all my friends are negan take it slow

[peepeepants]

WHO: Negan, Lucille, & YOU
WHERE: all over - I'm not putting cities on any of the prompts so feel free to choose if it's a Thing for you
WHEN: MONTH OF JULY
WHAT: stuff and things
WARNINGS: swearing for sure probable mentions of zombies and shit




BATTING RANGE

Negan is making something of a commotion at the local batting range. Well, Lucille is making the commotion, and it's more like a group has gathered around to watch him hit balls as far as he can because, holy shit, that bat has fucking barbed wire on it, what the hell? Is he ever going to take off the leather coat? Why is his belt so shiny? Mysteries surround this performance but they're not asking, just watching. And Negan is drinking it all in and giving them something to watch. Lucille is invincible now, or so he's been told.

It's now or never. Negan takes a beer from an onlooker, mutters something obscene about how Lucille likes it as he dribbles it all over her, and then casually pulls out a lighter because he's gonna turn these fastballs into fireballs. Amazing!


GROCERY STORE

It's been so long since Negan had to buy things. It's been so long since he was able to buy things because the world was covered in shitty dead people who weren't happy with their ending. Had there always been so many kinds of coffees? And chocolates? And soaps?

He'll be found in pretty much every aisle turning such over, peering down at the label and questioning all creation because French fucking what roast? or peanut butter? or any other number of questions one might expect from a man used to one or two brands of coffee and the like.

Lucille is casually tucked against his shoulder, of course. Of course she is.

SO MANY PLACES

Negan will definitely be looking for a motorcycle, he will go to shady cheap bars, he will seek out strip clubs, and he'll sure as shit spend some time going to the movies with a second ticket for Lucille. He'll laugh louder than most and Lucille won't because she is a bat.

Feel free to run into him most anywhere - except castmates, I'll write specific starters for you or you can!

Comments

grocery store

[jeaniegrey]

Jean's in here grabbing just a couple snacks for herself and maybe a few other things for Erik and Charles back at the house when she picks up a certain brand of cereal and looks it over. She's... still getting the hang of not being in the 80's anymore and so she's a little distracted with this cartoon character on the box of cereal (who exactly is this?) she's holding and maybe not really paying attention to just where she's going and so... yeah, you guessed it, bumps right into Negan here, dropping the box of cereal and the other couple of items she had in her arms.

"I'm sorry! I didn't... see you there..."

That sentence is definitely going to sort of trail off there when she catches sight of Lucille since, well, can't exactly say she's seen something like that before.

[peepeepants]

"My goodness! Lucille, look what you did. Look at all this mess you made."

Who's Lucille? Well, he only looks at Jean for a moment, and her name is definitely not Lucille. Then he's moving to a squat to pick up what's been dropped, tutting and favoring the shoulder with the bat more than he needs to. Jean doesn't have to read minds to realize he's talking to his bat who conveniently has a lady name.

Maybe this is one head to avoid dipping into.

"I'm so sorry, darlin'," he goes on, holding her items out to be taken back. "She's just an excitable girl."

store

[ghoulking]

Good thing Kaneki is around to tell Negan the amazing different brands of coffee he can find, and which ones are the best. Because Kaneki is an elitist about coffee, and he thinks everyone should drink the best, he is ready to point out to one of the brands.

So when he is walking around the grocery store and sees Negan staring at the coffee, he can't help but to point at one of the brands "This one is the best in here."

[peepeepants]

Good thing indeed. Otherwise Negan might just grab up some Folger's dark roast and eat the grinds like an actual heathen. Thank God for ghouls!

"Yeah?" Negan spares Kaneki enough glance to take in that badass hair and the whole eye issue, because he's not in charge here and he can't just stare and tell people to take stuff off because the alternative is a terrible death, or worse. So he looks, nods, plucks up the coffee, and turns it over to read the backside. Always into the butts. He leans over, a bit into the personal space bubble, and drops his voice to ask. "What makes it so good?"

SHADY BAR! SHADY BAR!!!!

[itistolaugh]

There was a time that Harley made a point of going to nice bars, with nice boys, when she thought she could follow a checklist of doing the right thing to get a happy ending. But now she has a job she likes with a boss she hates, and no boys at all, so what was the fucking point of paying more for a couple beers in a place where all the lights work?

When in doubt, she seeks out the places that remind her most of Gotham. Which means the diviest dive in Maurtia Falls, so far off the beaten path she'd never even noticed it was open for business until one of her gal pals at the seedy topless bar across the street tipped her off to their policy of discounts for great asses and perky tits. It's almost a little slice of home. Right down to the showy asshole in leather swaggering around like he owns the place.

She's flipping through the jukebox catalog just in case there's a song she knows from home — which there won't be and even if there was it wouldn't matter because the damn thing hasn't worked in years — swaying her hips to the music in her head, when this guy bursts through the door practically dick first. But her appreciative gaze goes straight to his bat. Oh baby, now there's a pretty girl.

NATURALLY

[peepeepants]

Dick first is not a way of walking. It is a way of life and all Negan has known for what feels like an eternity now. Of course he lets his dick decide where they go; Mister Grey can fuck off. Unless he wants to work for Negan, but tame bondage gear is not always helpful when warding off the undead.

Anyway.

Lucille gets a jovial twirl before he settles her against his shoulder, looking around at his options.

It's pretty clear the super fine ass in the corner looking at his dirty, thirsty girl is the top option. For now, anyway. So he walks over, all lean, raising his eyebrows and flicking his tongue across his lips in greeting. Because that's the kinda place he's in right now, damn it.

"Hey darlin'. Like what you see?"

He casually twirls Lucille as he asks. It's okay if people appreciate her, absolutely, because she's fucking awesome.

shady cheap bar for sure

[brandishes]

( Beth probably doesn't immediately look like she fits in sitting on the stool of a dive bar. She's decked out in relatively formal office wear and a severe, scraped back ponytail, but she's also nursing an excessively large glass of whiskey with an expression like she might just seen a ghost, so you know. Not really that out of place at all, actually.

She's content to just sit there and mind her own business, drinking away, until a guy walks in with a goddamn bat at his side. And not only a bat, but one with barbed wire wrapped around the top. It's ridiculous, and whether it's the ( ex ) cop in her or just morbid curiosity, she's compelled to make conversation. )

Buy you a drink?

( Beth is, admittedly, not the friendliest in the world. Her mouth twists into a direction that's more sarcastic smirk than any kind of smile, but she's at least trying not to give the impression that she's lowkey judging the guy. )

[peepeepants]

[She's extremely friendly compared to what Negan's used to. His inner circle has deadened eyes. He put them there, of course, but he knows what that can mean. Tries to, anyway, sometimes he is wrong. Sometimes. But Beth, right now, seems an angel. He's so familiar with fear and hate and fearful hate and hateful fear that no sarcasm or weird twitchy lips is gonna put him off.

Doesn't hurt she's a stone cold babe.]

Far be it from me to tell a grown ass woman what she can and cannot do with her own damn money. [He puts his hands up and nods. Agrees. Look at this fine progressive gentleman, not arguing about how he needs to buy the drinks because he is Man.] I'll take a scotch on the rocks, thank you.

[Ice, he's realized, was a thing he missed having just whenever. All his drinks are on the rocks lately. Probably will be for the first month or so. Attention turns back to Beth, smiling and holding out his hand.]

Very kind of you. Name's Negan.

for pupper;

[peepeepants]

It doesn't take Negan long to notice the giant, looming face of Daryl (people have last names?) looking down at him. In fact, he's heading to his new home on his first evening in when he notices the advertisements. He stands beneath one of them with Lucille tucked against his neck and laughs, low and echoing in the back of his throat. He licks his lips. People hurry by.

He actually goes to his given job. He does "surprisingly well" according to his boss. Children begin to wrap their little toy bats with pipe cleaners. Lucille has potential as a brand. All the while, Negan does a bit of research into just about everything. This Network, what being an imPort can get him, how to best seek out others, what's up with this Daryl thing, how he can give himself the upper hand. How to change a diaper without kids rolling off the table. Why kids hate vegetables. The usual research.

He collects numbers, names. He makes calls. He gets through where he needs to go during one particularly pleasant nap time and discusses a bit about his world, sort of, what it's like. His interest in the premise, not the man. He keeps it professional, stays convincing, rewards himself with a juice box when it pays off and a meeting comes to fruition.

A juice box and one of those chocolate dunking cups, naturally.

Daryl warrants the good stuff, so Negan is careful to wash his clothes, iron what needs ironing, even buff his shoes. Lucille gets a good shine, too. He's explained her on the phone. Slightly. Explained that she helped him get through his own falling apart world. That she's important, not just a weapon. More of a tool if they've gotta use such unpleasant terminology.

A bunch of bullshit to get his Daryl back.

He comes in ten minutes early, shaved and clean, all leather and swagger and big smile and strong handshake. All convincing gratitude, ready to lean Lucille against whatever chair he's given if so, or against his legs, or to hold her in place on his shoulder if they stand.

"Real glad you agreed to meet with me. Nice to meetcha."

He's just a down to Earth stand up sort of guy! With a bat covered in barbed wire. Yes!

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl was there because his manager insisted that he meet this new imPort. Man named Negan. He'd called in, interested in the show and premise as it apparently dealt with the sort of life he'd ended up living when his own world went to hell. Something Daryl could appreciate. Understand the desire to talk with someone who'd been through the same things. Not that he really cared to, but he understood it.

And his manager felt it might be good PR if Daryl got a more diverse cast of guests for season 2. imPort guests. The more they could guarantee when talks happened, the more likely a second season was to be greenlighted. Which was his manager's goal more than his. But well, he'd agreed to it in the first place so it was his own fault.

He'd been informed that Negan carried a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire around. Like Daryl's own collection of knives and his crossbow, it was allowed because of his imPort status. A part of who they were.

He greeted Negan with a firm handshake, a little thrown by the manner of his dress, which he didn't bother to try and hide. The once over he gave the man was very obvious. Despite this, he didn't actually say anything aloud. Daryl himself was dressed in a clean checkered button up and blue jeans that were only just starting to get holes in the knees. His vest - the one Negan would likely recognize as being Dwight's - was actually hung on the back of a chair in the room. Daryl had been in the middle of getting his make-up and hair done for an interview and didn't want any product getting on it. Was a mess to get off. And he wasn't really used to it yet, either but it was a thing he now had to deal with.

A pair of ravens - actual, living ravens - were perched on some hefty branches obviously brought in for them. They cawed a couple times and shifted like they were getting ready to take flight. But a sharp whistle and a quick glare from Daryl kept them where they were before he turned back to Negan.

"Sure," he answered, lifting his chin in greeting as he let go of Negan's hand. "Was told you had ta deal with the same sorta shit. Ain't seen you around, before. You just port in this week sometime? Or been here a while and finally settled?"

The Daryl Negan knew wasn't much of a talker. The Daryl that had been here for a year and change, had been learning to talk and make conversation little by little. He was trying, at least.

Grocery store

[andtherevolution]

Utena is a simple girl with simple needs. All she wants is some soap, some shampoo, and some idiot proof instant food. That's not too much to ask for, is it? Unfortunately, that guy hovering in front of soap is taking an awful long time, and he's hoooooly crap that's a bat, that is a bat wrapped in barbed wire right there. It's just like the weirdo from the... wait, hold on. That is the weirdo from the batting cages!

And she's staring right at him. Ooh, awkward. Is it too late to just back off? Probably. So she steps forward with the subtle stiffness of someone who's trying way too hard to act casual, and clears her throat.

"Uh... do you need any help, Mister...?"

Maybe he's one of those guys who's from the middle ages or outer space or medieval outer space. Maybe this is the first time he's ever seen soap. Who knows! It is a mystery.

[peepeepants]

He turns at the voice. So does Lucille, naturally. A bit of light catches some of the wire and there is a glint. Like one of those anime shings of light. Yeah. Same thing. On the barbed wire bat.

"You know what, Cotton Candy, maybe you can help." Congrats on the nickname, Utena. Negan holds up the soap he's been puzzling over. "Goat milk?"

Goat milk in soap. But how. But why. Tell him your goat knowledge, girlfriend.

De Chima

[shifting]

[the pamphlets are Sookie's idea, cute but informative, with a little photo of a smiling Sam and blurbs about who he is and what he'd plan to do as Ammbassador of De Chima, if his fellow imPorts will have him. He refuses at first, laughs them off, but compromises when he finds out she's already had some of the damn things printed. Sunny and helpful and impossible to resist, that's Sookie.

He compromises, agrees to distribute them so he can meet 'n greet like a good boy, but also does so right outside Merlotte's so he can just as easily disappear into his office if he needs to.

Look at him, making deals already - Mitch would be proud.

Negan stands out, between his swagger and leather, and that menacing piece at his side. Damn, Sam thinks, cocking a brow. Sometimes you really don't need to see that tattoo to know an imPort when you see one.]

Hey there. [a broad grin, Southern warmth and an offered pamphlet. 'SAM MERLOTTE FOR DE CHIMA AMBASSADOR' is printed on the front, right above a photo of him crouched and smiling, petting a dog. (Sookie's little joke.)]

I'm Sam Merlotte, runnin' for Ambassador of De Chima. If you're an imPort, I'd love to have your vote on election day.

[peepeepants]

[Negan and his menacing piece approach, taking that pamphlet with his gloved hand. He holds it out at enough distance fitting someone his age who might need some visual aid. Looks at it with narrowed eyes, tilts the pamphlet a bit, nods to show he's listening. And he is. So is Lucille, who is the only one who gets any vote for anything ever in Negan's book. Too bad, Sammy.]

I see that. You got a fetching second in command there. [The dog, he means, so clever. Fetching. Hilarious.] So what's any of that mean? Being an ambassador. What'll you do for the people?

Outside Maurtia Falls Memorial Library

[cleptes]

((ooc: Lemme know if this doesn't work!))

The Memorial Library was probably somewhere that Bela should have visited more than once. She had made a monetary contribution and it seemed strange for her not to go back to see how the place was doing ever since it opened.

She emerged from the building with a few books tucked beneath her right arm (borrowed, not stolen by the way) and her communication device held in her left hand, quickly tapping out a message to someone. Bela was a very busy woman, and in an ideal world she probably should have waited until she was stationary before sending her message.

Her foot missed the last step, causing Bela to stumble and drop her books. It was a miracle that she didn't fall herself, mostly thanks to her quick reflexes and enhanced agility - the latter courtesy of the porter.

"Shit!"

Bela doesn't say it quietly as she bends down to pick up the books up from the ground, hoping that they weren't too damaged.

[peepeepants]

She reaches for the last book too late; a gloved hand appears out of seemingly nowhere to pick it up first. Except not really nowhere because there are boots and slim jeans and a leather jacket and boom. There come that boy, looking over whatever she's checked out with Lucille casually resting against the crook of his neck.

"Whoopsie daisies." He flips it and wipes some dirt off, fixing a page flicked in the middle. "Gotta be careful or the government'll come after you."

He holds the book out, smiling.

De Chima

[morethan084]

[It's late and Daisy is heading towards the porter to head home after working at the bar and grill until close. All she can think about is going to bed, at least until something distracts her from those thoughts. Slowing down when she spots someone hovering by the closed church, it only takes a few more steps in the direction of said church to realize what's going on.

Her guess? The guy is really, really drunk considering he's peeing on the side of a house of worship.]

You couldn't pee in some bushes?

[peepeepants]

[Some people just don't have any manners, Daisy. Some of them just don't give a shit about religion. It could go either way. It could go both ways.

Negan looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. She cute.]

You can pee in some bushes if you want. Trying to see my dick?

[He doesn't SOUND drunk. Like, in his tone.]

batting range

[wreckshavoc]

Generally speaking, Veronica loathed not having a choice in where she ended up and it kept happening to her. First with Riverdale and now apparently she found herself in Florida. She couldn't be sure and needed to roam around trying to find the truth. Not only with the location but with a multitude of other things as well. With a shake of her head, she eventually found herself at the batting range of all places. While she intended to quickly move on, the spectacle taking place made her pause.

The guy had a bat with barbed wire. Talk about overcompensating for something.

Moving off to the side, she waited for him to walk over. And a leather jacket? Really? It had to be a 100+ outside with the humidity and she nearly felt as if she would melt at any moment. Then again, she couldn't talk much with the dress she couldn't had on and the high heels. Not really the best outfit to be walking around a batting range.

"You always put on such a show or are we just lucky today?" she asked, her arms casually folded against her chest.

[peepeepants]

Lucille is still a bit smoking from playing with fire and Negan is barely breaking a sweat. He spent plenty time dressed to the nines (his idea of to the nines, anyway) while running around the woods of Georgia; he was more than used to heat and humidity. A person could adapt if they really put their mind to it, and Negan was good at putting his mind to things.

He stood out. Just like Veronica. So of course he gravitated toward her, smiling big and toothy when she spoke first.

"Oh, you're lucky all right!" Because all women love Negan, yes indeed, especially his multiple wives who want him dead. That's how love works, right? Right. "You play sports in them shoes?"

He brings up a shoe, knocking Lucille against it.

"Little bit more heel than I've got."

batting range

[compressions]

Richard has the misfortune of walking by the batting range at the same time Negan was practicing. Of course, he was completely safe, because there was a cage in between him and any stray baseballs that might go in his direction. But he didn't really know enough about sports to think about that, so when he sees a baseball flying towards him out of the corner of his eye, he ducks.

And falls to the ground.

And lays there, unmoving. He's not even sure of the situation right now. Is there going to be pain? Was he dead? In actuality, he was completely fine because nothing hit him, and he'll realize that.

Eventually.

[peepeepants]

Well well.

Guess who sees Richard laying over there like a slug? It's Negan. Of course it's Negan. He takes note of the fact the guy is just. There. Like he's dead or something. Christ Jesus but it's definitely time to mosey on out. After another ball, that is, which Negan misses and picks up, squeezing and releasing it in bare hand as he makes his way to Richard on the ground.

THUNK!

The baseball lands an inch away from Richard's ear and rolls to make love to his shoulder, and then there's two muddy boots because Negan is standing there, watching, waiting, smiling like a dickhead.

De Chima

[maevelous]

Maeve had gotten off her shift at Merlotte's and chose to spend it at another bar. Oh, she could certainly drink the supply at Sam's place, but she didn't want to drain their stock. And besides, she could easily get the same sort of thing for free elsewhere. After having suckered a few poor, hopeless saps into getting her drinks and leaving them hanging, Maeve heads outside for a smoke -- leaning against the building and lighting up.

She takes a drag before spotting Negan -- and his bat -- doing god knows what. But whatever it is, she doesn't say a word. As a matter of fact, she just wordlessly offers her pack of cigarettes his way so he could take one. He seemed like he could use a smoke.

[peepeepants]

Negan is watching. Taking a breaking from the loudness he's just walked out of, instead taking in the way of life about this place. How people move or don't move, how things go about in this world. He keeps thinking he'll spot some shambling piece of shit what needs a good thunking on the head...but he never does.

It's strange. Even a man like Negan needs some time to adapt to a whole different world, similar to what he used to know, to what then became a memory. A goal.

Eyebrows go up at the offer, and Negan reaches over to take one with a quiet thank you. If she holds a lighter out, he'll happily let her light it for him, if she's so inclined. Otherwise he'll do it himself. And then, quite obviously, he enjoys that first drag as if he hasn't had one in years.

"Nice night, ain't it."

Nice night for a smoke with a sexy sexy lady, always.

MFPHAC - Maurtia Falls

[slightlyoffchilt]

[The Maurtia Falls Psychiatric Hospital for Abnormal Conditions.

After hours. Chilton had released Reggie for the day, and he himself had an hour (maybe two) more of analysis to write up, before heading home -- follow-up on Kavinsky, personal writings on Tony Stark, consideration of Bruce Wayne's offer regarding Jonathan Crane. The doors were still open, a couple doctors still mingling with their cases. And with the reprisal of Jack back in security, he hadn't anticipated any conflicts after visiting hours had ticked to a close.]

[peepeepants]

[Negan has Prepared.

His clothes were washed beforehand, his shoes and leather jacket shined, buffed. Even his one glove seems fresh. The metal parts of his belt have a sparkle, too. He's shaved. His scarf folds just so. He wears a light spritz of cologne — enough to draw a nose in, curious, not to overwhelm. It's perhaps the least overwhelming thing on him, aside from shoelaces.

Lucille is the same. Cleaned and tenderly cared for, tossed over his shoulder. His is a casual, supremely confident stance, the look worn well without being weathered.

All this swagger stands at the front desk, rifling through business cards. He knows she's here. Works here. He flips things about, careful and methodical. He looks at the phone. He could probably call her office. Figure it out after a few wrong numbers. Like, who's gonna stop him? Seems the secretary's already left for the day...]