Daryl Dixon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dirtyredneck) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2017-05-22 08:12 pm
dirtyredneck) wrote in driftfleet2017-05-22 08:12 pm
Entry tags:
[video]
Who: Daryl Dixon
Broadcast: Unfiltered Fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva if anyone else is on it just yet (he's alone isn't he?)
When: Today
[The subject of this post obviously doesn't know he's being recorded. This is the Marsiva being all nice and broadcasting it's latest arrival's first steps in his new world for all the universe to see.
He's first shown wearing nothing but a frumpy, sweatsuit that's seen many, many, many better days (even with the cleaning that had happened) marked with an "A" on the front. His hair is in his face, dirty and greasy and it looks like it hadn't been washed in weeks. It hides his identity for the time being as he shuffles around the medical bay, quietly exploring his surroundings. He's rubbing at his right side, just below the shoulder, on his chest.
Every so often he reaches out to brush fingers lightly over a surface or an item as he moves out of the medical bay and into the main living quarters where he'll be for the week. Though he doesn't quite know that yet, of course. He keeps shuffling along until he reaches the bunks and lockers. He opens one to find clothing in his size.
The camera doesn't pan away as he shucks his sweatsuit - under which he's wearing nothing - and the scars littering his back are visible for all to see. A mess of parallel lines scattered across every inch of skin and interrupting the tattoo on the right half (a pair of what could be angels or could be demons, hard to tell). It's not visible for long, because he's quick to pulls on the offered briefs and undershirt. The jumpsuit comes next and it being sleeveless is a blessing to him because he prefers the sleeveless life. But in terms of viewership, it allows his nicely muscled arms to remain seen. Once more his fingers stray to his right side, just below his shoulder, on his chest. Like he expects something to be there that isn't.
He apparently has a thing against shoes because he doesn't pull any on as he turns back around, front to whatever camera was trained on him. Finally lifts his head enough for his face to be seen before he starts looking around for a communications array.
It's only when he gets to a console and brings up the menu that the video switches to a close up shot of his face. Exactly what one would expect from a ship to ship video feed.]
Alright, asshole, I'm pulling up the 'appropriate communication channels' so get your ass over here and answer me.
[The words came out as a low, annoyed grumble that didn't have much force to it. Apparently the silence of the feed up to that point had been intentional.]
Broadcast: Unfiltered Fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva if anyone else is on it just yet (he's alone isn't he?)
When: Today
[The subject of this post obviously doesn't know he's being recorded. This is the Marsiva being all nice and broadcasting it's latest arrival's first steps in his new world for all the universe to see.
He's first shown wearing nothing but a frumpy, sweatsuit that's seen many, many, many better days (even with the cleaning that had happened) marked with an "A" on the front. His hair is in his face, dirty and greasy and it looks like it hadn't been washed in weeks. It hides his identity for the time being as he shuffles around the medical bay, quietly exploring his surroundings. He's rubbing at his right side, just below the shoulder, on his chest.
Every so often he reaches out to brush fingers lightly over a surface or an item as he moves out of the medical bay and into the main living quarters where he'll be for the week. Though he doesn't quite know that yet, of course. He keeps shuffling along until he reaches the bunks and lockers. He opens one to find clothing in his size.
The camera doesn't pan away as he shucks his sweatsuit - under which he's wearing nothing - and the scars littering his back are visible for all to see. A mess of parallel lines scattered across every inch of skin and interrupting the tattoo on the right half (a pair of what could be angels or could be demons, hard to tell). It's not visible for long, because he's quick to pulls on the offered briefs and undershirt. The jumpsuit comes next and it being sleeveless is a blessing to him because he prefers the sleeveless life. But in terms of viewership, it allows his nicely muscled arms to remain seen. Once more his fingers stray to his right side, just below his shoulder, on his chest. Like he expects something to be there that isn't.
He apparently has a thing against shoes because he doesn't pull any on as he turns back around, front to whatever camera was trained on him. Finally lifts his head enough for his face to be seen before he starts looking around for a communications array.
It's only when he gets to a console and brings up the menu that the video switches to a close up shot of his face. Exactly what one would expect from a ship to ship video feed.]
Alright, asshole, I'm pulling up the 'appropriate communication channels' so get your ass over here and answer me.
[The words came out as a low, annoyed grumble that didn't have much force to it. Apparently the silence of the feed up to that point had been intentional.]
no subject
Taking a breath, she tries again. He'll see the video of her again, her long hair pulled up and her appearance clean and healthier than when they'd been on the road since Terminus.]
Daryl. Why are you avoidin' me? Did something happen?
[She knew enough, from others' experiences throughout the fleet, that time was not always set in place. She wanted to assume it was about Beth, but this was beyond that by the sounds of it. Sure they had been heartbroken about Beth and he'd even blamed himself as much as she blamed herself, and yet she never blamed him. He was her family just as much as the others.]
Just... just talk to me. Are you hurt? You're okay now. We're here.
[She speaks softly, as if she was coaxing a wild animal. Daryl was very much a wild animal when he wanted to be.]
no subject
His fault. It was his fault Glenn was gone and she knew it. How could she not? How could she just sit there looking all worried, like he mattered at all to her after what he'd done? Just one big sick joke and he couldn't even get mad at her over it.
Daryl wrapped his arms around his knees and didn't touch any of the buttons. He let the vision of her remain on screen. But he also didn't say anything. Just kept his head down and waited. Eventually she'd start taunting him. That's how his hallucinations with Merle had always gone. It would hurt, but it was better to let it run it's course.
He deserved it anyway.]
no subject
You don't have to talk if you don't want to, then. But I can try and fill in the blanks.
[Where could she even begin?]
You're on a ship called the Marsiva and you'll be there until the Atroma decide to send you to another assigned ship in the fleet. We don't get a say in any of it, but at least we're still in one piece so I've kind of just accepted it at that.
[Counting her blessings and all that. It wasn't always easy to do when she still had the lingering memory of hearing Beth in her head for days and seeing her lurking at every corner, taunting her. She'd gotten through it though. She'd survived. Daryl would survive this too.]
Carl is here with us in the fleet but he and I are on different ships. He's safe - we're all safe.
[She'll leave off the bits about the raiders trying to kill them or the Marsiva having a surprisingly large cannon and how they'd come so close to getting answers only for it to get snatched away.]
no subject
Daryl didn't so much as twitch while she spoke. He remained exactly as he had been. Waking for her to start slinging insults. Hoping she would, even. It would be more tolerable than this kindness.]
no subject
Daryl are you even in there? You're lookin' at me like you're as empty as a Walker. You haven't said nothin' since I messaged you. If you have a problem with me, I want to hear it.
[She didn't like this silent treatment or the staring. It was making her feel uneasy. Like there was something he wanted to say but couldn't. All it did was make her think of Beth and how their wounds were still so fresh from that - or maybe it was just hers and Daryl's.]
Tell me what happened. What you remember before you got here.
no subject
His words were so soft when they came, barely audible before he sucked in a hard sob.]
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
no subject
Daryl... whatever it is - I'm not upset. I just... I want to know you're okay. If your injuries need treating. I can't really help you while you're on the Marsiva, but when you're not - I can come see you. I can fix you up.
[She can't mend what is clearly a broken spirit, however. Those sorts of wounds take time.]
You're my family... just like Glenn and the rest. Whatever you need to apologize for, we can talk about it when you're ready. I just don't like you avoidin' me and giving me the silent treatment. We should be able to talk about things, don't you think?
[If she could reach out and hug him right now, or hold his hands in hers, she would. Instead she just presses her fingers to the screen, as if she can reach out and touch him.]
tw: violent imagry
He reached out blindly with one hand, the augment supplying him with the knowledge of what to press and where so he could cut the feed again and remove her face, her voice, from his presence. He couldn't take the kindness. He couldn't take it being thrown back at him when all he deserved was what he'd been getting from Dwight and the rest.
Daryl fumbled with the controls through his tears but he managed to find the signal she'd been on and block it before it could reestablish a connection for the third time. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to face whoever it was that was mocking him with her face. He wasn't nearly strong enough.
When he was certain he'd done it, he pushed the chair back and slid out of it. Then curled up under the console and let himself cry.]
no subject
Maggie knew that Daryl wasn't the type to be pushed and now she needed to take a break before she pushed herself too much. She wasn't even sure if she should talk to Carl about this. He was probably just as clueless as she was about why he was this upset.
For now, she leaves it be and focuses on her work, trying to bury any tears that stung at her eyes from the emotional exchange - if it could even be called an exchange when one party barely said a word.]