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.]
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Don't know for sure. Paperwork on their end? Maybe a quarantine, but I was only there a matter of hours. It varies, but we just got a new arrival on my ship, so you're early in the cycle.
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Lucky me.
[Maybe it was all the Nancy Homemaker shit Negan had been talking up while he was hauling shit getting to him. Maybe he was seeing it cause of that asshole's bullshit.
Maybe he was dead. In purgatory. And the God he stopped believing in a long time ago was having a laugh at his expense.]
How do I get back? That something that happens around here or I just gotta wait for someone to kick me awake?
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No proof of anything. No proven way to get yourself gone or to stay longer if that's more your thing.
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[He was already trapped inside his head with his own thoughts most of the time. Didn't need it to be so colorful and weird. Disconnected from reality.
After a moment he dropped his head and muttered:]
Least there's no music.
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His last words are...curious.]
Not a fan of music?
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All we gots is choices. And whatever comes of makin'em.
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Any chance you'll choose to tell me your name?
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Nah.
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What do you want to know about this place?
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Nothin'. Just wanna wake up. Get it over with.
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And you're not going to just wake up from this. You're going to have to make those choices and deal with what comes of them.
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Interesting she mention the Prison though. He didn't remember any ice cream there, but maybe she'd been a face from Woodbury. Heard they'd had the means to make ice cream still before it all got destroyed.
He huffed out some air and shook his head. He was getting tired of this run-around and she weren't the only face trying to convince him of this shit.]
Whatever.
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Where are you from?
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[Because that was where he was from. Even if he was now 'from' Alexandria. Georgia's where he'd been all his life right up until a few months ago. Hard to think of himself as from anywhere else with all that stacked up behind him.]
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I think I've been to Atlanta before. I've been a lot of places.
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Re: video
His expression turned into a scowl and he curled up again, legs to his chest and arms around his knees. One thumb at his mouth so he could chew the skin around his nail.]
Whatever.
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