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: 2014-10-20 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.
weakshallinherit: (✘ i was supposed to do it)
From: [personal profile] weakshallinherit
She's interpreted well enough - he has no specific destination in mind, though he'd been warily following whatever hints at survivors he came across as he wandered. It had brought him this far, though his natural caution and suspicion would have held him back from wandering into Terminus even if it hadn't been in flames.

His instincts are sharper again, creeping back from full-blown paranoia and inching slowly closer to a healthier guarded state. He's not quite there yet. But he doesn't get the feeling that Carol is trying to trap him somehow. (Of course, that doesn't mean that if this is an ambush, he wouldn't be ready for it. He's got his own formidable share of firepower with him.)

"Back to your group."

Instincts may be leaning in her favor, but it's still wary, teetering in uncertainty between an observation and a question. Still, she's upfront. Direct. That's worth something.

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Carol Peletier

October 2015

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