. ]

Did he lose it?

[ if he did then merle is gonna be super pissed. that crossbow was a thing of beauty! ]

Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna feel sorry for either one of you, man. [A small laugh] Ain't no way.

[ screw you, shane! the dixon brothers are awesome. ]

Aww, stop. You're gonna hurt my feelings.

[ rolling his tongue around his mouth, merle eyeballs the other man for a few seconds, then he says: ]

Ain't seen you in a long, long while, Deputy. What happened to ya?

Wouldn't want to do that, would I?

[Excuse him while he rolls eyes at you. Still not a fan.]

And as for what happened to me? Ain't none of your goddamn business. Georgia's behind me and I don't care to look back.

Nah, you wouldn't, 'cause if you do, then you won't like the outcome.

[ ♪ everybody loves me. ♫ ]

Don't be like that. I'm just tryin' to make a bit of friendly conversation s'all. Tell you what, why don't you and I swap stories? Hell, I'll even go first.

[ clearly he just wants to brag about how he survived after you and yours left him handcuffed to a fucking roof! ]

So, what're you gonna tell me? You gonna tell me how you were kissin' ass down in Woodbury? How you beat the shit outta my boy Glenn?

[Cause he's heard all about that, bro]

What else you got? I'm listenin'.

What I did to Bruce Lee was just business. Nothin' more, nothin' less. [ stop trying to justify your unjustifiable actions, merle! ]

[ raising his bayonet prosthetic arm, he carefully taps the blade against his chin. ] Well, how's about I tell about what happened after Woodbury? I think you'll be surprised by the turn of events.

[Bruce Lee, right. And he gets it, unfortunately. He gets the whole "business" deal, done some of that himself if you must know.]

Alright, man. Go on, I'm still listenin'.

[But before you do, Shane can't help but crack the tiniest of smiles at that weapon you're sporting where that hand used to be...]

Nice piece you got rigged up on that arm. You put that together?

Mm-hmm. Thing of beauty, ain't it?

[ smiling proudly, he slowly twists his arm from side to side so shane can get a good long look at what he likes to call "li'l merle". ]

Governor provided me with all the pretty parts, then all I had to do was figure out how to turn my handless arm into a lethal fuckin' weapon.

They wouldn't have to feel sorry for no one if you'd just stayed back at the goddamn prison, you stupid sack of shit.

[What did he just say? Didn't he just tell you you can't do shit without people no more? And what do you do...? Run off alone and get yourself killed at the first opportunity. Dick move, bro.]

The hell's wrong with you?

[ have a shit eating grin. ]

Nice to see you too, little brother.

[ running his hand over the back of his head, he shrugs unapologetically. ]

I wish I knew, man. I wish I knew.

[ he knows that what he did was selfish and stupid, but his heart was in the right place, and that's what counts, right? ]

...you know, I almost killed that sonuvabitch. I could've ended it. I should've ended it.

[He scowls, resisting the urge to punch that stupid grin right off of Merle's face.]

Shut up. What you shoulda done is stay put.

[Yeah, that whole "heart in the right place" thing? Daryl thinks Merle'd picked a pretty piss-poor time to start with that. It might have mattered, once, a few decades ago, maybe... Now it means precisely shit.]

You shoulda waited. Now you ain't endin' nothin'. [And this next part comes out a little thickly.] That was on me.

I'm a grown man, baby brother. I did what had to be done.

[ maybe he should have waited. maybe he should have done a lot of things, but it's too late for him to do much of anything now. ]

Sure, I could've come back and sat on my ass and waited for your pal Rick to grow a pair and bark his orders, but I chose not to. I went after the Governor by myself because I-- [ yeah, no. he's not going to bother trying to explain the reasoning behind his sacrifice because feelings are gross. ]

Maybe it's better this way. You ever think of that?

[He snorts.]

Coulda fooled me. You went ahead and did what you wanted to do, same as always.

[Feelings are gross, aren't they? Unfortunately for Daryl they're both gross and a thing he has right now thanks to the mess Merle's gone and made. Again. And part of him wants to kick and scream and carry on like a damn child, because this is Merle, it's his brother and he'd had to--

But he keeps it together, at least until that question. That makes him see red.]

Are you outta your fuckin' mind? [Which isn't to say the thought hadn't crossed his mind; Merle's a pain in the ass, always has been and there were times (which he regrets now, given the reality of the situation) where he'd wondered that himself, if things would be better this way...

They aren't.] Don't put that shit on me! You're my brother, you asshole, how the hell is this better?

[ pursing his lips, he slips his hand into his pocket and tries his hardest to focus on something other than the sound of his brother's voice. part of him wants to apologize for all of the pain and suffering he's caused, but unfortunately he's just too damn stubborn and set in his ways to say two simple words.

besides, only pussys apologize, and he ain't no pussy! ]

I was more like a ball and chain than your brother. [ plastering a smile onto his dry lips, he takes a step forward and lays his hand on Daryl's shoulder. ] It ain't pretty, but then again, the truth never is.

[Unless you wanna be responsible for even more rage (and then a heart attack on top of that) those apologies had best be kept to yourself, bro. Daryl wouldn't know what the fuck to do with it now.

As it is he's actually startled when Merle takes that step and lifts his hand, not to slap him upside the head for his mouth, but to drop it on his shoulder. The flinch is more noticeable than he wants it to be, and the ache of how bad he's always craved any kind of affection like this is more than he cares to acknowledge.]

So what? [And he shrugs that hand off. Fuck it.] Since when do you care about bein' a pain in my ass?

[Past tense: Not something he can bring himself to use right now.]

[ hurt flickers across his face when his hand falls off his brother's shoulder. guess he should've known that his hands aren't made for comfort. ]

I've always cared, [ he says through clenched teeth. ] I'm the only one who's ever gave a shit about you! Your buddies at the prison don't really care about ya, not like I do.

[ "do"? what are tenses? ]

Face it, man, I'm all you've got.

[He doesn't miss that look and in fact feels a little bad about it, but he can't accept the comfort right now. Shit, he can't accept comfort ever, who's he kidding?

And he isn't about to argue over whether or not the group gives a shit about him; never mind the fact that he doesn't actually know if they do or they don't, he's with them. He gives a shit about them. Besides, he's more interested in where Merle's apparent care has led him- there's no questioning that.]

Yeah? Guess that don't leave me with a whole hell of a lot, does it?

[It doesn't come out nearly as pissed off as he wants it to, but he'll take what he can get.

It's just like when they were kids... Even though he'd wanted to believe that Merle following him back to the prison had been a chance to start again, he should have known better. There are no second chances, not for either of them.]

You still left, bro.

[And what does that say about Daryl...?]

[ goddammit, daryl. ]

Clearly I was blessed with the brains and the looks.

[ clenching his fist and gritting his teeth, merle takes another step towards his brother, but this time he doesn't lay a hand on him, he just looks him in the eyes and says: ]

I left for you, little brother. Sheriff Rick didn't have the spine to hand the nigger bitch over to The Governor, I did; however, halfway there I realized that givin' Michonne to that messed up sonuvabitch wasn't gonna accomplish anythin', so I let her go, went and had myself a nice, long drink, and then I went after him...'cause I figured if I killed him, then all would be forgiven. [ taking a few steps backwards, he tilts his head and spits near his feet. telling daryl all of that was...difficult to say the least, but at least now his baby brother knows the truth, so maybe he can forgive him. eventually. ] So you see, I did choose a side. I chose you. You and your crew.

[ you happy now, bro? ]

Edited (~ BANANA PUDDING! ~) 2013-03-28 22:30 (UTC)

[There was a time when that muscle twitching in Merle's jaw and the clenched fists might have made Daryl back down... But that time is past, and so he holds his ground, stubbornly tilting his chin up and narrowing his eyes. If they're gonna go, they're gonna go; he can handle a fist fight if that's what Merle wants to do... And so he's steeling himself to get his ass handed to him, becuase let's be real, here: that's what's gonna happen.

He's ready for a brawl, but what he gets is... Something else entirely.

Merle starts talking. And keeps right on talking, and hell if it isn't the most Daryl's heard out his mouth that doesn't involve sex, drugs, or beating someone's ass in god only knows how long. ...Well, okay, it has some of those elements, but the fact that they're all background noise isn't something he was prepared for. Daryl keeps quiet, body still tensed and ready to throw down up until the second his brother backs away. His own hands had clenched into fists (when did that happen?) and by the time Merle's finished with his tirade they're curled so tight he can feel his blunt nails pressing crescents into his palms. He feels sick and he's shaking slightly, and holding that eye contact is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. For a few seconds, all he can do is stare, blink, and chew the inside of his lip to shit, and then:]

Stupid son of a bitch!

[He launches himself at Merle, one of those fists pulling back and aiming a sloppy hook to his jaw before he has a chance to remind himself of the world of hurt he's gonna be in for. He's never been much for melee fighting, and he knows better than to think he could overpower his brother who has both weight and experience on him, but right now he couldn't give less of a fuck. All he knows is that he doesn't know how to deal with that, and this is the only outlet he's got.]

[ lbr, merle could have easily dodged his brother's attack; he doesn't.

he deserves to have the shit kicked out of him. hell, he deserves a hell of a lot more than that, but for now he'll just have to take what he can get until he grows tired of getting his ass kicked, and then he'll retaliate, which'll make him feel like a ginormous cunt, buuut there we go. ]

[ bringing his hand up to his face, he gives his jaw a quick rub, then he laughs loudly in amusement. ]

That all you got? Come on, Darylina, hit me like a man!

[ ...ladies and gentlemen, merle "ridiculously fucked up" dixon. ]

Come on, boy, take another swing, show me what you're made of, you weak, little prick.

[ the words taste like ashes in his mouth, but doesn't dare take them back. maybe a part of him wants daryl to hate him. things would be so much easier if his little baby brother could just let him go. ]

What're you waiting for?! Hit me! [ he yells, deliberately stepping into his brother's personal space to try and draw a reaction out of him. ]

Edited (TAG FAIL :@) 2013-03-29 01:09 (UTC)

[The surprise Daryl'd felt at Merle's little speech is nothing compared to the surprise of his fist actually making contact with the side of his brother's face. It makes him stumble a bit; he'd been ready to move out of the way of a responding punch, not for it to actually follow through. In fact, he's stunned enough that he doesn't immediately start swinging away, only opens and closes his fist a few times until he can feel his fingers again.

The stuff Merle's saying is all trash talk- goading him, he knows, he's been dealing with it all his life- but fuck if it doesn't crawl right up under his skin anyway. It straight pisses him off even though it's nothing new and sure as hell isn't the worst he's ever heard. Still, fuming but with a mind to keep Merle from winning and getting more of a rise out of him than he already has, he's making a pretty valiant effort not to keep right on swinging, even though he really, really wants to...

And then Merle steps into his space (because no one knows how to push his fucking buttons like his brother does) and his resolve to keep this from going any further all but evaporates. Nostrils flaring, his voice is low and carries a definite warning tone:]

Get outta my face, man. [And he gives him a hard shove, when he doesn't back off. Keep testing him...]

[ merle is a shitty brother. he can bang on and on about how he's all that his brother has got, but at the end of the day that isn't true. daryl has a family. a real honest-to-god family. and, merle would be a liar if he said he wasn't the least bit jealous of that. guess it doesn't really matter now though, does it? since he's, you know, dead. ]

[ whatever. ]

Make me.

[ momentarily tearing his eyes away from his younger brother's, merle quickly and efficiently removes the bayonet from his prosthetic arm, then he tosses it to the ground before invading his brother's personal space again. ]

There. Now I'm unarmed, just like you. [ rolling his tongue around his mouth, he positions himself with his feet shoulder width apart and to prepare himself for the sharp sting of daryl's fist. ] So come on, baby brother, quit acting like a bitch and throw a goddamn punch already.

[ his blood is beginning to boil under skin, and it isn't because daryl is refusing to fight, it's because he loathes himself. he hates himself for all of the dirty little things he's done, he hates himself because he's nothing but dirt, but mostly he hates himself for not being the kind of brother that daryl deserves.

shaking with anger, a red mist slowly begins to descend and without even thinking about what his next move is going to be, merle dives forward with the intent of wrapping his strong arms around daryl's torso to tackle him to the ground. ]

[Shitty though he undoubtedly is (most of the time), Merle's the only brother Daryl's got... Or at least he was, until he decided to grow some compassion or a conscience or whatever the fuck else it was that'd made him decide "yep, today's the day I finally do what I've been threatening to do my entire life with one bad idea after another, and run out and get myself killed". And for no fucking reason, see, that's the part Daryl's having the most trouble with. It didn't have to be this way, if he'd just waited, just chilled the fuck out and used his god damn head for a second...

But he didn't. He never does, and this time it'd done more than land him downtown with the other drunks for the night or upstate for a few months with another crowd altogether. He'd gone and fucked it all up, and now Daryl's paying for it. Again. And he's pissed.

He's so pissed he's barely paying attention to Merle unstrapping that crazy arm of his, and he certainly isn't registering a damn word his brother's saying... For all Daryl knows, he could be proposing they go and get a beer, but it doesn't really matter because Merle's in his space and running his fucking mouth again, and that's all he needs; Merle lunges at him just as he's throwing another punch, a slightly off center jab that was aiming for his nose but probably ends up somewhere in the vicinity of his cheek. If it lands, it's nothing but a glancing blow before they both topple backwards. There's a painful sounding thud as Daryl's back hits the ground, a grunt as the air's pushed out of his lungs, and then more swearing.]

Fuck you, get the fuck offa me--!

[He's just gonna swing his hands and hope he catches you in the eye, Merle.]

[ ignoring the painful ache in his jaw, he splays his hand across his brother's shoulder, then he leans forward, using his all of his weight to keep daryl pinned to the ground.

brawling is something that merle has always been good at. when he and daryl were kids, he can remember being able to kick his little brother's ass with his both of his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back.

apparently some things never change. ]

Shut up.

[ nostrils flaring, teeth clenched, he swiftly raises his prosthetic arm to parry his little brother's attack, then he counterattacks by moving his arm down and aiming his elbow toward his brother's face. ]

M'gonna knock your teeth out, boy.

[ more meaningless trash talk. because he can. ]

[Make no mistake: Daryl's as lethal as they come, more than capable of busting skulls and breaking noses... But there's something about Merle that just makes him regress to a time when all he'd had was his anger and no such skills to speak of, and maybe that's why he can't, for the life of him, seem to throw his two-ton brother off of him. He's never won a fight with Merle in his life, and it doesn't look like he's about to start now.

Jerking his head away from that elbow, he reaches up to shove at Merle's face as he wriggles pointlessly to try and knock him off balance.]

Get the fuck off- [And he aims a cheap shot at Merle's gut, since he's occupied with that elbow and the hand at his shoulder.] Son of a bitch-

[ dirt and dust begins to rise up from the ground as merle struggles to keep his brother pinned to the ground.

daryl is almost as strong as he is, but he's nowhere near as skilled in hand-to-hand combat, which is why merle (thankfully) manages to avoid being punched in the gut gut; however, the shoving is starting to become a bit irritating, so grabs a fistful of his daryl's shirt and yanks his brother towards him, then he draws back his prosthetic arm, readying himself to drive his fist straight into daryl's face, but then something strange happens. instead of beating the crap out of his kid brother, merle lowers his arm and takes a deep breath.

this fight is pointless. he isn't going to gain anything from rearranging daryl's face. well, except a surge of guilt, of course.

pressing his lips together, he takes a moment to calm himself down. his temper has always got the best of him, but this time he refuses to let his rage to consume him. ]

I'm sor-- Shit. You're a mess, brother, and I'm-- Fuck, I don't even know who or what I am any more.

[ shifting slightly, he digs his knees into the dirt and hooks his prosthetic arm around daryl's back, then he places his hand on the back of daryl's neck and tilts his head forward so their foreheads are pressed together. ]

It's time to let me go, D. I'm a piece of shit and...I just hold you back.

[Daryl doesn't even blink when that fist is raised; just scowls up at Merle obstinately, daring him to do it already if he's gonna. There's a trickle of blood at his lip- he must have bitten it when he'd landed on the ground, hell if he remembers- and his breathing is slightly labored, both from the weight on his chest and the exertion, and honestly? He just wants to get on with it. He's hurting already (just not in a way he knows how to handle) and so frankly, looking after his rearranged face would give him something else to concentrate on, something simple, the kind of pain that makes him look tough, not a fucking pussy crying in the corner.

He needs this, and he's ready for it--

But the blow doesn't come. Instead, there's a half apology, and then, ubelieveably, horribly, some of that anger drains from his brother's face, and he knows he isn't getting off that easy. Does he ever...?]

Merle, what the hell- [And he tries his very best to shrink away from the contact that comes next, melt into the dirt to escape but he can't seem to manage it; for all his struggling, all he can do is tense up, every muscle in his body protesting this...

Until finally, he gives in, sagging and letting out the long, shaky breath he'd been holding.]

What if I don't wanna?

[What if he can't?]

[ this type of physical contact is highly unusual for merle, so naturally he feels a little awkward and out of his comfort zone though he doesn't show it.

breathing heavily, his grip on his brother becomes a fraction tighter. daryl means the world to him and if he was able to rewind time then he wouldn't have gone after the governor alone. no, wait, that's a lie. if he could rewind time then he'd just make the same mistake all over again because he's stubborn, stupid and violently protective of his little brother. ]

Y'gotta. It's for the best. Deep down you know I'm right, don't cha?

[If Merle's out of his comfort zone, Daryl's at a gay mens' knitting club meeting; he can't remember the last time he'd been this close to anyone, let alone his brother, in a capacity that hadn't included fists being hurled... Or knives being driven into skulls. The memory's still fresh enough that it makes Daryl's hands shake, and until he manages to get a grip he could swear there's blood on his hands, too.

In fact, all of him is shaking, a slight tremor as his breathing goes ragged at the tightening of Merle's grip. Letting his head drop to his brother's shoulder, he picks his hands up and sets them like he's gonna shove him away... But he can't make himself do it.

And it's a god damn good thing he'd moved his face out of sight; there's moisture prickling at his eyes now and fuck if it isn't the most humiliating moment in his life. He isn't about to start bawling like a child, though, not if he can help it, and so he takes a few breaths to compose himself (hoping Merle doesn't notice), before he opens his mouth to answer.]

I don't gotta do nothin'.

[...The and you can't make me goes unsaid. That stupid, stubbornness gene clearly runs in the family.]

[ for once in his life, merle is actually trying to talk and...open up, but needless to say, he isn't very good at it.

a low sound of discontent elicits from the back of merle's throat. why the hell does his pain-in-the-ass little brother have to be so fucking difficult? ]

Come on, little D, quit being a stubborn bastard.

[ gradually pulling back, he lowers his arms before climbing to his feet. lines of frustration begin to appear on his forehead, and as soon as he's reached his full height, he stuffs his hand into his pocket and turns away from his brother. ]

Get outta here, man.

[Being difficult? That's what little brothers are for, didn't you get the memo? They exist solely to be a pain in the ass, follow you around, look for your approval... All the fun shit.

Daryl's hands drop to his sides as Merle pulls away, and instantly he regrets not holding onto him, just for a second longer. But the moment's gone and before he knows it, all he has to show for this is his brother's back and an ache in his chest.

He shoves himself up then- because what else is he supposed to do?- and stares at his brother's figure, wondering how in the hell it'd come to this. No one was supposed to be able to kill Merle but Merle, god dammit... Not his brother.

At a loss for words, he crosses his arms over his chest, though he doesn't turn away just yet. He doesn't know what to do with himself, really, and maybe that's why he feels some of that anger and frustration sinking back in. In any case, he scowls as he finds his voice again.]

Fine.

[Great comeback there, Daryl. Really stellar.]

voice testing.

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just so i know, am i tagging you in two places right now? been trying to figure that out, lmao

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/S C R E A M I N G

/GROSS SOBBING

I actually can't. You made my day negl.

and you've made mine. dixon brothers <3

dixon. brothers. /endless hearts

norman and rooker deserve ALL THE AWARDS!

all of the awards for making me ugly cry :|

i needed an outlet for my daryl/merle feels, okay? dealwithit.gif

samesies, man, samesies. watch for exploding feels, ahhh

/holds you

/weeping forever t b q h

STAHP! ARE YOUR TRYING TO KILL ME?!

X____X

✝ R . I . P ✝

preeeeetty much, man. pretty much :'C

♪ somebody call out to your brother, he's calling out your name. ♫

skjdhagjklsdha my heeeeart

♪ KILLING ME SOFTLY WITH EACH TAG. ♫

p r e t t y. m u c h.

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