Fandoms // Ficlets

[sangreine]

Canon Options:

+ Any CR I've RP'd (NO PROMISES on getting characters whose canons I don't know perfect but I'll do my best!)

+ Blood+
+ Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul
+ Burn Notice
+ Criminal Minds (through S8)
+ D.Gray-Man
+ Dark Matter
+ Disney/Pixar
+ Game of Thrones (TV, no promises on minor characters but I'll try!)
+ Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha (through StrikerS)
+ MCU (Everything by chronological release until Shang-Chi)
+ Ranma 1/2
+ Slayers (anime)
+ The Good Place
+ The Name of the Wind/The Wise Man's Fear/The Slow Regard of Silent Things
+ The Walking Dead/Fear (TV)
+ This Is Us

Comments

[dum_spiro]

Daryl's entrance into the sitting area yields both what he sought, and a shock besides: his brother and Carol seated at a table together, each holding a piece of a deck of cards, a strange tension hovering as Merle puffs on a cigarette. He's -- not certain what to think, exactly, but he's not about to let the question settle.

"What's goin' on?" he asks, mostly successful at sounding casual. Looking from one to the other, Merle's smarmy grin and Carol's unbreaking eye contact, he can't begin to guess.

"More like what's going off," Merle corrects, "which is about to be your shirt, sweet cheeks." Carol eyes him levelly, eyebrow lifting -- letting him know he's pushing his luck. Daryl's seen that often enough, but can't entirely avoid his hackles raised at the taunt. Damn Merle and his bullshit.

"Show you mine after you show me yours," she says in reply, snapping her fanned cards to the table. Blinking, Daryl's about to offer some objection, they can't possibly --

Merle places his cards down, two pair, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Smug bastard, you'd think he just summitted Everest, which is about as likely as Daryl letting Carol get undressed for him.

Carol flips her cards upright, grinning. "Queens over tens," she says, nodding at her full house and rising from her chair. "Oh please, sir," she adds, flipping into a dainty Southern drawl Daryl'd never heard from her, "won't you teach lil' ole me how to play poker? I've never done such a scandalous thing!" With a winning smile, quite literally, she claps Merle on the shoulder and strides off toward the kitchen.

Hiding his amusement quite well, he thinks, Daryl slides into her still warm chair, eyeing his brother. "The hell was that?"

"Nothin'" Merle says, something between amused and annoyed. "Your lady's got a mean streak."

Mean wouldn't be the right word, but tough for sure, and surprising. Were they really playing for...

Well, whatever. Merle likely had only a few more days here, if what they'd heard was true. Wasting time debating what he was trying to do isn't the best use of time, and he'll just get it out of Carol later (if he really was trying to get her clothes off it won't end well, and quarreling isn't an appealing use of a probably once in a lifetime chance). Besides, she wouldn't really.

"Ya done alright for yourself," Merle says, surprising Daryl yet again and making him go still in his chair. What was this, goodbye? he doesn't like it. But neither does he know what to say, so he studies a whorled knot in the table. "I always knew you'd do fine on your own. Better, maybe."

Okay, that cuts it. Daryl makes a noise, something like a grunt, not so much disagreeing (certainly not agreeing, though) as to get Merle to stop. This isn't something they do.

"Don't --" Daryl starts before whatever he might have said slips out of grasp. Like he can't decide whether to be mad.

Merle waves him off. "I'm done," he says, stubbing his cigarette out on an empty plate which has some crumbs of chocolate littered across it. "Just not a welcher, is all."

Sweeping up the cards with a gesture that implies if Daryl says another word he'll knock him one, Merle starts shuffling. "Draw or Hold 'em?"