dum_spiro: (Default)
[personal profile] dum_spiro
((OOC: Set in The Walking Dead TV canon, spoilers for Season 5, Episode 1. All are welcome, if you're not canon familiar this is a zombie-overtaken version of rural Georgia, outside Atlanta.))

***

[The smoldering, overrun compound that used to be Terminus is left behind as Carol jumps the fence and lets herself out, taking advantage of the heavy blanket flopped over barbed wire that Rick's group must have used. She ignores the screams of those still living and the inhuman growls of walkers as they feed themselves into a frenzy. It might seem cruel of her, if one was blissfully unaware of the goings-on inside those fences just before the flames and rampaging began.]

[A brief glance at the surroundings, assessing the footprints and parted underbrush (she picked up a few tracking skills... here and there... ) and quickly she determines which way they went. Carol was quite serious when she told Tyrese she has no intention of staying, but first she has to find them. Make sure her efforts were worth it and they all got out, and most importantly reunite Rick and Carl with Judith, Sasha with Tyrese. So she goes, stomach churning despite how calm she'd felt while unleashing destruction on Terminus and its twisted population.]

[She hasn't quite let go of the hope that she won't have to leave, but she's prepared to.]

[Her face and hair are caked with red clay, and she's wearing clothing covered in entrails -- not just spatter, but as though she rolled and splashed inside a fresh, open corpse. In one hand is an automatic rifle, in the other a crossbow. She looks like she's been through a brutal war.]

[She has. She won.]

Date: 2014-10-17 08:32 pm (UTC)
dealt_hand: (high voltage)
From: [personal profile] dealt_hand
[These woods are getting mighty crowded all of a sudden. Merle hasn’t been out here much longer than she has, armed with nothing but a filched pistol, grabbed off a dying Termite as he got the hell out of Dodge. It ain’t what he’d prefer, but best laid plans and all that shit. Merle had stayed out of town when everyone went in-- half as a lookout, half because no way in hell was he walking into that place of his own volition. He’d said, once, that the man who came at him calm and smiling with his hands in his pockets, that was the fucker who’d scare him-- and the ruins of the charnel house behind him, well, just goes to show that now and then he knows what he’s talking about.]

[He’d been in the middle of trying to figure out how the fuck to spring everyone, once it’d become clear that all those smiling faces weren’t so friendly underneath, and all he’d managed to do was get himself picked up by patrols. Fucking figures. It’s a miracle, if he still believes in those, that they didn’t stuff him in the freezer right away. Missing his hand and still on the weak side he’s not much good, which is why he’s holed up in the hollow of a tree right now, waiting for the smoke to clear a little before he heads out on his way to look for Daryl and the rest of ‘em. He’d booked it just as soon as he was able when the chaos started, not knowing or caring how or why, just running for freedom like an animal. He ain’t proud, but not like he coulda done much if he’d stayed in town. Rick and his crew-- and Daryl, mostly Daryl in his estimation-- they’re strong enough he trusts them to fight their own way out, he’s just gotta find them.]

[But here we got something else, a walking fucking nightmare dripping gore and carrying his brother’s bow. At a distance and with all that on her, he doesn’t recognize Carol. He just waits, and he lines up his shot-- aiming low, base of the spine, he doesn’t want a kill ‘cos he wants answers, and if they ain’t good ones he wants to make this slow-- but he doesn’t take it. He hides and he waits til she’s close enough and looking the other way, and then he calls out in a tone as sweet as poison:]


Now I know that ain’t yours.

[There better be a damn good reason you got Daryl’s weapon there, stranger.]

Date: 2014-10-17 08:58 pm (UTC)
dealt_hand: (done dirt cheap)
From: [personal profile] dealt_hand
[Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Peletier.]

Well, hell, [he crows, taking the gun off her and lifting his hand with an expression of perfect innocence. Now don’t you be too eager to rid yourself of ol’ Merle, he’s the closest you got to a friend in the vicinity.] Don’t you look nice.

[He might’ve given her the benefit of the doubt if he’d’ve recognized her. Merle’s never quite sure if Daryl’s hanging around her to try and get into her pants or just clutch her apron strings, but you’d have to be a fool not to notice they got something. It might be something he resents on principle ‘cos he doesn’t much like how much attention Daryl wastes on people who aren’t his kin, but it’s there.]

You seen ‘im?

[Daryl. And the rest of their people, whatever. They’re all good friends these days, right?]

Date: 2014-10-17 11:36 pm (UTC)
dealt_hand: (pick up the phone i'm here alone)
From: [personal profile] dealt_hand
[ Officer Friendly might, he tries real hard to pretend Merle is one of them. Most of the rest of them don't know enough to hold what she did against her. He gets up, stifling a cough. ]

Let me get that, [ he says, nodding at the bow. It's as close to being his as hers, no time to argue about the will when they don't know if there's a body. ]

What about the cavalry?

[ She must have seen them, whoever attacked. It'd be good to have a little warning if they've left the all too literal frying pan for the fire. ]

Date: 2014-10-17 11:56 pm (UTC)
dealt_hand: (just ring 36 24 36 hey)
From: [personal profile] dealt_hand
[In his absolutely minimal defense, Merle is marginally less of a sleaze than he used to be. Daryl's long since made it clear he ain't gonna budge, and if Merle doesn't want to lose his brother, he's got to play nice. Either way, there's no question about his loyalties in this instance.]

No shit?

[He slings the bow over his back and follows along beside her, keeping his eyes on the trail. He'll pipe up if she makes a wrong turn.]

Now you don't mean to tell me you did all that on your lonesome.

[Spill it, lady, who're you working with? Because he does not believe for a moment that she managed that without help.]

Date: 2014-10-18 12:10 am (UTC)
dealt_hand: (i'm always home)
From: [personal profile] dealt_hand
We-ell,

[he drawls, stretching the word and sucking his teeth thoughtfully to punctuate it. Does he believe her? Honest, he's not sure. Could just be. He's got the bad habit of thinking of Carol the way she used to be-- mousy and under her husband's thumb.]

Ain't you just as cold as a witch's tit,

[he mutters, though there's something weirdly complimentary. He's impressed.]

Date: 2014-10-18 12:31 am (UTC)
dealt_hand: (concrete shoes)
From: [personal profile] dealt_hand
[She's full of surprises. Could just be Carol's snapped, and that's interesting at least. She might not be the mouse she once was but even so, there's a world of difference between growing a backbone and growing the balls to get your hands that dirty. Shit, no one in Rick's group gets their hands that dirty. That's why Merle doesn't fit in.]

Heard enough I'm glad I didn't stick around for dinner.

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screw you timeline i do what i want

Date: 2014-10-18 02:58 am (UTC)
weakshallinherit: (✘ everything i see is red)
From: [personal profile] weakshallinherit
[ It was time to move on, at last, to leave behind his fortified encampment up in Kings County, the place he'd laid to rest his wife, his son, laid to rest the entirety of the life he'd once known. He lost himself there, fell into the depths of darkness, trying to find the path he was meant to take, to serve the purpose he was meant to serve. Clear. That was it. He'd been meant to clear. To make things right.

And then Rick had come back - he'd come back, and he knew him. He knew him, and he was there. Not on the radio, not like he promised, but there. Rick had been right in front of him, his face had been there.

And that was the start of it.

The start of a turn in his path, a way back out the other side of what he'd been through, winding its way through the darkness. He spent a long time down there - a long time - and he wasn't out of it yet. But he was far enough he could see again, start to make out the world around him. And it was time to move forward. So here he was, in the woods. He was far from trusting anyone, those signs they'd put up, but he had to give it a look. He had to see.

He'd been lurking on the edges just in time for all hell to break loose. He watches, making his way along the edge, and that's when he spots her. Looks like a walker, really, but with the weaponry...

His mask is still on as he approaches her, his voice reverberating inside of it. He's ready to grab his weapon, but he hasn't yet. Just ready. ]


You come out of that?

[ It's an even tone, booming but unclear as to whether it should really be taken as threatening, exactly. He's just a man looking for information. ]

best theme tbh

Date: 2014-10-18 04:11 am (UTC)
weakshallinherit: (✘ did you get bit?)
From: [personal profile] weakshallinherit
[ It's not what he's asking, but it would be a valid question in and of itself. He can't know what's happened to her the past couple of weeks, but he knows this world. He knows what it will do to you, maybe better than most do. He hadn't been out in the world quite as long, but the world had gotten into him.

He stands there a moment, nods, and then reaches up - he releases the closure at the bottom of his mask, and he pulls it off to reveal his face. Just a man underneath - nothing notable about him, really. His scars aren't the kind that are carved into flesh. ]


Deliverance from sanctuary.

[ Certainly, the irony on the word 'sanctuary' is apparent. ]

Your people?

[ It didn't escape him that she said "some people." That's a very different thing. ]

Date: 2014-10-18 11:29 pm (UTC)
weakshallinherit: (✘ you were never there)
From: [personal profile] weakshallinherit
There, he just shakes his head. He had his people, sure, had Jenny and Duane, still had Duane when Rick came through... but after Rick moved on to Atlanta, there hadn't been many more. None of them stuck around long enough to be their people, just passed on through and off into oblivion. They'd take up one of the houses, hunker down, maybe share introductions or a few cautious conversations but, bit by bit, each house was left, some of them burnt and some just stood as rotting husks of the world that was. And once it was just Morgan, well. He hadn't really been one to let people in for some time.

"Don't have any people. Not anymore."

Somewhere out there might still be those faces he knows, Rick and his boy, the woman that had been with him. Maybe they're still alive. More likely, he thinks, they're not. Nobody lasts long these days, just slipping away around him.

"Every one of them, just-- It's just me. Been on the road."

Date: 2014-10-19 03:35 am (UTC)
weakshallinherit: (✘ i have to clear)
From: [personal profile] weakshallinherit
He just nods in acknowledgement. She's sure to have her losses, too, he knows, probably more than he's got if she's let other people in. That was the thing he didn't do, the thing that had kept him isolated for so long. You don't reach out, you don't let them in, you just focus and you clear.

"Where my path takes me. I don't know where it's going."

He looks past her then, into the distance, some lingering remnant of the darkness he'd descended into clouding his gaze for a moment.

"There was a man out here. I knew him. I saw him again, he came back. It was months ago he was there, I don't know how many now. Couldn't keep track anymore. I don't know where he's gone. I don't know if he's gone."

The apparent repetition, of course, is in fact two distinct sayings - a matter of location and a matter of survival. Rick had mentioned the prison, but Morgan saw it on his way. That prison wasn't holding anything living anymore.

Date: 2014-10-20 12:46 am (UTC)
weakshallinherit: (✘ we have inherited the earth)
From: [personal profile] weakshallinherit
Not intact, but closer to it now. Months ago, he'd never have moved. He'd never have approached her. He'd certainly never have taken off his mask or managed to get out a few sentences of relatively coherent conversation.

Still, there's that broken look that lingers. At length, his eyes shift back to her and focus again, and he appears to have come back from... wherever he just was. He couldn't tell you if you asked, there aren't words for the places he's gone. They aren't even places. The silence draws on as he studies her a moment, which likely feels longer than it is.

And then he shifts his head back, before he gives one slow and careful nod.

"Morgan."

Which is a start. Not quite an extension of trust, but an indication that he'll consider it. That he's trying to hold onto this, this relative coherence. That he knows he can't just be alone anymore.

HOW ABOUT WE HAVE A LITTLE TIMESKIP

Date: 2014-10-18 06:37 am (UTC)
gotadamnmouth: (pic#)
From: [personal profile] gotadamnmouth
[It's really been a hell of a week. Or has it been more than a week? Fuck, it's impossible to really keep track of things like time anymore. Point is, ever since Brian's attempt at taking over the prison, things have been hell, and Tara never really got a chance to stop and think before she was uprooted from one group and dumped into another.

Well. Maybe that's not the best choice of words. Tara is still an outsider. Doesn't quite fit in with Abraham's trio or the survivors of Glenn's group. She's sure that not everyone knows who she is, but Glenn knows. And she's pretty sure she saw a spark of recognition in the sheriff's eyes. Which is why it was so utterly shocking that she had been given a gun and told to take first watch with the gore-covered woman that night while some of them caught up on sleep. These people trusted her with a gun...

But hey. She had no intentions of taking advantage of that. She wanted to prove that she wasn't like those other members of Brian's militia... and protecting these people while they were at their most vulnerable was a great starting point for that.

So, after circling the perimeter of the flimsy little shack they had holed up in for the night, Tara eventually makes her way over to where Carol was, and sits down next to her. Not... not too close, but close enough so that she doesn't have to raise her voice to talk.]


Hey.

Date: 2014-10-18 10:28 pm (UTC)
gotadamnmouth: (pic#)
From: [personal profile] gotadamnmouth
Yeah.

[Okay.... okay. So Glenn talked about her. And that makes her nervous. True, he didn't tell Maggie, or Sasha and Bob, about her involvement with Brian's group when he introduced her to them... but they were kind of in a situation then. Now that they had time to breathe... that's when Tara started worrying.

But it looks like her worrying was pointless.... for now at least. So she just nods.]


And you're... lemme guess. Rambo?

[She ain't getting that image of Carol covered in blood and gore and lugging around a bunch of weapons out of her head anytime soon, nope.]

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Carol Peletier

October 2015

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