entranceway | oo1. [Video/Action]

[As the post starts, there's not actually anyone talking or anything showing on the video feed. Just a dark screen, footsteps and light breathing. Whoever's on the other end of the post is on edge; ready for something or someone to come at him. Carl reaches for a weapon - the knife in the holster on his hip - but gets a handful of communicator. The audio rustles uncomfortably and the video is jumbled while he rearranges the device to face him and takes a moment to realize that the thing is recording him.]

A...phone?

[He's very clearly confused, but not for lack of knowledge of the technology. Rather it's just been years since he's seen a working phone, much less one that would record and broadcast anything.]

Hello? I...is anyone there?

[What probably should have been obvious in the first place dawns on him, then, and it shows on his face. His eyebrows furrow and now he's more confident in what he wants out of this thing. What he needs to accomplish here. If he's here - in a strange place, with no clue how he got here - there's a good chance that whoever took him took the people around him as well.]

Dad? Michonne? Anyone?

[One more time just for good measure:]

Dad?

[He pauses for a moment, but the lack of immediate response is enough dissonance from what he remembers of cell phones from his world and enough to disappoint him slightly. Before turning off the feed, he pulls out the knife he was looking for in the first place and speaks one last time to the video. He's still addressing 'Dad' and 'Michonne,' if the tone of his voice is any indication and he does it with a smile on his face.]

If you're here...come find me.

[Left unsaid is the reminder that he'll handle himself until they do, but that they shouldn't take their time.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She was only half paying attention, really, when the name Michonne came in through the speakers. For the second time in just a couple of months. Eyebrows raised, Hazel paused in her latest sketch to reach over and pick up her communicator.]

You're a friend of Michonne's?

[He's not sure whether to answer that or not for a moment, because he doesn't know who this woman is and what her relationship to Michonne is. But then again, he's already made it clear that, yes, he is a friend of Michonne's just by mentioning her in his post. So he might as well...]

Yeah...are you?

[He seemed paranoid. After getting to know Michonne and her world, not to mention Mr. Grimes not too long ago, she understood. In fact, considering her own world and the trials and tribulations that came with being a 14-year-old demigod...she even empathized.]

We've spoken a few times since she'd been here. We even trained together recently.

She's very nice. And really good with that katana of hers.

[Even now that things were looking up just a little bit back at home, he hadn't let himself get weak yet. The way he talks is more reminiscent of an interrogation than friendly conversation.]

What's your name?

Hazel.

Hazel Levesque.

[A very French name, and with good reason; if Carl were to listen closely, he might detect hints of a New Orleans accent. She was very much a Southern Girl, no matter how long it had been since last visiting her place of birth.]

What's yours?

[He seems to be struggling with just...talking to someone his own age - without trying keep control of the conversation or being ready for a fight. He's edgy and tense, even if he has no real reason to be. It's something he was adjusting to, even after his family had settled in Alexandria. And if he's being honest, he didn't really expect her to ask him back.]

Carl...Grimes.

[Hazel remembered what that used to be like. The awkwardness--though, for her, it had stemmed from a completely different reason. Fear and Hesitation. Not of the other kids, exactly, but of how they might react to learning of her past.]

[After all, she and Frank had known one another for more than a year before she was willing to tell him everything.]

Grimes?

You mean like Rick Grimes? [Suddenly, things made a lot more sense.] I met him too.

Yeah, that's my dad. And I don't need any help finding him.

[Seriously, just about everyone who's answered his post jumped to help him find his dad, when he had it handled already. And it's starting to grind his nerves just a bit. He was looking for his dad and he found him and it wasn't even that hard. He knows how to handle himself.]

I wasn't going to offer.

I knew you two would find each other eventually. If you haven't already, you will.

[How did she know? Experience, mostly. Wonderland was only so big. And judging by how much Rick seemed to care for his son, and vice versa, it was only a matter of time.]

Good. I already found him, anyway, so...

[Because he totally handled it already. And he's totally tough and doesn't need any help. He's still being short and distant and a little rude. Why is Hazel is still talking to him.

[He should meet her half-brother some time. Compared to Nico in one of his moods, Carl was basically a social butterfly.]

That was fast. [Still, not even surprised.] Michonne too?

Yeah, Michonne, too.

[He pauses for just a moment to look at her quizzicaly. It's about time he just came out and asked.]

Why are you doing this?

[At the risk of seeming naively cliche, she mirrored his expression at the question. Genuinely confused.]

Doing what?

[She tried to think back. Had she inadvertently said something offensive? Made some weird gesture or facial expression?]

Being concerned...helpful. You don't even know me.

[For a moment, she appeared surprised. Not that he was so cautious to ask such a thing so much as the fact that the conversation was strangely similar to the one she'd had with Rick. Only in reverse, and her question had stemmed less from paranoia and more curiosity.]

[With a father willing to help a fourteen-year-old girl he'd only just met, why would Carl seem so thrown by a stranger's kindness.]

Because...I remember what it was like when I first woke up here.

And I also remember that I wasn't alone. And that not being alone helped.

[It's less that he expects her to be outright cruel or exploitative and more that he expects the help to come at a price. Which may or may not be cruel and exploitative. His response is indicative of the difference between being an adult when the world he's from ended and being a child when it happened. The difference that living your formative years in that hell makes.]

People aren't just nice anymore...not for free.

Edited 2015-04-24 20:28 (UTC)

[Sometimes they were. Sometimes they weren't. Hazel had known very few "nice" people in her previous life, lost the one that had meant the most to her, and...well...now she was trying to make up for it.]

Around here, they are. Mostly.

Except for the ones that aren't nice at all, but they're pretty easy to spot.

And...how do I know that you're not one of those people?

[That...was actually an easy one.]

Ask your dad.

He told me he was a good judge of character. He'll be able to tell you.

...I will.

[If she's a threat, she's not an immediate one. And using his dad as a reference isn't a bad move at all. His face softens for the first time in the entire conversation and he even...smiles a little bit?]

Thanks...Hazel.

[There. That's better.]

Anytime, Carl.

Good luck. Wonderland can be kind of weird....basically all the time. [Let's be honest. Even without the "events" taking place on a semi-regular basis.] But there are moments when it's not so bad.

[I'm technically safer here than I am at home.]

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