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_{[By the looks of the network, there's something wrong again, something about missing people, but when isn't something going wrong in Wonderland?

Adam has more immediate concerns, ones that, in comparison, are far more innocuous. In opposition to missing someone, if anything Adam is still trying to adjust to an addition to his one-man family. Getting a dog had seemed like a great plan when the event had been in full swing and encouraging him to ignore the oh my god, I can't be responsible for another living thing panic, but now the event's long over and the dog's still around with no humane society in sight. The destruction the dog wreaks around his apartment spurs him to write a text message he figures can't do any harm. It's not the weirdest thing he's ever asked on the network, anyway, and if nothing comes of it, no loss.]}

Anyone have any dog training tips? For a larger kind of dog if it won't listen.

_{[The warm and fuzzy honeymoon feeling has worn off and cold, heard reality has set in in the form of one barking, grunting, chewing, drooling, messy, smelly, furry giant.]}

And if it won't stop chewing everything it's not supposed to.

_{[At the end of the message, he adds:]}

Any good names for a guy dog?

_{[Not long after he posts his message, Adam takes his new responsibility out for his daily walk, phone in his jacket pocket and gun tucked into the back of his pants (hey, it's not like anyone's around to report him missing, but he's not about to become another statistic if he can help it). The mastiff, a soft fawn-colored dog nearing two hundred pounds and pretty much as tall as his owner standing on his rear legs, trots ahead of Adam, collar jingling merrily. Adam follows behind, rubbing his face tiredly. For once the redness around his eyes isn't just due to night terrors; lately, having a pet padding around his room and bumping him with its nose keeps drawing him out of nightmares and into the perils of having a dog that won't stop trying to crawl onto your bed.

It's a strange thing, having something there with him at all hours. Really strange. And comforting.

After a while, they end up on a patch of grass beyond the gardens. There, Adam tries once again to teach it the "stay" trick like he's been doing all week. He might not have picked a name for the bastard yet, but actually listening to him when he needs it to stay put is kind of important, and a command that has yet to stick in any meaningful way.

Housebreaking? Not really a problem. Sitting? Not too hard with enough commanding and maybe a beer to calm his nerves. But the staying...]}

Okay, stay. Stay there.

_{[He leaves the dog lying down at a point in the field and tries to back away. The routine almost always ends the same way: by the fifth step or so, the dog seems to think the distance means "green light, go!" and launches forward to paw his legs and nip his bootlaces, tail wagging, where he has to push it back to the start again.

At one point, the dog rips his laces undone completely and bending down results in a dog frantically trying to lick his face from top to bottom.]}

I'm starting to think you're just doing this on purpose. _{[Adam pushes its big head away, acting annoyed but not feeling it.]} Take a pill. You want one? I have one. Might kill you, but at least you won't be able to get up and follow me. Now get over there and stay.

_{[Back to the starting point.]}

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_{[Although it's not above Wonderland to be a dick and give him a dog as aggressive and messed up as himself, this time the closets had gotten it right.

Adam is just a little proud that he'd gotten a nice one. He watches the dog sniff Daryl out thoroughly, blowing warm air out his nose before giving Daryl's wrist a nudge.]}

You like dogs?

_{[The old Adam had liked most kinds, even eyed his friend's German Shepherd with jealousy once or twice, and there's maybe a glimmer of that person still in him. Pets are supposed to be good for the soul or whatever, and it's true that the last few days have been pretty all right by his standards, despite the dog-related messes he's had to clean up. Since he and Daryl had spoken last, there have been plenty of lows and semi-lows (highs aren't really a thing in Adam's world), but accidental gift to himself or not, the dog is something new. Something not Hell-related.

... Something kind of fun.

He nods his chin at the male bonding happening in front of his eyes, amusement a faint undercurrent to his words.]}

I hear they're pretty low maintenance with the exercise. _{[Meaning "lazy." To prove his point, the dog lets Daryl pet him and responds with a long, low groan, dropping onto his rump to sit there and accept the attention as it comes, tongue hanging out.]} We're working on that. He's on the stubborn side.

_{[Sort of like Adam himself.]}

[Ain't it nice when the place gives you a damn break? Or when any place gives you a break?

Daryl presses his fingers into the dog's slightly wrinkled forehead when it snuffles and noses his arm, following the groove up to scratch it behind the ears.]

Yeah. Good for a hunt--

[Also everything else; don't let his aloofness fool you, Adam, he'd wanted a damn dog as a kid and that desire is still in there somewhere... Even if, like Adam, he doubts his ability to be responsible for something other than himself.

He snorts. Stubborn? Yeah, he bets.]

Food helps.

[Or blow.

Wait, no, that's Merle.

Whatever; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out two smallish slices of jerky. His lunch... But he can share, he supposes. Ain't like he can't just grab more.

He waves it just slightly, enough to waft the scent over to the monster!dog, though he's pretty sure he doesn't have to go that far.]

_{[So many pets, not enough time. Golly gee, what's a dog to do but lap them all up? He looks the furthest thing from an accomplished hunting dog while he sits there in his pile of wrinkles.

The lethargic look disappears when the food appears. His head jerks up, tail starting to sweep back and forth on the grass. Oh, you better believe he's on the ball when something tasty enters the equation. He's starting to learn from Adam that jumping up or ripping it straight out of someone's hand isn't the way to go to get his treats, but he still starts to rise up on his back legs, threatening to perform a Free Willy impersonation. A great leap for freedom and jerky!]}

Oh, boy. He's going to take you down, man.

_{[Adam observes this while the dog starts to bark again, more demanding.]}

[Oh Daryl's got your number now, dog. He backs up a bit at the attention, one hand held out in front of his chest while the other remains curled around the jerky, hiding it from sight if not from smell.]

Hold up-- Easy.

[Taking a chance, Daryl snaps the sliver in two halves and holds one out, taking care to widen his stance a bit in case the dog decides to make good on his threat of lunging forward and knocking him on his ass with those massive paws.]

Take it easy. You want it?

_{[No, no, but food. The dog tries to follow Daryl a few steps, still oblivious to the principle of "stay." Enter the Jaws theme song.

Comin' for you, jerky...]}

Don't be a jackass, dog.

_{[This is Adam's idle piece of advice for his mutt, though he's not too worried about Daryl's chances. The guy can take care of zombies without missing a beat; he's pretty sure Daryl can handle one over-sized puppy.

The dog just barks, demanding. Of course he wants a treat, why aren't you giving it to him already?]}

Edited 2014-04-27 19:08 (UTC)

[Oh, he's totally got this.

Daryl holds out the jerky-free hand again.]

Nuh-uh. Stay- [More forceful this time, authoritative; clearly this jerky business is very serious.

He takes another tentative step back to give the dog a chance to do what he's asked, expression neutral with a side of I know you understand me, now do as I say.

COME ON, MUTT, YOU CAN DO THIS.]

_{[The jerky business is very serious, yes, the most serious... You can't expect a dog to care what's coming out of your human mouth when you're clearly going to give him a treat one way or the other!

Adam's smiling, because he's been here, he's gotten an idea of exactly how stubborn and deaf this dog is. The mastiff knows he's being ordered to do something--he lowers himself down under the guise of compliance, but still extends a leg forward in extreme slo-mo. If he creeps forward slowly enough, maybe Daryl won't notice he's moving...

He freezes like this for a second. Stay? Did you say "stay"? He's staying, see, he's not moving... Does he get the food now? No? He takes a step forward. Maybe Daryl can't see him now because he's too far away. Maybe he should get closer so the man doesn't forget he's going to feed him.]}

[Dog. Dog please that's not how you stay.]

I see what you're doin'-- [Aaaand he's just gonna slide the hand with the jerky back into his pocket. You did this, mutt.] Stay.

[The way Daryl sees it, there are two outcomes to this:

1. The dog obeys and stops creepin', the world rejoices and he gets a snack

2. The dog goes after that jerky like Allie Brosh went after that cake

Choose wisely, beast.]

_{[The Allie Brosh option probably isn't too far off the mark... With a dog this size that can get on most counters and into refrigerators, nothing is safe.

With great reluctance, the mastiff sits with all the sadness of a dog that's just been told to go die. Throw in a few pathetic whines and you have one dog bribing you with big, brown eyes, and one amused Adam.]}

I told you.

[Daryl just makes a face; you won't get him with that face, dog, it's just not happening.

Carefully-] Good-- [He takes a step backwards, then another, testing the dog's willingness to do as he's told.

This is it, this is your moment to shine... DON'T BE A DOGGIE DISAPPOINTMENT.]

He's stayin'...

_{[Daryl, no! You're too far away and what if you never come back! The mastiff stays poised in that position for a few moments, but after Daryl gets a certain distance away, it perks up like a goldfish with the memory span of three seconds and comes bounding over, exactly what he's been doing to Adam from the very beginning.

That's "staying," right? He barks for his treat, tail wagging.

Adam's just a little vindicated that it's not just him the dog has a problem listening to, but he still shakes his head at the sight.]}

Stubborn, man, like I said.

[...Or not.

Sighing through his nose, Daryl caves, waving a piece of jerky before tossing it in the dog's direction. He also shoves a piece into his own mouth, because hey. If the mutt's earned it than so has he.]

He'll learn. He got a name?

[He drops down onto the grass next to Adam, offering him a piece of jerky too. He's assuming it's not... Actually Fido.

He's Adam at least that much credit.]

_{[Isn't this the cutest couple. Adam keeps on smiling, more and more amused.

He's not too worried about the dog; eventually something's going to click, even if he has to go through something like this a thousand more times before it does. (Adam hadn't come out of Hell fully trained, either, how can he expect an animal to be any better?)]}

He won this round. _{[Chuckling a little, he shakes his head.]} Not yet. Haven't decided if he deserves to be saddled with something embarrassing for the rest of his life because he can't listen worth a crap.

_{[The jerky, Adam looks at with some tentativeness. What is that?]}

Is this from the closets?

_{[Given what he's seen of Daryl's prowess in the wild, he's not so sure.]}

[Daryl snorts. Awful kind of you, kid.]

Real considerate. And no, it's from out here. Venison.

[At least it's not a bunny.

...He'd left that at one of the campsites.]

Closets don't got nothin' but Slim Jims. Ain't real food.

[Picky picky... He's got standards, okay?]

You do everything out here yourself?

_{[He's not a picky eater, nor afraid of a little handmade deer jerky; he takes the piece from Daryl, pulling his arm away from the dog as it presses in close, mouth open in hopeful anticipation.

Food is one of the few unadulterated perks of being alive again. Adam pulls off a bite with his teeth, making a "not bad" face.]}

No wonder you make surviving look easy. They don't teach this in school.

Mostly. ...Diner food ain't all bad but if I got a choice I'm doin' it myself. Ain't that hard to make, neither.

[He snorts at the school comment.]

...They don't teach y'all nothin'.

[Geography. Trigonometry or whatever the fuck useless math with no application in the real world unless you're one of them egghead types... Psychology. Pointless crap that just keeps people from learning shit that matters, keeps everybody dependent...

...That last part may be Merle talking. Whatever, point is that Daryl's not exactly a fan of the school system. He'd torn ass outta there as soon as he could.]

_{[Daryl's braver than him. After what had happened with the body-swapping shit with Krissy, Adam's even more leery of eating food from diners around these parts.

He lifts his eyebrows, finding himself scoffing under his breath in a similar way to Daryl before he glances at the ground, eyes hooded. The man's right. At one time, Adam wouldn't have thought so, he would've been gung-ho about his assignments and his midterm exams, and then the conflict between Heaven and Hell had come into the picture. The real world had taught him nothing about the underbelly to the real world. The life or death stuff. How to make the smart choices, how to stand up to an archangel intent on burning your insides up from the inside out.

Adam hadn't mastered any of that, and he'd paid for it.]}

Yeah, tell me about it.

_{[He's in agreement, as cynical as it is.]}

It all seems pretty pointless now.

[Under those circumstances, yeah, Daryl would understand. Shit, it'd taken him a friend, someone he could trust, shoving Mansion food at him for a few weeks before he'd gotten over his general wariness; an ordeal like that body swapping garbage would be enough to put him off of it indefinitely.]

That academic shit is. Not the stuff that's gonna keep you alive. [He gestures at the jerky.

Daryl's upbringing, as fractured and miserable as it'd been, had prepared him for the realities of his world, even if it'd taken a few decades to pay off. He can tell that Adam didn't have the benefit of preparation for much, and from where he stands that ain't right. He likes the kid, and so:] I can show you how to do that if you wanna learn.

In hindsight, I wish someone had clued me in on that sooner. Fighting off zombies and fighting off monsters are about the same.

_{[And though Daryl couldn't know unless he'd heard through the gossip grapevine, Adam had died, twice, because the part his lack of understanding had played in how ready he'd been to face ghouls and frickin' angels. If he'd been wiser, braver, stronger... quick enough to kill before he'd been killed... if he'd been those things, maybe he wouldn't have ended up the human jerky and could have walked away from the Apocalypse with everyone else.

Wishful thinking.

Still, there's a scrap of human left after the Cage, a desire not to go through anything like that again so long as he can avoid it, so Daryl's offer is... attention-getting. Like with Jo's suggestion to start learning how to fight, Adam's tempted by anything that could help get him out of this hamster wheel he's running in circles in.

But Daryl had already had to babysit him once. He eyes the other man consideringly. Is babysitting Michael's used condom something Daryl really wants to commit to?]}

... Like taking a chunk out of the deer that made this? I've never been hunting.

[Daryl just shrugs. He isn't the type to do shit he don't wanna do, and so if he's making the offer...]

Better late than never. [He turns his head to scan the tree line behind him.] It's easier here anyway, most of the time. So long as you keep away from the spot where shit gets weird in there trackin' ain't too bad.

[He's onto you, Wonderland. This squinty fuck won't be getting lost in your woods any time soon.]

Anyway. You decide you want in, you know where I'm at.

[He pops the rest of the jerky into his mouth, nodding at the dog.]

You get him trained up and he can come along too.

_{[He's thinking of Daryl's well-being, too. He's starting to unconsciously pick up on the Winchester death curse--everyone who hangs out with them on a semi-regular basis seems to die, and badly--and he doubts Daryl would like that joy ride. Run while you still can, Daryl! The dog is immune, since who'd bother killing something that cute ugly just to get at Adam? No one, that's who.]}

Where shit gets weird?

_{[He echoes the man's words with a raised eyebrow. He doesn't mean the hidden bunker Castiel had taken him to, does he?

To his own surprise, he doesn't need much time to think about his answer on what to do. Getting the chance to be more like the others is tempting; Daryl is a survivor, knowledgeable and quick on his feet, and Adam doesn't see that in himself. He nods almost unthinkingly.]}

Yeah... yeah, that could be good. Thanks.

_{[The remark about the dog keeps Adam from dwelling on how easily on offer to help comes from Daryl and not the people who've seen him struggle the most, the people he's related to by blood.]}

We'll work on that, won't he? _{[He speaks to the dog, and the dog just blinks before woofing back.]} That means you'll have to start listening.

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003 ♟ text/action

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omg adam bb ;__;

always a laugh a minute... :'D

IKR SUCH AN EASY LIFE HE LEADS

he can join Daryl in the survivor club and learn how to make deer jerky...

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