The churchyard dirt still clung to my shoes. A death lingers in more ways than one, or so I'd come to realize. The others, those who knew they would be taken care of and who had no true new weight on their shoulders, were gathering together to laugh and give thanks to a life with Judge_Holden. I could hear them whisper hurredly amongst themselves, stiffle smiles and run for cover as fat droplets of rain started to fall. Popping up the collar on my duster, I hunched my shoulders and lit a cigarette. The orange tip flared to life in the gray afternoon and I stood surveying the crowd. Most had run to their cars, dodging the newly formed puddles and calling out plans to meet at nearby pub, a favourite of the Judge.

Not all however had done so. There was one woman, standing at the far edge of the cemetary, her long hair being swept up and around her shoulders by the growing wind. She was striking in her grief, though it was only evident in the far off stare of her eyes, and from that alone, I knew her. Ellie, the Judge's Right Hand, had waited for a moment alone with him. Loyalty above all else was a staggering sight, one not often seen, and I felt a bit like a vouyer for seeing it. Turning to go, my coat tails flapping slightly with the movement, I caught her attention. I paused waiting. Gracefully, with much effort, she inclinded her head, her pale face glowing in the darkening light, and quietly turned back to her fallen leader.

I had seen enough. Making my way across the cemetary, careful not to tread too hard on headstones, I pondered what I now knew. Judge was gone. His family was in various states of shock and grief, and I had to set them to rights. The Godfather trusted me to rebuild, to make this new family another cornerstone of Los Angeles, and though I mourned the man like a brother, I could not stop any longer to mark his passing. There were deeds to be done. There were pockets to grease, drugs to push, family members to recruit. The life of a Don never slows or wavers. Even in death, Don Judge_Holden still pushed and guided and lead his people. It was my job to let him rest.

When I finally reached my car, my pant legs sodden and clinging to me, I turned for one last glance. She moved like a wraith amonst the headstones. The length of her black dress trailing in the rain covered grass, and her hair wildly dancing in the wind, Ellie looked like a force of nature. She no longer looked the part of grief stricken friend, the tireless walking dead, but that of Callisto, goddess and warrior. A look of fierce determination and dedication marred her pale face and a smile crept ruefully to mine. She would be my warrior now, a thought which was both sad and cause for a moment of calm.

Glancing around, the quiet of the graves mixed with an appreciation for who these people were and what they stood for, and I knew the direction my family would take. We, The Walking Dead, would rise up from the sickly sweet veil dirt and never falter. If we were all prepared to die, as so many had, then rise up... rise up... and rise up, nothing would ever see our equal. Smiling to myself, I turned, opened the door of my car, and slid effortlessly inside. The leather seat gave way gently under my weight and as I closed the door, I took solice from the reprieve of the rain. I had many errands to run before the flowers on Judge's grave began to wither. I had much to do indeed.

I am with you.

I am always and always of the city of our angels.

I am always and always... The Morrigan.

(P.S.  Thank you boss for letting me introduce the world to The Walking Dead from your point of view.  I had a lot of fun writing that up, though it made me miss Judge something fierce, and I look forward to doing many more future threads.  Cheers.)

wow, i muss say... that's a very well written story of these current events... i like the part explaining how Ellie moved like a wraith a force of nature... :):):):):)

As I said before in private, congratulations on this new venture, Gaius. Sometimes life takes a sad turn, but from it comes new opportunity and new hope. You are that new hope, and you are taking this new opportunity. Use the grief you feel to fuel yourselves to do better; build something great out of this chance.

Once more, congratulations to you, Gaius, and to all of the Walking Dead syndicate.

Godmother, a word of wisdom from you puts a smile on my face.

Gaius lights up a smoke and grins at Marietta... if only if only...

Wow someone authed this one aswell? What's next someone from Clippers bloodline? ....Oh wait.

Someone is authed when someone is deserving.

Times are hard enough as it is without people publically second guessing our new Don.

Don Gaius is rebuilding our family and doing a fine job... hold your tongue should you think to say otherwise.

Excellent thread.