Intro Log: Puddle Jumpers

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for September
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: September 10th-13th
Warnings: Fresh meat, lots of rain and angry ogres

If the rain on your face isn't enough to wake you up in the colosseum, maybe the thundering footsteps and- well, thunder- is. The first thing that you may notice is that it's incredibly wet around here, with winds that could knock you over if you aren't careful and thunder that brings with it a torrent of constant rainfall.

That's all fine though, because the gods saw fit to help you out on your way in and now everyone will be waking up wearing a rain coat! These coats are a little odd, and some of them are downright silly, but we trust that you'll make do. Of course, a few of the raincoats have additional sleeves, neck holes, and entirely too many buttons as well- but hey, it's the best we could do.

Wait, what was that about thundering footsteps? Oh right, as you're navigating your new fashion choices, there are some monsters afoot who will want nothing more than to grind you into a pulp and eat you- well, if you're organic, that is. If you're not organic, then they still want to grind you to a pulp, but maybe not so much the eating part.

Ogres are from many fantasy stories, but these in particular are from the Dragon Age series. With incredible strength and stamina and massive horns, fangs, and a bloodlust for violence, these monsters won't stop until everyone around them is a blood smear on the ground. They're also not too happy about this rainfall either, so be careful not to slip in the puddles as you run away from them!

Once you've splashed around a bit, feel free to run off into the stormy abyss of our islands. You can explore the rest of the city! Find a house, a new monster, a project to help with, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers September 10th-13th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication and the newbie guide installed.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

Daryl Dixon | OTA

[dadyl]

[1.] Save the Savior

[ His two wounds have gotten to him and Daryl is slumped in a doorway, trying to catch his breath. He's lost two arrows already on the ogre that spotted him and he's pretty sure he has no chance of getting them or any more that he fires at it back. It had made more sense to run, but now thanks to the wound through his side he's winded and the bullet that clipped his head just hours earlier is bleeding badly. His entire body hurts and his head is swimming, and even with the stupid pink raincoat he woke up wearing, Daryl is an insane-looking mess.

And that's why he's stopped -- collapsed, more like -- in the first doorway he made it to, gasping and sagging and barely aware of the ogre that's still following him. He won't be able to do any damage until it's close enough, and by the time it gets close enough, well...

Daryl's going to need a hand. Even if running is the only answer. ]

[2.] Emergency Care

F-fuck!

[ He's swearing as he uses one arm to hold down the first clean shirt he's grabbed out of some weird-ass clothing store, his other hand ripping it back in shreds to use as a makeshift bandage. He's weak enough that the normally simple process is difficult, even when he starts the cuts with his knife and yanks from there. He's already tied another shirt around the middle of his waist to slow the bleeding from the arrow wound in his side, but his head is going to need dealing with. And fast.

But the crunch of glass behind him where he broke in makes Daryl whirl, more than a little awkwardly, and he winces at the pull of his injured muscles. He's still thinking it's some walker following him in, or maybe one of those things from the arena, but...

...but it's just a person. And Daryl's muscles relax too much in relief and he slumps against the cash counter that's already smeared with his blood. ]

Who the hell're you?

[3.] Scavenging (at least he's used to it)

[ Finding food. That's been his number one concern for longer than Daryl can remember, and it appears to be no different here. There are stores to raid though, a surprising amount which are surprisingly stocked (much better stocked than the abandoned buildings back home), but what throws Daryl is that there's nothing to hunt. Not an animal, not a bird, not a bug. It's exceedingly bizarre, and that more than anything leaves Daryl on edge as though he's about to wake up from this strange dream at any second.

But in the meantime, he can still feel pain and hunger, and Daryl needs to eat. Jesse needs to be fed too, and the kid won't be walking far on those feet for quite a while. So Daryl has to deal with that, too. He can't just leave him in that house after saving him, Daryl wouldn't know how to just walk away, but he resents the responsibility. He's got his people to look for, Sophia to look for, and everything about this place has just been a massive headache.

But this shop has some decent canned shit though, and the bag Daryl's been using holds a lot of it. Small-ass blessings, he guesses. ]

[4.] Wildcard!

Hit me with anything! Daryl is an explorer and only feels grounded by taking action, so he'll be exploring a lot over the next few days before the storm drives him inside.

2

[uptightness]

Carolina. And you?

[Which, arguably, may well be a ridiculous question to be asking at the moment. She doesn't look overly phased by the sight of blood on him, as if she's seen enough of it before, and that is the crux of it. She's been injured more time than she can count, seen others hurt, others die, which is why those green eyes are already assessing damage.

Her mind is a mile a minute. The Colosseum? People don't usually come out of it that badly, although she supposes that they can. Pre-coming here? She hadn't been in the best position herself, trapping in her armor for days, slowly wasting away with no food or water in sight. Sheer and dumb luck that Wash had been here, although Carolina was a stubborn ass of a woman and would keep fighting until her strength failed her.]

There is a clinic.

[Although whether he can make it there on his own is another matter. But she's already reaching in to her bag. Not exactly any medical supplies on her, but there is water in a bottle that she sets down on the counter, and a spare shirt which is relatively clean. She doesn't go far without her own knives, which is why there is one drawn, already working her own shirt in to strips. Her voice is clipped, one used to giving orders, used to having them followed.]

The heck happened to you and what are your exact injuries?

[dadyl]

[ Daryl is about to snap at her that his name doesn't matter, that he's in the middle of something and could she just screw off please, he doesn't need a woman fluttering over him and making shit worst, but something about how calm she looks as her eyes rake over his wounds gentles him a bit. If she's seen the things he has and hasn't needed sheltering or protecting, if she's taken care of herself, then maybe she can help.

And he could sure use it, as much as he doesn't want to admit it. ]

Daryl. [ Gruff, bordering on unfriendly, but he's too exhausted to maintain the outward level of annoyance he feels on the inside about needing someone's help. Especially a strange woman's. But... a clinic? Better than Hershel's farm set-up? That's more than he's seen in months. Could she be telling the truth? ]

What? Where? Where are we? [ Again, not an answer that will really matter until he's got his bleeding under control, but his confusion is pounding in his head. He flinches when she moves towards him, but her capable movements and the presence of her knife actually calms him. He slumps against the counter while he watches her work, still scowling suspiciously. It's a good thing Daryl both resents and responds to that tone because he answers her despite his temptation not to. ]

Fell down a ravine, lookin' for.. don't matter how. [ He's too tired to go into it, too angry, too depressed about having failed to find much yet again. And this stranger doesn't need to know the details. ] Fell on one of these, [ he gestures to his crossbow, meaning the arrows, ] killed some walkers, and then... I think I got shot? [ He touches the blood dripping from the side of his head. The last thing he remembers is coming up on Hershel's field, remembers Rick and Shane and the rest running up on him, holding their weapons at the ready, and then... nothing. And then he was just here, and running from some fucked up monster. ] What the hell're those things out there?

[uptightness]

[It is that brokers no bullshit attitude that she tends to give off. She has learned to let her hair down a little, at least in certain situations, although even that is still a work in progress. That she had been willing to go and ask for help in how to relax said a lot. Once, she likely would have punched anyone who had suggested that.

A curt nod, as she's just fine calling him hey you if need be, but at least a name alleviates that part. He's running on adrenaline would be her guess, and from his questions, it's further exacerbated by his arrival here. Not that wounds like these couldn't come from something here, but unless he took a good knock to his head, he'd know where they were.]

It's called Hadriel, for what it's worth. Wasn't familiar with it before I found myself here.

[Which hadn't made her feel any better when she had heard it, but it is the truth. Unless you're name is Caboose, she's not overly likely to coddle anyone too much, especially when they ask a direct question and need to know the truth. Her eyes shift up for a moment, a wry look in their green depths as the corner of her mouth twitches. Yes, he looks just about ready to bolt. It's an expression that's been on her face enough that she knows it.

She hands him one of the pieces for his head, eyes dropping to his waist as he continues with his story. She has no idea what a walker is, likely something that's in his own universe but not in hers. Where ever he is from though, either he's managed to find all the trouble, or all there is is trouble.]

We can wrap your head up and move you, if you think you can make it.

[Somehow she thinks that he is as stubborn as she is and that's not going to be a problem. But if he's anything like her, he's going to push himself beyond his means. She's been there and she's done that. Working the strips and knotting them in to a make-shift longer piece that she can wrap, she gives him a moment, before moving to bind his head wound.]

They- I'm not entirely certain. Every time new people come, new monsters come with it. Some are more a scare factor, easy to deal with. This time- they're more aggressive. Hard to take down too.

[dadyl]

Ain't never heard of it. [ It sounds like the name of a city, but Daryl knows his part of Georgia pretty well, and Hadriel isn't on any map he's ever seen. He still can't figure out how he ended up here from where he was, wherever here is, but he supposes knowing the name of the place is the first step to getting back. ] Where were you runnin' from? Atlanta, like everyone else?

[ He takes the rag from her cagily, pressing it against his head to slow the bleeding, watching her all the while. She seems well taken care of for the end of the world, so she must have some base like the farm to work from. Carolina here definitely hasn't been living in a tent of the back of a car somewhere. ]

Make it? [ Daryl sneers a little, even with the evidence of her assistance pressed to his temple. ] I don't know you. I ain't goin' anywhere.

[ They had trusted the farm, and that had luckily turned out okay, but they'd had no choice then; Carl had just been shot, that girl Maggie had come out of nowhere and taken Lori on her horse, and Hershel was the only help to be had for the dying kid. The guy was an old church-goer. He'd had no choice but to talk them in, and they'd had no choice but to stay when they didn't find Sophia.

And that's what Daryl's thinking about; that he should be out looking for that missing kid, or else trying to find a way back to his people. Carolina would be right that he's prone to pushing himself too far, but that doesn't mean he trusts the good in strangers yet. He pushes himself because he only has himself, and he thinks that for now, he's just gotten lucky. Why push it?

He leans away when she moves to wrap his head but eventually relents, looking at her suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. It hurts, but Daryl is starting to numb to the pain more than it's causing him to wince.

Yet what she says makes Daryl's scowl turn incredulous. He's silent for a second, his face screwed up in disbelief. ]

What d'you mean monsters? More shit like that? That's worse than walkers! [ But he's not sure if he's even hearing this right. What does she mean, 'every time new people come'? ] Is this some kinda stronghold? Army hold-out? [ Because that's the only thing that makes any kind of sense to Daryl. But those fucking monsters... ]

1.

[unphase]

[as a Junior member of the Guard, Tinya has a duty to be there when the new arrivals come, both to see them to safety and to . . . deal with the monsters also brought in by the door. Legionnaires don't kill and that part of her is protesting loudly about what it is she's going to do, but the rest of her knows that letting these particular monsters loose among the populace would be a very bad idea.

but before she can actually engage any of the creatures, she spots a man lying in one of the doorways. she's in the air, she can't see him very well, so she swoops down to take a closer look.

he looks injured, so she lands beside him and goes in closer to talk to him]

Sir, you're wounded. Let me escort you to the Clinic so you can get some help.

[dadyl]

[ Daryl is gasping for breath, trying to keep his head about himself, and then--

--there's a fucking girl suddenly beside him. Appearing out of nowhere, appearing so suddenly that he flinches and does a double-take, utter bewilderment on his face as he trips back during his flinch and falls back on his ass. ]

What the hell! [ Almost nothing she says registers with him; Daryl is not used to being snuck up on, and her matter-of-factness is just further scrambling him. No one has sounded that sure of themselves or anything in his world for months. ]

[unphase]

[she didn't mean to startle him! sometimes she forgets that flying isn't possible in almost any of the worlds she's heard about. and now he's fallen and likely hurt himself further.

she sighs, smiles, and tries again. she sounds just as matter-of-fact and sure of herself as before] Sir, you appear to be wounded. Let me take you to the Clinic so you can get some help.

[dadyl]

[ At this point Daryl is half-sure he's already dead; that the monster or whatever it is has already gotten him and this is some smiling little angel come to deal with him. That's how otherworldly she seems, and how unprepared he is for it.

Except... Daryl also knows it wouldn't be angels coming to take him away, so that can't be right. He drops his head into his hands for a moment, overwhelmed, and rubs his face brusquely, trying to collect the last of his sanity. Yet it's the moment she says sir that he lets out an absurd bark of a laugh. Sir. Right. Him, ears around his neck and everything. ]

Okay, now I know I've lost it. Ain't none of this real, is it? [ He asks it a little desperately, staring at angel-girl, unsure what he wants to hear. Maybe it would be better at this point to just lose his mind and call it a life. Not like he's leaving much behind. ]

1

[itsnotaonesie]

[Peter'd been in and around the arena pretty much the entire time that this month's batch of new people had started popping up, and he'd tangled with more than enough of these ogres to know that they mean business. A few cuts, bruises, and broken bones later, and he's about ready to clock out for the day and hope that nobody else happens to show up while he's not around to help them out.

It isn't until he's changed out of his Spider-Man gear (with the exception of his web shooters because you never know man) and made it halfway up one of the colosseum's walls that he spots this bleeding dude in a tacky pink raincoat being stalked by one of the ogres. He kind of wishes he'd spotted this guy before changing, but keeping this guy from getting squished is a way higher priority than hiding his face at the moment.

Without stopping to think of a strategy, he's already launched himself off the wall and into the side of the ogre's head. The good news is it's enough to throw the thing off balance, and he uses the distraction to web one of it's legs firmly to the ground, effectively keeping it from pursuing Daryl any further. Bad news, thanks to the injuries Peter's already sustained, he isn't able to evade when the ogre snatches him off of it's gross face, smash him into the ground, and then whip him at a wall. It is the wall next to where Daryl's door is, so technically it counts as a step in the right direction. Except that he isn't able to catch himself before just straight up colliding with the wall since he's still dazed from the ground smashing, and now he's sorta just in a heap on the ground next to Daryl sooo.

Yeah, this rescue is off to a good start!]

[dadyl]

[ Daryl was staring down what he was sure was about to be his death, on the verge of accepting this was the nightmare he'd die in (and maybe it was all just some weird, painful nightmare?), when -- even as he's watching it he can't be sure it's even happening -- a kid comes flying out of fucking nowhere and smacks into the side of the monster's head.

He has a hard time absorbing what happens next, and for a long few moments, while he sits there still as stone, he doesn't seem to; the web, the way the beast snatches the slight body off its face and throws the kid around like a toy, and then-- slam, and SLAM. Daryl's whole body winces at each of the impacts, the realization that he probably just saw some poor kid die shivering through him and somehow overtaking his utter confusion for the time being. ]

Shit! [ He's still aching, still bleeding, but at least this huge freak is stuck in one place now, struggling to get free, that much easier to aim at and... Finally, he thinks as one of his arrows hits paydirt in the thing's eye. The ogre screams and reaches for its face, distracted, making a series of horrific sounds that Daryl is not likely to forget anytime soon, but it doesn't bring him any real measure of relief.

In fact, from what he's seen so far, he's sure he only has a few seconds to run, or... Or drag his bleeding ass over to the kid on the ground and roughly roll him over. And--

--the kid is breathing. How is that even possible!? How was everything he'd just seen possible!? ]

You in there, kid!? Hey, y'gotta get up! Talk t'me!

[itsnotaonesie]

[Needless to say, Peter is pretty dazed. It takes him a moment to even realize that he's on the ground, and as soon as he's figured that out, some guy is rolling him over. As soon as his eyeballs remember how to open, everything else comes back to him pretty quickly. Right, right, he'd been trying to save this guy from a bigass monster. The guy isn't smooshed into paste right now, so hey, mission accomplished. Sort of.

Okay, mission not quite accomplished yet.]

Please tell me nobody else saw me beef it.

[Because that's what's important right now, right? But no, this guy's right. It's time to get up, which Peter starts to do before stopping abruptly, wincing, and clutching at his side. Oh goooooood, he hadn't needed those ribs anyway.]

Ah-- okay, okay. Good. This is-- this is good. Hi, by the way.

[Not only is the kid breathing, he's also just running his mouth, so. That's a thing.]

[dadyl]

[ The look Daryl gives the kid's first words is complete, slack-jawed bewilderment. Then, weirdly enough, because it's all too damn weird to process anyway, Daryl flashes him a quick, desperate, and in no small part relieved grin. ]

Nah, just me. An' fucked up Hulk Hogan over there. But he's got one less eye t'see you with, now.

[ No time to be glad about that, though. Hightailing it out of there is still the first item on Daryl's to-do list, and even with his own bleeding injuries, Daryl still moves to help the kid up. He's swallowing back his own flinch when Peter winces and grabs at his side, and Daryl suddenly isn't sure where best to try and get hold of him. Of course he's hurt, he should be dead, but Daryl doesn't have time for all the questions he wants to ask.

Even though the kid apparently has time for greetings. Daryl gives another baffled shake of his head and drags one of Peter's arms over his shoulders, trying to ignore whatever reaction that pain will cause him. He ain't got no choice to be gentle at this point. ]

Hi yourself, kid! [ That's going to have to pass for Daryl's version of hello for the time being. Carefully using the strength left in his legs instead of his back, he uses the wall behind them to leverage the both of them to their feet and takes another quick look at the still-bellowing ogre. Daryl's head is spinning, still bleeding, but now dripping all over the arm he's got around him. The rest of him is a dirty, bloody mess though, so at least it will blend right in. If his day had been less trying and bizarre, he might have a thought to spare about what this bright little guy might think of him. ]

Hope the rest of you can move as fast as your damn mouth!

3

[kingforboth]

[The lack of food to hunt was something that surprised Kelson as well. The idea of having to 'shop' for food in cans and packages was a foreign concept. Granted, hunting for his food wasn't something the king of Gwynedd had to do on a regular basis, but it was always a special treat at the end of a fine day's hunt. Here, there was none of that. And whatever he found in the cans certainly wasn't peacock or venison. He was pretty sure it wasn't even hare. But. It was food, and Kelson had learned not to be terribly picky after being trapped underground, eating nothing but fish and funeral offerings.

Kelson grabbed cans of things he recognized, leaving what he didn't alone since he neither knew what it was or how to prepare it. Actually, the mere fact that he knew how to prepare anything was kind of a miracle, and thanks to the kindness of the people he'd met here.

Still, the boy, felt terrible. Sniffling and fighting through the rain that had plagued them for days now, he shuffled and gathered more supplies, since there was no one to do it for him. He noticed Daryl though, and wasn't sure he'd seen him before, or if he was new.]

Do you know what this is?

[He asked, holding up a can of food.]

[dadyl]

[ Daryl had heard the kid enter the store long before Kelson noticed him, but after all he'd been through recently, Daryl had been dead-set on ignoring him. Just leaving whoever it was alone to go about what they were doing without involving himself; he hardly needs anything else to deal with, no one else has been able to answer his questions to his liking (and is everyone insane around here, or what?), and even when the kid starts to sniffle he just sets his mouth harder. Don't get involved. Don't make eye contact. One more can, then he'll go, and--

--damn it. Daryl glances up, a surly look on his face, lips pressed in a hard, unfriendly line. He does look at the can Kelson is holding though, and his eyebrows soften just slightly. Is this kid fucking with him? Just to get a response out of him? How does he not know that's... ]

That's dog food. [ Gruff, but to the well-trained ear, there is the tiniest note of amusement in his voice. ] You don't read well or somethin', kid? [ Daryl is not the most literate person in the scheme of things, but even the picture of the dog on it should have given it away. What's the matter with this guy? ]

[kingforboth]

[Kelson had been dead set to just continue on his way when he noticed the scowl and the unfriendly demeanor the guy was radiating, but too late now. He had asked without really looking. And then, he'd gotten an unexpected answer. Kelson blinked, surprised by the answer and turned the can toward him to look at it again, suppressing a short cough. He probably still looked confused.]

I read quite well, but I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with a lot of these items.

[Kelson also had to be shown how to use a stove and flush a toilet. So, at least he was learning?]

What's the difference? The dogs at the palace eat regular food.

[Kelson looked at the can again, he just figured the dog was some sort of signature of who ever made the food. Like how he used a flourish to guard against forgery.]

Kelson. What's a 'kid'?

[Although he'd never know it, he had been called boy-king behind his back. And impotent. And other lovely, bigoted names he was unaware of. Luckily for him, most of those men ended up dead.

He was also pretty sure if he pressed the 'your majesty' thing with this guy he would not get a good response. But names and a little respect went a long way. Still, the man had softened a bit. He reminded him a bit of the border folk. Life was tough up there, and they reflected it in their demeanor and culture. If he could win some of them over, maybe he could eventually do the same with this man.

Kelson gave a cough and brushed the black braid behind his shoulders.]

[dadyl]

[ Daryl's cagey scowl relaxes a little more despite himself, but he still doesn't seem like he's edging any closer to 'friendly'. The way this guy talks... it's all tight, proper, upper class-like, and it makes Daryl feel instantly uncomfortable. Like whoever talks like that is also someone who'll be judging him as some poor son of a bitch. He's not dressed as haggardly as he was when he arrived here, at least his wounds have been dealt with and he's no longer blood-soaked, but Daryl knows there's something about him that just reads as off to those with money. He assumes the kid means that he's used to much finer fare. ]

Yeah, well. Lucky you, princess.

[ But then... Kelson continues to speak, and Daryl looks at him like he's just spouted another head. The palace? Is this kid some delusional little ritzy brat, or is... is this something similar to how almost everyone else he's met here seems to just be weird? In one way or another?

Speaking perfect English and not knowing what the word kid means though... that takes the damn cake. Well, almost. He's seen some pretty weird shit here already. Maybe this little princess isn't that weird, after all, everything considered.

It's only then that Daryl realizes he's been standing there staring at the guy with a bit of stunned look on his face. ] What d'you mean the palace? You the Queen of England or some shit?

[ But he also thinks the kid might have just introduced himself, so Daryl squints at him in his typical hesitant, suspicious way. ] Kelson your name? [ It's a bit of a weird name, but like Daryl can talk. He eyes the girlish braid though, thinking princess again in the back of his mind, but he picks up on the cough this time, if for no other reason than he's thinking maybe the guy's been bitten. Probably not though, or he'd been looking a lot more pallid. Can't hurt to be careful, though ] A kid, y'know... A kid. A child, whatever. You sick or somethin'?

2

[redlikerose]

Who the hell am I? I'm Ruby!!

[Ruby straightens herself up in order to make herself stand out more.]

Uh, hey? You don't look so good. Do you need a hand?

[She looks at Daryl in concern because he's hurt. The sight of blood fills her with a sense of uneasiness. He needs to get help soon.]

[dadyl]

[ And stand out she does, even if it's in a way that she might not have expected to. She looks out of place to Daryl, sounds out of place. She's too young to be alone, has too bright an attitude to make sense to him. He blinks, slowly, wondering how she's survived so long. Daryl still thinks he's somewhere close to home with the dead hiding everywhere. ]

I'm fine. [ It's an obvious lie, but Daryl doesn't know what else to say. He's not asking this little girl for help. That would be unthinkable. ]

[redlikerose]

You know what? I'm not convinced, yeah.

[Ruby gently pats him on the back...assuming he won't fall over from it. She's a bit young to be alone out here, true. It's not the first time she's been wandering around without supervision. ]

Take it easy friend.

[dadyl]

[ Daryl snorts, hard. Amused despite how much it hurts. Okay, so maybe he wasn't exactly passing for 'okay'.

He flinches when she touches him though, less from pain and exhaustion (although that is a part of it) then from shock. How familiar could a strange girl be witha a guy that looks like him? ]

I ain't your friend! Where'd you come from, girl? [ And who would let her wander off talking to strangers? ]

3

[storyseeker]

[Time to go 'shopping'. Elena supposes she could appreciate the fact that she doesn't have to deal with long checkout lines or slow cashiers or, you know, money in Hadriel, but the convenience is somewhat offset by the fact that they have to scavenge for what they get. Scrounge, if she's feeling polite about it.

It doesn't help that what the stores do have is rarely organized in a way that makes sense to her...or that she isn't what anyone would call tall. Elena sighs and boosts herself on the lowest shelf to reach the highest, which is the only place she can spot what she's after. Unfortunately, it's still incredibly wet outside, and her soles haven't dried yet. Just as some guy she doesn't know comes into sight, Elena slips, falls and brings down a handful of cans with her as she falls on her ass.]

Shit.

[Ow. All that for a can of beans.]

[dadyl]

[ Daryl had heard the sound of her slipping around, that wet rubber squeak on tile and metal, and had unslung his crossbow just to be safe as he rounded the aisle. He sure wasn't going to go about his business collecting food until he'd cleared the place, no matter how innocent the sound. A paranoia about walkers would see him doing this for a long time, never quite believing that they're gone.

And a moment later he's lowering the bow, watching a small woman fall flat on her ass with a rather impassive look on his face. If Daryl thinks the whole thing is funny it's not immediately evident, but then--

Half a grin as he shoulders the bow again and takes a few steps forward. ]

Smooth. How 'bout you bring the rest down for me, too? [ He offers a hand up from far enough away that she won't feel crowded by him. He's not huge, but he's tall and rough-looking enough to know his own first impression. As much as he tries to hide it, Daryl's afraid enough of the end of the world himself that he can't imagine what it would feel like for a dainty thing like her. ]

sorry for the delay!

[storyseeker]

[Of course there's someone here to see. Of course. It's a good thing Elena's not a terribly prideful person, because she'd be even more embarrassed than she already is, which is a fair amount.]

Sorry, you missed today's only window of opportunity for catastrophic can fetching.

[Elena winces as she starts to right herself, and absolutely isn't above taking the offered hand to hoist herself the rest of the way.]

It's okay if you want to laugh, you know. I couldn't expect anyone to have enough self-restraint not to after making that much of a fool of myself.

I am master of delays, never worry!

[dadyl]

[ Daryl lets go as soon as she's on her feet, dropping his arm awkwardly at his side. He turns halfway away from her and eyes the shelves, pretending nonchalance but stealing another cagey glance at her.

No. Definitely not a threat, just like all those he's met around here so far. ]

You should carry a stool with you. Or somethin'.

[ But luckily, Daryl has never really been one for laughing, even at others. A smirk now and then, sure, but she already got that much out of him. ]

Weren't that funny. Looked like it mighta hurt.