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018] [video/action]

[For those who know him- and his story- it should come as no surprise that Daryl's face pops up on the network now, backlit with a hazy, mid-morning sky, bare branches, and a landscape that's probably unfamiliar to everyone but him. And he doesn't look happy: hair damp and clinging to skin already streaked with dirt, his expression probably says it all-

Welcome to my world.

But just in case it doesn't (and for those who haven't heard about this crap yet):]

It's the brain. Only way to put 'em down. Don't let 'em grab you, don't let 'em scratch you, don't let 'em bite you. Hell, don't let 'em anywhere near you if you can help it. [He scowls.] ...Easier said than done since we're crammed in here like a bunch of damn sardines- [never before has Wonderland made him feel more like an ant trapped under a magnifying glass........] -so I'm gonna say it again: Brain.

[If he seems more annoyed than anything else, it's because he is; this is business as usual for him, but just like back home there are people here he cares about, people who don't deserve this shit. That's his main concern. This won't last forever, but he'd like to keep the horrible deaths to a minimum if at all possible...]

Got some stuff out here, y'all can come find me if you need it-- [He pauses, and for a fleeting second considers making an apology... But the moment passes without one. Anyone wanting to ream him out for bringing this hell to Wonderland can do so when it's over- ain't no time for in-fighting unless someone don't got a pulse.] Out by the water, where the beach used to be. Don't got too many of 'em over here yet... [And of course as soon as the words leave his mouth, a figure shuffles into view of his camera, drawn, no doubt, by Daryl's deep and enduring love for the things.....

The feed ends there. DARYL SMASH.]

[[ooc: HIT HIM UP HERE VIA VIDEO OR ACTION IDK. He's at the quarry area now, but he'll go wherever he's needed. He has a stockpile of crap with him so if you wanna grab something from him there's that. Also walker-exterminating lessons, those are also a thing.

ALSO. This is a catchall, so if there's something you wanna do with him on a day other than the first day, just specify that and I'll roll with it! He'll be roaming so feel free to assume he's wherever you want/need him to be!]]

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[Daryl makes a face. You think he was born knife in hand with the ability to shank walkers like a champion?

...Don't answer that.]

You'll learn.

[What he means is "you gotta learn or you're fucked" and while Daryl's far from teacher material... If that's what it takes, that's what it takes. He isn't in the business of letting kids die.]

And yeah, when it's over all this'll disappear, the Mansion'll turn back into a Mansion... People who died, they'll come back too, and not as geeks.

[He keeps moving, down one set of stairs and then another, rinse repeat, until they reach the bottom, finally. Uneventful... SMALL MIRACLES.]

_{[A monster wearing his skin had learned the tricks of the trade once, and eagerly at that, but the real Adam is far from convinced. His own family couldn't save him, what's one guy going to do? A stranger, no less?

He doesn't know what to do with this kindness, so he doesn't say anything more than:]}

That crossbow looks more your thing than mine.

_{[The comment is a dry one as he peers over the railing of the stairs. Forget using a weapon like that, it also looks heavy as hell, and Adam hasn't been factoring much spinach into his diet. If other people are as prepared as Daryl to fight his way out of a prison of man-eating monsters, then he has a hard time imagining how he's supposed to stay alive when Daryl's already predicting some of their numbers are going to die.

When he replies, it's not a question but an observation.]}

Because nobody really dies here.

_{[Under these circumstances, he's undecided whether that's a good or a bad thing. By the time they reach the first floor, he doesn't really care. His nerves are prickly with fear and weariness alike, and being far more out of shape than Daryl after months of inactivity, he feels the consequences of the long walk in his legs.]}

[He scoffs. You got longer arms than Carl, kid, you could probably make the crossbow work.

...But yeah, no... It is his thing.]

Got a lot of options with them closets, when they're workin'...

[Meaning there's bound to be something he's got an affinity for. The wand chooses the wizard, etc.

Daryl, too, is feeling the stairs; great shape or not, going up and down stairs all day like he's been is hard on the knees. He ain't exactly in his prime no more, and he's still recovering from his throwdown with America's mirror, so by the time the reach ground level... He's a little tired. Only human, after all.

Not that it's gonna stop him. He's just gonna keep on keepin' on.]

No. It's still dyin', you just... [He lacks the vocabulary to describe what it'd been like for him, he just knows that even though he'd come to eventually, dying is still dying.] Come back again. That don't make it nothin'.

_{[When the closets are working, that means the mansion's still the mansion he's gotten used to over the past few weeks, and that means Adam doesn't have to do anything but occasionally wish up food and water. So long as his room and the angel warding is intact, he can rage and break as much furniture as he wants, or drink as much as he wants, or run as many ice cold baths when it feels like his skin is burning off from imaginary flames.

Compared to that easy existence, leaving his cell and those comforts behind seems like the most stupid idea he's had yet, even if there's no more magical closet to speak of.

Adam wavers at the door, squinting in the light. He hasn't been outside in so long, mostly because seeing a whole world moving on without him overwhelms the part of his soul that just wants a small corner to hide in and heal.]}

You ever died before? _{[Talking helps cover up the fact he's ready to hunch over.]} The remembering's the bad part. You know? But it's where you might end up afterward that's the kicker. Coming back here isn't so bad. Speaking from experience.

[Daryl gives a short, noncommittal grunt in response to that question, and nothing more. Yeah, he's kicked it here, he's kicked it and he's turned and he'd rather not discuss it in depth. Anyone who needs to know already knows, he's already dealt with that.

It's over, even if he still wakes up drenched in sweat and panting more often than he'd like.]

You around for that one message... The radio show, or whatever the hell it was? That guy was talkin' about where he went... Sounds like you know for yourself, though. Different rules here.

["From experience..." Daryl isn't gonna ask what did it, because it's not his place... And because kids dying ain't something he likes to hear about anyway.

He narrows his eyes against the light as they finally make it outside, lifting a hand to his brow as he scans the area. Looks clear enough...]

_{[He isn't certain it's so easy to talk about his own death like it's nothing when it's not; he should be using monosyllables, too, maybe catatonic with the tragedy of it all. But he's not. Maybe it's pettiness at work. The world's caused him so much pain, why not put some of that pain back into the universe, let it flow out of him like poison?

He assumes by the man's lack of an answer is due to pain of his own.]}

Then you get what I mean. About remembering. _{[He doesn't need the confirmation.]} You mean the crazy DJ, don't you? Doesn't really matter. This place is just breaking the rules, not changing them.

_{[Resurrecting people again and again only masks what's coming, what's waiting for a person's soul once all is said and done. It seems to Adam that when a soul reaches that crossroads, there's only two roads to take: upstairs or downstairs. Eternal pleasure or eternal pain.

In comparison to the restless existence one can live out in Hell, living and dying in endless loops in Wonderland is tame. So he should be able to manage, shouldn't he? He should be able to hold his chin up and not give a fuck, turn off his fear, stare death in the face. Put his experiences to good use.

But he can't. The hot sun and the fences terrify him, and he falls back. Bluster isn't the same as bravery.]}

Hell if I know.

[It's not much of an answer, of course, but then again... Daryl's no philosopher. There's nothing he can do about where he goes or don't go when he finally kicks it enough times- all he can do is to keep that from happening for as long as he can. After that... He's got nothing. Despite the circumstances here and back home, though, he's maintained a respect for life- his own, everyone else's, too- and that's not gonna change.]

Hey. [He can feel the kid losing his nerve, and it's confirmed when he turns around and sees him lingering, clearly apprehensive about leaving the doorway.] Keep movin', we don't got all day.

[...Probably not the most sensitive response, but it's the one he's got.]

_{[It's good, that he doesn't know. It's good. Even Heaven has its drawbacks, or had. Adam can barely remember that time now, when he hadn't been scared or afraid for the state of his soul.

He looks both ways, flipping the handle of the knife around in his hand.]}

And where's this camp supposed to be? Leaving the fortified prison doesn't seem that smart to me.

_{[It has walls and doors that lock, unlike the wide open spaces outside. Fences or no fences, leaving means getting close to those things. Maybe this guy's just nuts and that's why he's skulking around with his crossbow, leading people around to god knows where, but then what does that make him when he's followed Daryl this far already?]}

My camp's outside down by the water. When I left there weren't too many of 'em over there. Less than in here. [And once again, he fights the urge to roll his eyes or give the kid the side-eye.] Walls don't do shit if they're trappin' you inside with the walkers.

[Come on, Adam, climb outta his ass. He's got you covered.

And because he's feeling charitable, (or maybe empathetic toward this kid that's clearly having a rough time, something he never seemed worthy of when he'd been that age), he'll elaborate for a better understanding of how this shit works:]

Walls and doors'll only keep 'em out for so long. They ain't smart, but they don't stop. Don't matter how long it takes, if you're the only food they got they'll keep goin' until they tear it all down. Got no idea how many of 'em're are inside, neither, if there's some kinda breach somewhere...

[What he's saying is that he and his people didn't clear it, and so he doesn't trust its safety.]

_{[The water? Where's that supposed to be? From Adam's expression, he hasn't the slightest idea.

He's silent for a time, contemplating the grisly demise Daryl's describing. The choices seem clear: run out of supplies first before the zombies get them, or run into a pack of flesh-eating monsters that can't all be taken down by a simple crossbow. If Daryl knew what had happened the last the big damn heroes had come running to save him, maybe he'd understand why Adam is hesitant to reverse course and climb out of his rear. It's not easy being a monster's chew toy.

Finally, Adam seems to decide that Daryl has a point and follows him out, glancing around carefully at the surrounding area.]}

[Well it's moved slightly since Wonderland's rearranged itself, it's not quite the endless stretch of ocean it was before... But it is in the same general sort of vicinity; the spot where the dock was, that's where Daryl's made camp, down a slight hill leading toward the fake quarry. Home sweet fire pit...

But hey, at least Adam doesn't have to worry about the big damn hero thing- that isn't Daryl's bag, not by a long shot. Hero... That ain't him, he don't want that anywhere near him.

He's just big on responsibility and as far as he's concerned, everyone here's in this because of him. Which makes everyone's safety on him, for the most part. It's made a hell of a lot easier when people cooperate, though, and so there's definite relief when Daryl hears the shuffling behind him that indicates Adam's decided to play nice and do as he's told. Don't get him wrong, being in charge isn't really his thing either... But he knows how to take the lead if he's gotta, and this definitely falls under that heading.

There's a soft grunt in acknowledgement of Adam's choice, and then he falls silent, scanning the area in silence as he makes his way out of the final set of fences. They're bent and broken in places, he notices; fuckin' figures...]

_{[The sun is too hot. The knife in his hand is too heavy. The prison grounds are too open.

There's too much of a lot of things.

His breath feels strained as well, like there's a weight on his chest he can't lift, but he knows it's just him, it's his own survival instinct screaming at him to hide, or at least whatever's left after Hell had finished sharpening its claws on him. He shouldn't speak, it feels wrong to, but the silence is equally disquieting.]}

What makes you sure a bunch of them aren't just going to come out of nowhere and swarm us?

[Too much shit, Daryl knows. But what're you gonna do about it, really? You ain't gonna do shit but keep movin'.

Now, usually, this would be the part where Daryl'd tell most people to keep their damn mouth shut- he's much more comfortable with silence than anything else... But he can tell the kid's struggling, and so he'll be patient.]

Nothin'. Can't be sure of nothin'. [A sigh.] Preparin's all we got out here, makin' sure you're aware of what's goin' on, where to run if shit hits the fan... [He nods up ahead as his camp comes into view.]

There we go. Got some stuff set up. If they're comin' we'll know about it.

_{[It occurs to him that instead of sports games and the odd camping trip, this must have been what John had been teaching his other kids. Not how to fix cars, but how to get by. How to take what you know and put it toward surviving, really surviving, ducking monsters and figuring how to get by in a bad situation.

In the moment, he hates John, he really hates him for leaving him to suffer like he had in the Cage and then to flounder like this, still as helpless as the oblivious kid who'd walked into Zachariah's trap all those years ago.]}

Thanks. _{[He looks over the camp from behind Daryl's shoulder.]} For doing this.

_{[It's all he can think to say. He'd been dead weight to his family, so the fact that a stranger has already gone this far to watch out for him is beyond comprehension.]}

[For all the hell his own father'd put him through, Daryl'd have to acknowledge that without the skills he'd taught him and Merle- along with the belt or a fist, more often than not- he wouldn't have lasted as long as he had back home. Or here, for that matter. He supposes he owes the old man at least some gratitude, though he's long since come to terms with the fact that his upbringing wasn't... Quite right. There's no use denying it, it just is what it is.

Whatever, though, he's prepared for this and so it doesn't even occur to him to leave everybody else hanging, especially not a damn kid. And so he grunts in response to the thanks as he steps over a concealed trip wire, motions for Adam to do the same.]

Any of 'em step on that and we'll hear 'em.

[Oh so gracious at accepting gratitude...]

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