I'm his advisor.

[youkilloryoudie]

[[I’m around, just very distracted and tired.

Love you all~! <3

[hisadvisor]

She hadn't seen him around Alexandria ever since Tara and her had moved in together, so Andrea decided to pay Milton a long overdue visit to see how he was doing after their gruesome introduction to Negan.

Milton had been sitting, alone and in the darkness, at his desk in the space he’d been allocated as a makeshift laboratory, adjacent to the infirmary where he would often assist. 

Most of the time he had to himself would be spent like this, quietly reflecting and processing his thoughts, but this time especially was quite different. He was replaying the horrific scenes over and over in his mind, a deep knot of anxiety rooting itself in the pit of his stomach and an uneasy chill settling over the rest of his body. 

In an odd way, he still regrets leaving Woodbury behind with Andrea, despite knowing him staying would have been a death sentence. Even his feeble attempt at mutiny had nearly cost him his life. 

Yet here he was, briefly feeling safe and at ease with familiar company in the Alexandria Safe-Zone, and met with yet another threat. A man Milton considered even more ruthless than The Governor. At least The Governor attempted to mask the dark goings-on of his settlement with a veil of idyllic suburbia whereas Negan flaunted the terror, revelled in it. 

So occupied with his thoughts, he doesn’t notice that he has a visitor, and likely won’t notice until they’ve stirred him back to reality. 

@hcrrisoned

[hisadvisor]

thelcstsister:

“I s’pose.” She nodded slowly, looking around as she tucked her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans. “As much as one could settle nowadays, I guess.” Sally was highly suspicious of everyone in this town but she knew she had to play nice to get any answers. She was basically undercover at this point, luckily at the end of the world, it was much easier in an area where none of these people could identify her as a cop and bust her balls for it.

She squinted against the sun, turning to face the man. “You’re uh….Milton? Governor’s right hand guy from what I hear?”

Milton nods lightly, agreeing wholeheartedly with her statement. Even with Woodbury’s walls and guard duty operating like clock work, the place was truly only a farcical emulation of an old normal long since gone, an idyllic suburbia that can feel unnatural when the new nature of things is the dead not staying dead. 

That didn’t stop many others for just taking it for granted and assuming the best of the settlement without question. 

“That’s right. Milton Mamet. And I wouldn’t call myself The Governor’s ‘right hand,’ per se. I’ll leave that role to those more comfortable with the guns. I’m more his advisor than anything.”

“My sincerest apologies, but remind me of your name again?”

[hisadvisor]

ofhericts:

“Were you friends?” Sitting crossed-legged on the sofa, the boy’s eyes lit up with curiosity as he leaned forward. “Was he like me?” Hoping to finally learn more about his creator, since his mom’s kept delaying to tell him more than the fact that he was gone.

“I-... we were... very close. I had known him since the beginning.” 

Milton is starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable. It’s hard for him to talk about The Governor in a way that both wasn’t a lie but also appropriate for Andrea’s terms of secrecy. Talking about The Governor in general was strange for Milton, as he struggled to reconcile the memories of the man he knew versus the man The Governor became. 

“He was like you,” Milton answers quickly, but as he continues to speak the words come slower, hesitation hanging palpably between each word. “In... some ways. At... one point.”

He then inhales sharply through his nose, a breath Milton lets out in a heavy, exhausted sigh. He walks closer to Dale to shorten the distance between them and crouches slightly to more directly address the other.

“Dale, I’m going to tell you something very, very important, okay? I want you to promise me you’ll do something for me. Can you?”

[mss-mahogany]

Reblog if your muse would risk their life to save a loved one

[elyamartell]

The Walking Dead characters + goodness, kindness and heroism:

“[The thing that] we learn in a time of pestilence: that there are more things to admire in men than to despise.”

[hisadvisor]

oneeyedbadass:

This was tedious, and boring.  Carl didn’t know why his dad put him in charge of this daunting task.  Was it because some of these people were from Woodbury and the Sanctuary and his dad didn’t really trust them?  Or was it because his dad didn’t want him going off and sneaking beyond the walls with Enid again?  But, it wasn’t just himself that was in there.  Michonne was there, Rosita, Father Gabriel.  Even Eugene stood by the door, glancing outside every so often.  Carl was the lucky one that got to watch over some of the other’s from Woodbury.  It almost felt like decades since that place fell, since the prison fell.

His single hue glanced down at the table where the pile of bullets were laid out in front of him.  He needed to count them, make sure they were all good for use and then restock them.  Then he needed to record their inventory.

Huffing out his annoyance, Carl’s eye shot up as Milton mentioned his dad running a tight ship.  “It’s important work.  He’s a good leader,” Carl agreed with a nod.  “He cares about the people we’ve helped, they’re family.  And we could’ve helped the others, too.” It was true.  All of the people that fell because of one man’s greed, it was a shame.

And yet, maybe not so much because they never would’ve found this place.

Carl’s eye watches Milton for a moment.  “Why’d you stay with him?”  As if he spoke his name, bad things would happen.

Milton pauses, lowering the clipboard and pencil he was using to take stock of numbers. He opens his mouth to answer, hesitates, then looks away from Carl, shame beginning to colour his expression.

“I knew him. Since the beginning of it all. Before he became The Governor. You’d probably never believe it since you only ever saw the most horrific parts of him, but he truly was a good man at one point. I thought... I thought some of that man was still in him somewhere.”

He shakes his head at his own foolishness before setting the clipboard and pencil on the table and grabbing a few of the already examined, counted, and refilled ammo boxes to place them back on their appropriate shelves on the other side of the small room. 

“By the end of it all, I guess I only thought I knew him,” he says to Carl over his shoulder. “And, really, so long as I kept looking the other way while he and the... others... that were willing to get their hands dirty, they kept me safe. I’d be dead if I disobeyed.”

Milton neglects to mention for now that he very well almost did die when he attempted to kill The Governor. 

[hisadvisor]

thiingswelose:

What Negan saw in Milton was beyond Dwight’s scope. The man fancied himself some kind of scientist even though his so-called research hardly, if ever, contributed to their survival. Today was going to be different, though. With Negan’s permission, Dwight was going to take Milton out for a little tour outside the safety of their walls to remind him his efforts better to start proving useful otherwise it was only a matter of time until Negan found another replacement to work the infirmary. Lot’s of other people around perfectly capable of cleaning scrapes and putting on bandaids, after all.

“You’re comin’ with me,” he says dryly. “Boss’s orders.” Impatient, he grabbed the other man by the shoulder and forced him to starting walking outside the infirmary.

Before Milton even had the chance to respond, he finds himself being guided (read: forced) out of the room. He’s quick to catch his balance and walk on his own (despite the “assistance”) at a lively pace to keep up with Dwight, having had more than enough experience with being treated roughly, thrown around, manhandled. 

Everyone’s regular doormat. 

“Where are we going?” Milton hazards to ask, voice surprisingly calm and steady despite the (unsurprising) hostile treatment. He knew better than to question any of Negan’s orders, but he could, at the very least, attempt to have a better idea of what’s in store for him.

[hisadvisor]

t-chambler:

Her heart is in the pit of her stomach when he speaks. If this man had just followed through… maybe, she’d still have her family– No, if she hadn’t met Brian, she’d be dead. Her reanimated father would have bitten into her and she wouldn’t have learned to strike the brain–

But, Lilly and Meghan. They weren’t supposed to be at that prison and now they were gone. And Brian was… gone.

“He caused a lot of pain. To a lot of people.” Her mind lingered on Andrea for a moment, and then to the man in front of her. “You tried to do the right thing.” Her lips pressed into a firm line. “Sorry it didn’t work out, sorry you got hurt.” She leaned closer toward him, hand clasped her shoulder. “I couldn’t kill anyone either.” She still hadn’t. “We rolled up to that prison and I… I ran– I get it– you’re not like him.” Then, she let out a deep sigh. “You go on because they can’t.” She swallowed hard. “You honor his victims by living, by being free from his grasp.”

Milton listens to Tara’s words carefully, taking them in, taking them to heart, and remembering to fully process them later. He agrees and he conveys it by swallowing hard and nodding firmly. 

“Yeah,” he replies softly, a small, sad smile coming to his lips. “Wishful thinking does not do anyone any favours. The present matters far more than the past.”

Milton isn’t sure if he’s entirely convinced by Tara’s wisdom, but he’d be lying if her words hadn’t moved him, at the very least. 

“I’m being too hard on myself. Blaming myself for things that were, realistically, out of my control? Doesn’t help either. I, uh, I’m not entirely sure how this became you making me feel better when I had intended the opposite, but thank you. You are a good person, Tara.”

[youkilloryoudie]

[[Ok, so, I’ve got a handful of replies, asks, and starters on Gov to do and I think everything on Milton is queued but other than that I think I’ve pretty much otherwise got everything back together since my great return. Since the evening snuck up on my so fast, I’m off to bed now. Have a good one, everyone~!

[ofhcriots]

“Do you know my daddy?” Dale heard them talking earlier about something Milton wasn’t supposed to tell him.

[hisadvisor]

“Uh... I did, yes. A long time ago,” he answers honestly, figuring for the time being it wouldn’t be right to lie to Dale. Milton had, understandably so, promised Andrea to not talk about it, but so long as he didn’t divulge any secrets or specifics, surely this was harmless.

[hisadvisor]

The idea of this popped into my head and I couldn’t focus on writing until I made it so here lmaooo

[hisadvisor]

t-chambler:

The wound is still relatively fresh.

And she hadn’t had too much time to mourn what she had been through in a short amount of time– she hadn’t had that luxury; between the fall of the prison and Terminus, she hadn’t been given the time. And this place- would it just be another trap? Would they even be safe here?

Tara eyed the man, brows raised gently. She hadn’t expected an apology and certainly not from this man. “Sorry?” He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for, but fully. She crossed her arms and took in a deep breath. “You got nothing to deal sorry for– he was… it’s done. What he did is done.”

Milton glances up at her, then sighs softly and looks away again. 

“I tried to kill him. The one time I tried to be brave. He caught the knife and stabbed me instead. If I’d just... stood up, done something earlier, done anything... I might’ve-... might’ve been able to stop so much pain.” 

He scrunches up his face in irritation before removing his glasses and wiping away some condensation beginning to develop on the lenses from stress sweat beading on his brow. Replacing the frames on his face again, he works himself up to meet Tara’s gaze again. 

“You’re right. It’s done. What matters is moving forward. I just... can’t. I don’t know how yet.”

[hisadvisor]

Milton swallowed around a nervous lump that was forming in his throat as soon as he saw Dwight enter the infirmary. He didn’t like needing to spend time with Negan or any of his henchmen, but that didn’t stop him from doing the administrative jobs he was assigned or helping out in then infirmary from time to time in order to keep his life intact. 

“Something wrong, Dwight?”

starter for @thiingswelose​

[hisadvisor]

“I’m sorry.”

Milton hadn’t talked much to the members of Rick’s group he recognized - or even those new ones for that matter - when they had made their way to Alexandria. He largely kept to himself, kept his head down and did as he was told, and tried hard not to step on any toes nor make any friends or bring up any touchy subjects, but that didn’t stop his history with The Governor - and now living with those that man had actively harmed - from eating Milton alive. 

“I don’t know what The Governor, er, Brian... or whatever he called himself, did to you and your family, but I feel the need to apologize. I feel... somewhat responsible for his actions.”

starter for @t-chambler​

[hisadvisor]

“Your father runs a tight ship,” Milton notes, awkwardly attempting to make conversation despite their task of counting and recording ammunition having already been going quite smoothly in coordinated silence.

Milton was rather pleased that despite having already arrived in Alexandria before Rick’s group, during the beginning of the surprising reunion, and then under the new leadership, he had managed to prove himself different and far removed enough from The Governor’s previous regime that tensions had largely cooled, but that didn’t completely erase the tenuous past. Due to this, Milton felt even less of a real community member, more alienated than he typically felt in social settings, despite a general understanding among all the survivors that he shared little in common with The Governor or his heinous actions. 

starter for @oneeyedbadass​

[hisadvisor]

“How can I help?” Milton asks, looking up from the stock records he was mulling over as he hears someone enter the makeshift infirmary. Though he was by no means any kind of medical professional, his passion for growing medicinal herbs and brewing teas meant that he was rather adept at coming up with natural remedies for your run-of-the-mill aches, pains, and maladies to help offset the need to use any of the precious harder medicinal supplies. 

starter for @peletier​