❛     ———   you  are  not  safe.  no  matter  how  many  people  are  around  or  how  clear  the  area  looks.  no  matter  what  anyone  says.  no  matter  what  you  think.  YOU  ARE  NOT  SAFE.  it  only  takes  one  second.  one  second  &  it’s  over.  never  let  your  guard  down,  ever.  ❜  

Rick Grimes with his hands on his hips

now stood,  expectant,  under the branches of an ageing oak tree,  he can’t help but absorb himself into the anonymous wonderment of a moment’s peace out here.    time to reflect comes few and far between.    this leaves as swiftly as it arrives as he tells himself to keep his muddy eyes peeled on his surroundings ;    not to get too caught up in the euphoria of the wood smell and the birdsong ;     and to   STAY  FOCUSED.

       he knew rick grimes was a    THREAT   out here now.        even he.

but perhaps he’d have told the others back at the sanctuary that he was simply going out on his own for a while.    perhaps he was explaining this uncharacteristic venture off into the wilderness a tactical move.     perhaps he’d given up his time in the pit for a while to seek out a face he once knew.     someone who had    n o   i d e a    he was even there.    so maybe this was a stupid idea    ——————–    he thinks that,  over and over,  as time wanes onward.    as the height of the scorching blaze in the sky starts to lower ;     as his wariness peaks,  then dips,  then peaks again.     as he sinks his teeth into the third protein bar he’d had that day.     as he wonders,   what the hell am i doing.

he’s out there a day,  on his own,  until anything of note happens.    and surprisingly,  it’s exactly the reason he came out here in the first place.

the rifle’s aimed at rick square on,  as he steps from where he’d been slumped by a tree ;     drowsy,  fresh from sleep,  but somehow still   VIBRANTLY AWAKE.    ignoring how his stomach growls at him,  ignoring how it churns with anxiousness,     he bites his own bullet ;      chews it up,  spits it out.    HE WILL GET ANSWERS,   now,   for their meeting not so long ago.     he will get what he has deserved for all these years.

               HE  TREADS  UPON  A  SEA  OF  RED.  gasping. heaving. choking amid the toxins that float like invisible dust in the air   ;   knowingly infiltrating his nostrils.  a trespasser inside his body.  a machine in works of creating the infamous flesh devouring monster, waiting to be released into the rotting world. he bleeds a deathless PLAGUE. an undying contagion yearning to swallow him whole.  a grotesque purpose rick would fight for as long as the leaves turned color during their respective seasons.  the plant adapts  &  so would rick  ;  to temperature, to conditions,  &  to people. though, normally, a person altered their lifestyle when inhabiting the same space as rick grimes  (  if they knew what was good for them.  )  luckily,  alexandria abided to just that.   

 &  maybe that’s why his judgement is effortlessly trusted.  his  experience as a silent guide to those he now called family.  how they could effortlessly put their protection in his hands.  rick is a leader.  he always has been  &  it’s a title he will fight for with bruised knuckles  &  broken bone.  always on edge. always ALERT.  any threat to rick or the group was eliminated with no chance of escape. stabbed, shot, beaten. whatever fate had in store. murder raged through his veins when the gun was held promptly against his temple. if not for a lucky strike of turning his head he’s have stabbed an old friend between the eyes like another other roamer  &  not thought twice about doing so.

even then rick had second thoughts about a meeting in the woods.  DANGEROUS ?  yes. for all rick knew he was being led to a trap. ira posed every kind of threat to his  &  the group’s well-being.  this world turns you  (  in more ways than one  )  into something you’d only see in your dreams  --- your nightmares.  countless times he’d turned his heel, made his way back to the safe-zone for a good minute  &  then repeat this motion the other way.  surprisingly,  walkers didn’t seem to disturb the area.  that isn’t to say the shuffle of decaying remains never touched the grass  ;   no ground was sacred. a few steps forward now.  of course he’d brought a knife to a gun fight.

upon observing the other before he’d noted ira’s appearance  ;  hair uncut  &  untamed, stubble peppered along the younger’s jaw  &  chin, skin blushed of dirt  &  mud, as any survivor should look ---  TIRED, ratted. aged not of fine wine, but of experience  &  life. it’s surreal gazing ‘pon the man sat while chowing a bar of food  (  granola, maybe ?  )  &  ever so quietly rick finalizes the arrival of his destination with one hand in the air.

  ❛  never promised not t’be. safety precaution  ----------  RIGHT ?  ❜ 

Advice: Don't Write Out Accents

Believe me, you don’t want to write an accent. Writing accents requires all sorts of spelling and grammatical acrobatics that are offensive, distracting, and confusing to the reader.  When writers fixate on a character’s accent, it’s a vanity issue that has to be let go. A person’s accent is not what’s important about them, and it shouldn’t be so important in a character that it has to be spelled out. It’s far more important to establish where the character is from and let the reader imagine the accent for themselves, however they imagine it. If the accent they hear in their heads is different than the one you intended, it will have zero affect on the character and the story. Instead of spelling out the accent, research the slang and other verbal cues spoken in the specific area your character is from. Then, have the narrator, the character, or another character establish where the foreign character is from, and incorporate the slang and other cues into their dialogue. For example, if I tell you my character is from Texas and then she walks into a room and says, “Hey, ya’ll! Come on inside and get yourself some sweet tea,” you probably heard that in a southern accent as you read. If you didn’t—does it matter? :) Here’s another post I did on writing accents.

          ok listen.

          i understand that, in excess, writing out an accent can be both tedious and confusing. but if you actually do your research and you put thought and effort into what your character is saying and how you’re writing it out, accents serve to IMMERSE the reader in your writing.

          sometimes a character’s accent is important. and you know what ?? maybe someone doesn’t want to keep reminding the reader the their character is from a certain place. especially if you’re roleplaying and it’s an oc !! because holy cow if your character isn’t canon and your partners aren’t necessarily super invested in your oc, they can ( and likely will ) forget where they’re from, and won’t go check your pages to remember.

          and let’s not forget that writing is what you make of it !! there are plenty of amazing ( and famous ) authors that write out the accents in their stories. there are also plenty that don’t. so do whatever you want with your character’s dialogue, and don’t let someone on the internet tell you that you can’t or that you shouldn’t.

          also—– i just wanted to point out that, as someone said in their tags on this post, the fact that this post literally says HEY Y’ALL COME ON INSIDE AND GET YOURSELF SOME SWEET TEA is more offensive than someone that’s actually trying to write a decent accent. talk about stereotyping. :)

scandal sentence starters aka lots of angst, sex, and murder.