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Private can i stay

Discussion in 'Pandopolis' started by Daryl Dixon, Jun 7, 2019.

  1. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl snorted. He wasn't a shots kind of guy, not really - put a beer in front of him or a glass of something hard and he was good, but shots were for dirty bars with his brother egging him on - hangovers so bad he might as well have not got up the next morning. But a drink might be alright, just a couple - he wasn't gonna come back to the woods shitfaced or nothing.

    Just enough to get him tipsy.

    Any more and he knew he was liable to turn, his temper razor thin when liquor was involved (or at any other point really, even tempers were not a Dixon trait) and lord knew he had enough ammo, what with feeling closer to Jesus than he had any right to.

    "Ain't carryin' you back if they knock you out," Daryl said, turning his gaze fully to him for a moment, looking him over - he knew he had muscles but he was still pretty damn small - he doubted he could hold his liquor too well. He'd never gotten the chance to find out back home.

    He didn't' know what to do with the vague disappointment that realization brought. ​
     
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  2. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    "The same goes to you. I'm not carrying you back either. Let you pass out in the bar and wake up there. Steal your dog in the meantime." He grinned towards the forest floor as his fingers flexed against the bag strap. Kidding, of course. The least he could do was prop him up in a chair before he stole his dog. That's what an ally does right? Ally.

    Head cocked at a side angle, he peeked over towards Daryl again and swore he caught him looking at him like he was measuring him up some. Then again? That's the same look Daryl's been giving him when he thought he didn't notice since he got here. Trying to figure out what to do with him. Or. Well. Simply trying to figure him out.

    He'd save the question that came to mind for later. When their mouths tasted like whiskey barrels and there was a haze of alcohol between them to either take the blame for loose lips. Or to earn the title for real.

    One thing was for certain, though. They were going to have that drink.

    "We should get a couple bags worth of things beforehand. Make sure we don't forget the real reason why we're going there. You know? So I'm out of your hair as quickly as possible.."
     
  3. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl let out something that could almost have been a laugh, was more a snort. "Ain't happenin'," he said. He'd been drinking since - shit, how old was Jesus? Maybe almost as long as the man'd been alive (he'd started early, wasn't like Merle or his dad cared enough to stop him and after a certain age, hell, Merle encouraged it).

    Plus, he was sure Dog wouldn't abandon him.

    Probably. He was following awfully close to Jesus' heels.

    Daryl continued on, taking them toward the path that would lead them to the portals at Centria, even though he fucking hated them. Was the quickest way to get there though, and he wasn't sitting his ass on a bus for an hour just to get there.

    He huffed. "Still gonna take a while to set up camp," he told him. "Specially if we drink first. Tomorrow at the soonest, so you can quit with that," he said, a little sore. Let him think it was cos he was tired of hearing him say it, and not the fact that every time he thought about Jesus getting out of his hair he felt a little panicky inside. ​
     
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  4. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    "Okay. I can let it go.."

    Or you could tell me you want me to stay..if that's what you want.

    Paul's tongue slipped between his lips when Daryl told him to let him leaving as quickly as possible go. It'd been a purposeful query. One that he was going to judge how badly Daryl did want him gone off of. Maybe strong enough for him to part his ways inside a city. Or not. Because the idea of walking off and leaving Daryl and Dog to retreat back to the woods didn't settle right with him when Daryl left Aaron's. That much wasn't going to change no matter if they were in a city or not.

    Creeping suspicions though. They're hard to shake.

    When they came upon the portals, Paul's steps slowed and he took in the sight with an apprehensive, slow glance towards Daryl. Almost going without saying, he was more than a little off put by whatever the hell these things were. Wasn't there..a bus? Or..they could walk? Walking was fine in Paul's book. Sort of fit in with the whole Jesus thing, right?

    "You should never doubt that I trust you.. Not after this.." Definitely not after this.
     
    #24 Paul Rovia, Jun 10, 2019
    Last edited: Jun 10, 2019
  5. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl gave a jerking sort of nod, glad that Jesus was willing to let it rest. Maybe by the time they got back he'd forget or something - Daryl doubted it, 'specially since they were going to get supplies just so he could go off on his own.

    He let the silence linger as they walked the rest of the way toward the portals, and Daryl's gaze was wary even though he approached them without hesitation. Dog didn't seem to mind at all, tail wagging as he followed Jesus, and Daryl headed toward the portal that would take them to Pandopolis.

    Jesus though, he did slow and Daryl turned to look at him. He looked a little apprehensive - Daryl got that. Portals were future shit. Daryl was still worried he'd step in and come out like a chopped salad or something, but he'd never been the type to run away from something scary. At least. Physically scary (emotions? That was a whole other boat).

    He blinked, staring at him for a beat or two too long, the urge to reachout and hold his hand so great that his fingers twitched.

    What the fuck.

    "You'll be alright," Daryl said, a hair too soft, and he swallowed, turning and stepping through the portal before he could spend another second staring at him. ​
     
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  6. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    Probably shouldn't have stopped. Because when he stopped? Paul had a second to think about what he was going to do. Step through something and step out of it in a completely different area without taking one extra step. Would it take him to pieces and glue him back together again? Feel like he got sucked in some tube and spit out the other end?

    A million and one ideas ran through his head. Some fascinating, some good. Some..not very good at all. Where was his adventurous side now? The one that should jump right in just to see what was on the other side? He wished he could connect those two together. Instead of standing here as his insides cringed at the idea of walking through.

    Daryl noticed. The reassurance bright a touch of color to Paul's cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. It wasn't his intention to look so gun shy about getting this done. His fingers tightened on the strap of his bag and blowing a breath through his nose, he nodded towards Daryl and remembered the words he kept on repeat in his head until that whole portal idea snapped them out.

    I trust you.

    One long inhale and he walked to the edge, steeled his jaw and entered.
     
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  7. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl got to the other side and immediately turned to look for Paul, a curl of anxiety in the pit of his gut, even though he knew he was gonna be fine. Plenty of people used the portals every day - he hadn't heard nothin' about people going missin' or anything, but still, it was a damn relief when Paul emerged (Dog trotting happily at his side, apparently not giving one single shit about the oddity of the situation).

    "Alright?" he asked, stepping away from the portal entrance, glancing briefly at the large statues nearby before looking back to Jesus. He looked just fine, but Daryl hoped it hadn't been too startling for him.

    After all, he hadn't really seen much around here 'cept for Aaron's. It was still an adjustment.

    "C'mon," he said, jerking his head toward the door, which would lead them out into the city. He could feel the uncomfortable itch, that feeling of not quite belonging - he'd always done best far away from people - he wasn't sure he'd ever been to no big city before the world ended. Wasn't no need to. ​
     
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  8. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    Paul, if he were only a tiny bit less graceful, would have tripped over his feet on his way out of that portal he was looking over his shoulder at for far too many forward steps. Bewilderment had his jaw slack and eyes wider than normal. Snapped to the here and now by Daryl's question, he briefly met his eyes and nodded while he patted the strap of the bag on his shoulder as if he were convinced it might not've made the trip.

    Everything did, though.

    Bag, toes, fingers, face. All there. "Fine. I'm fine," he mumbled peeling his attention from the statues on the other side of the portal and aiming it towards Daryl and Dog again. Once caught up to him, he shot a smile towards the ground and felt a slight chill creep up his back.

    "Is it bad that that wasn't the strangest thing I think I've ever done considering where we came from? But, definitely, the one thing I never imagined I'd ever be doing in my lifetime that has me wondering if I've--completely--lost my mind?"
     
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  9. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl bit back a smirk as Jesus seemed to take a moment to convince himself he'd come through all intact. Daryl was just glad nobody had been with him the first time he'd gone through - he'd been sweating bullets and had needed three cigarettes to calm down after. But he wasn't tellin' Jesus that.

    He snorted. "Y'haven't, but I bet yer gonna think that bout ten times before we're through," he said with a shrug, emerging outside, out toward the bridge that would take them across the river to the city proper. The building behind them was tall as hell, but Daryl didn't turn back to look at it. The whole place unnerved him somewhat - it was a mishmash of different styles, jarring to look at if he cared to concentrate enough, but it was definitely a city, filled with people, enough to make him tense, shoulders stiff and drawn slightly up toward his ears.

    He knew they had to head toward The Bazaar, over in River Town, but he wasn't in a particular hurry to get there. ​
     
  10. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    Paul, on the other hand?

    Couldn't keep his gaze from darting all around their surroundings. From the building behind them to whatever laid ahead? Blue eyes flittered their measuring stare from this to that and everywhere in between.

    He hadn't realized he reached out and rested his head on Daryl's arm the further they went. As if needing something to touch to keep himself aware that he hasn't fallen asleep and this isn't some sort of fever dream that he's going to snap awake from just as the gnashing teeth of one of the dead latched onto him. Or back on the ground sprawled out underneath the truck rather than the truck door that united the two of them in their first meeting. Via a punch to his face and a knock to his head, all for just trying to do what they were doing.

    The faintest tug strengthened his hold as he walked backwards a few steps to watch as building after building became a backdrop to the tall skyscraper they walked out of. Life. It burst through the seams here. The streets were full of it. People. Alive. Like nothing had ever happened at all. How many of them were pulled here? How many of them were already here? It was impossible to tell and..

    Dizzy. He was dizzy with the ideas that came rushing in. "I never thought I'd see anything like this again. Got used to the idea, too.." Perhaps a little too used to it?
     
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  11. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl eyed him, a tiny furrow between his brow. Jesus looked gobsmacked, which was understandable, he guessed. Them big ass buildings sure were something to see after living in Alexandria - hell, Jesus had been at Hilltop, which was far simpler than the fancyass houses at the safe zone.

    His eyes narrowed at the touch to his arm, though he didn't shake him off. He was afraid he might just lose him - there weren't too many people, but enough that if Jesus kept lollygagging, staring up at the buildings, he might find himself separated.

    So, Daryl let him hold on, rolling his eyes when he refused to let go. "Yeah," Daryl said, succinct. It wasn't nothin' he'd ever thought about - this kinda place wouldn't have been what he'd have gone back to if the end of the world had ended up reversed.

    He let Jesus stare for another moment or two before giving him a nudge. "C'mon. Y'can look all you want on the way t'the Bazaar, but if y'wanna get those drinks, y'gotta get yer ass into gear," he said. ​
     
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  12. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    Forcing himself to breathe felt strange. Or maybe it was because he had his head tilted back far too long but when Daryl nudged him, Paul was brought back down to Earth (or Pandora?) and gave the other man an apologetic look. Then another, vaguely embarrassed cringe when he pulled his hand free and promptly stuffed it in his pocket.

    "Drinks. Right. Drinks. Those are even more of a necessity." Tearing his gaze back towards the street ahead of them was certainly better than keeping staring up or over at Daryl. Pretty soon, he was going to give the man a complex if he kept gawking at him.

    Daryl was familiar..

    The rest of this? Not so much. For once in his life? Paul appreciated familiar while he absorbed the rest of his new life that wasn't. He's gone soft, apparently. Too much time with the people at Hilltop or the Kingdom and less time out on his own. Like an alley cat stuck between two houses when you've started having feelings for the two families that've taken you in under their care. Then disappeared leaving him realizing..maybe having to keep going back and making sure both were okay..both being taken care of? Had become something he relied on having more than he realized he had.

    A new life. A very busy new life in this city. Without the dead spilling out like tar from a broken pipe ready to drown you. "Consider my ass in gear, Daryl.."
     
  13. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    He snorted, shaking his head. Drinks might not be the best idea, considerin' all Jesus had to wrap his head around (a hangover probably wouldn’t help much) but Daryl certainly wasn't gonna dissuade him. It'd been a while since he'd had one and it'd been long enough to forget the kind of shit he did when he was more than buzzed.

    Daryl grunted, jerking forward - glad his ears were covered by hair he hadn't bothered t'get cut because his gaze had snapped toward Jesus' ass at the mention and - shit, he really did need that damn drink.

    He led the way toward the Bazaar, not saying much on the way. Wasn't really the type for a running commentary. He didn't have to focus very much on where he was going, in fact, it was easier if he didn't, mind occupied by other thoughts as his feet traced a path that he apparently knew.

    He hesitated, only once, as they neared the Bazaar. It was crowded, street stalls with plenty of shit to be sold - lots of useless shit but plenty they needed too, the press of people enough to make him wary, if only for a moment or two. "We're only here shit y'actually need," Daryl told him, glancing at him. "Don't have enough for anything else."
     
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  14. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    Daryl got a pass. He didn't see him looking at his ass. Oh, it was a lucky day for Daryl Dixon.

    As they moved through the Bazaar, Paul paid more attention to where they were going and the booths themselves rather than the man beside him. Fingers trailed over things he never thought he'd see again. Others he had no idea of what they were, too. When he was given the explicit instruction to only pick out the things he needed, his eyes rolled and he chortled. "You mean to tell me I can't get a toy? Wow. Way to ruin my excitement."

    Gaze lifted up at Daryl's profile, he smirked. "Better be careful. I don't want you telling me I have to go wait in the car." Pausing by a booth with various sorts of knives, tactical gear and equipment, he squinted down at the rather impressive curved, titanium (or is it something close?) knife laying out on display.

    "I will find a way to pay you back, by the way." Because he wasn't going to get him arrested by getting caught attempting to pocket a few things. Who knows if this place has some sort of magic security system or something? Or what the laws (and the punishments) were..
     
  15. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl's attention strayed toward the people around them, cautiously alert - they were probably all alright, but Daryl had yet to shake the hypervigilance that had come from bein' in a world where the dead wanted t'eat yer face off and the living sometimes weren't much better.

    Better to be safe than sorry.

    He rolled his eyes, snorting - the only sign of his amusement the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth. He paused at Jesus' side, gaze sliding toward the knives - he wondered if Jesus had come in with any weapons - Daryl hadn't remembered him having any on him, that day he'd chased him through a field.

    Daryl huffed, giving his head a little shake. "Don't need t'pay me back," he said. Wasn't like he needed money for much anyway - and he could always take down another critter to get some, if he really did. He didn't want Jesus thinkin' he owed him nothin'. Daryl reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins, about all he had left. Should get him a few things. He wasn't gonna make him ask him for permission before he picked nothin' - he was an adult, he could make his own choices - so Daryl reached out to hand him the coins.

    "Here," he said. ​
     
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  16. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    The coins shined in his palm when they were handed over.

    Paul barely could form the words he wanted to say. Wrapping his head around the idea that Daryl was so willing to help him should be easy by now. Since he showed up in Pandora? All Daryl's tried to do was help. Help him get better. Help him get situated. Meet Aaron. Learn more about this place. Daryl's willingness to step in and help was endless and, frankly, overwhelming to him. He'd been so used to fending for himself, for others. For making due when he had to. Or helping others get by. It was his nature to do so now. Yet accepting help? That was going to take him some getting used to.

    His mouth opened and closed and his free hand moved out to grip Daryl's shoulder. The squeeze said all there needed to be said and with a draw of breath through parted lips, he turned to the seller and purchased two with a few coins left to spare.

    "All I need are these." He has the clothes on his back, weapons. "Maybe a blanket. Or something to sleep on. Know where we can find those?" He's not going to spend all this money. It looked like it was all Daryl had and he's not going to spend the man's last dollar..er..coin. Not without a means of making more yet..
     
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  17. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl swallowed, something complicated happening in his chest as Jesus' hand squeezed his shoulder. It was just some damn coins it wasn't - it wasn't nothin' special. Nothin' that should have Jesus reactin' like that. It made his throat feel too tight, the urge to press into the touch and shrug it off equally strong, though in the end it was too quick for him to do anything at all - Jesus was busy buyin' the knives he'd been looking at.

    Weapons were the most important thing, weren't they. At home, at least. Couldn't do shit without at least a knife - though he guessed y'could kill the dead in other ways. Just wasn't as easy slammin' their heads against a rock or tree as it was to stab them.

    "Yeah," he said, jerking his head down the aisle. There were stalls for just about everything there - could easily find some blankets, a sleeping bag, maybe a tarp for a lean to if Jesus didn't want no tent. He led him down the aisles, pointing out what he might want to buy - sleeping bag, blankets, stuff to make a shelter - there was a place to get phones too, they were a little expensive, but worth it if Jesus chose to get one. ​
     
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  18. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    If they were going to spend time outdoors. His knives would be more helpful than not. Daryl mentioned monsters earlier. They'd be helpful there, too. If something ever happened. And who knew what else might show up? If all of them were brought here? What would happen if one of the dead were, too? It's a long shot. Paranoid even. But being prepared kept him alive in their world. Why break tradition?

    One thing was for certain. His effect he had on Daryl with the slightest touch or his general presence was a mixed bag of known and unknown. He knows there's times when Daryl can barely look at him and there's others were Daryl seems like he has to look at him when he thinks Paul doesn't notice. Oh, there are plenty of times Paul doesn't--because Daryl is good at what he does--but there have been a handful of times where he's seen it. From the corners of his eyes or in the reflection of something nearby. And the look Daryl gets? Digs in deep, makes him wonder things..

    No questions get asked though.

    Because Daryl will clam up. He's seen it enough to figure that out now.

    What he doesn't see...is how his touch dug in deep this time. Stuffing his knives into the bag that was now their bag the second his belongings were stuffed in, Paul stopped and bought a sleeping bag with a draw string he could sling over his shoulder and a small tent. "Maybe one of these days a cabin will magically appear out in the middle of nowhere," he murmured down at the phone table and decided against it. They're too spendy and he's made it this long without one. He can wait until there's more money to be had.

    Instead, he picks up a canteen and another larger duffle bag to stuff everything in and hands the rest of the money back to Daryl. "This is a good start.. The rest can wait.."
     
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  19. Daryl Dixon

    Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

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    Daryl snorted, gaze fixed on a table nearby - it was filled with kitchy crap - the sort of things old ladies had on their cabinets and shit. Dog would occasionally press against his leg, but his attention was mostly caught by all the people around - Daryl was pretty sure the dog had never seen so many people alive. Bodies in this number? Usually a horde and that was bad news. Daryl was glad he wasn't freaking out.

    His gaze slid over the phones for a moment and then away, up to Jesus who apparently was gonna pass. Which meant any time Daryl wanted (no, needed) to get ahold of him, he'd have to traipse his ass through the woods which - hell, wasn't like he wasn't used to that. He eyed the other items Jesus picked up, a faint tilt of approval to his jaw - he'd gotten everything he could need to start him off, enough to make sure he could survive out in the woods.

    He thought about refusing the money for a moment or two but knew that Jesus would fuss about it, so he took it and shoved it back in his pocket.

    "Alright," Daryl said, giving his head a nod. "Y'still want that drink?" he asked.. A bit of liquor or hell, even a beer, would hit the spot right about now, after spending so long walking around the bazaar looking for shit. ​
     
  20. Paul Rovia

    Paul Rovia The Walking Dead

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    Paul felt a sigh of relief deflate his chest when Daryl palmed the change. Good. That was an argument he'd rather they both avoid. Seeing as how they were stubborn as hell? Neither one of them would've left that conversation in good spirits. And they had enough on their minds to add that to the list.

    Yes, he would make a fuss about Daryl not taking his own money back. Because it wasn't his and he'd done nothing to earn what he used to purchase the things he needed. Much less keep anything extra. That'd be too much to ask for and nothing he'd ever be okay with. Supplies situated in his bag at last, he slung the weight of it over his shoulder then thought better and looped both arms through the straps before nodding.

    "Yes. Yes, I could.."

    A drink sounded perfect. Anything to relax and shake off the creepy feeling of being around so many people in such a cramped space. Paul was never much for being in overly crowded places. Not to the point of paranoia but he'd just rather not. It came in handy for living in the new world. Not relying on being in crowds or needing that sort of companionship. Turns out?

    Seems like the end of the old world implanted that sense far deeper than he thought it had.
     
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