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Post by Daryl Dixon on Dec 16, 2012 23:11:54 GMT -5
Daryl had killed one walker since he had been here. One more than what he wanted to anyway. Daryl was still on the move, using that guy s land that he had stolen as a home base. He needed a home base since this was a strange new land and Daryl didn’t know how big the place was or how long he was going to be here.
The redneck had met a few strange people while being here, ones that he wouldn’t care if he ran into again. He knew what they all thought of him and they weren’t pleasant thoughts. He was used to it though. He had to live with it being in the group he was in, though they eventually accepted him and he became a member, having a say in what went on in the group. He even had taken to the baby that Lori had died for, the girl he called his little ass kicker. He had done the first run into town for the kid and he wasn’t about to loose her.
Daryl continued to walk through the forest, still wearing his jeans and plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off. He also had on some boots. He wasn’t about to change his clothes either. Daryl also gripped his cross bow and he looked around. He was still keeping an eye out for walkers. He was afraid that they were going to have more eventually because he was here and one had gotten through some how. Daryl had heard something behind him. He pointed his cross bow up, ready to fire.
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Post by Faith Lehane on Dec 17, 2012 9:05:17 GMT -5
Though she was new to the place, the novelty value of living in a medieval city had worn off pretty quickly for Faith. There just wasn't anything to do. Sure, there was a bar - a tavern, she needed to keep reminding herself - and that training ground, but there were no clubs, no vampires to stake, and nowhere for her to just hang out and be herself.
So she had taken it upon herself to visit the local inn, where she'd found a notice board with bounties pinned to it. Most of them were for monsters, but a couple were for criminals, and at the end of the day, chasing dragons and boogeymen sounded right up her street. At least it would get her out of the routine she'd invented - get up, go training, mooch around the market, go to the tavern, go to bed.
Faith was probably way more used to the idea of monsters than most people. After all, the last seven years of her life had been spent hunting them down. She had raided the little chest in her shack for the weapons she had fortunately had on her person when she'd turned up in Aledon, and had come out with her favorite knife, her crossbow and a couple of stakes.
Her crossbow felt heavy on her back as she moved silently through the woods, glancing at the bounty note in her hand every couple of minutes. She was hunting a trio of harpies who were apparently nesting in a nearby crumbling fort. Though there had been bigger game like chimeras and wyverns on the list, she figured she should start small and work her way up.
She heard a noise up ahead, and froze, her eyes widening. She hoped her dark clothing - which consisted of a pair of black cloth pants, black boots, a forest green shirt and a dark cape - would keep her hidden. As quietly as she could, she pulled her knife from the sheath on her chest. It came with a slight sound, the metal rubbing lightly against the leather case. She could throw it if she needed to.
She crept forwards a few more inches. A strip of bark crunched under her foot and she flinched.
Nobody had said anything about anything being in these woods apart from a couple of farmers and maybe some cows. Angling her head, she squinted through the trees. It was a guy. She breathed out a low, quiet stream of air, trying to force her heart to stop racing. It was both exciting and a little scary. She wondered if he would move, if he had heard her at all.
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Post by Daryl Dixon on Dec 17, 2012 15:55:37 GMT -5
The redneck continued to stare at the mass of trees in front of him, still on guard because of the walker he had found earlier. Daryl Dixon wasn't going to take any chances since he had the chance of being bitten here as well and since he had been infected already, it would just make it go faster. Heals had to make sure that if he was to be killed, they would destroy his brain. There was no way that he was going to become a walker. He wouldn't want that.
Daryl stepped closer to the noise coming from the trees. He still had his cross bow held up ready to fire it if he had too. Daryl knew that it would be so much easier if he had people from his group here or maybe even his brother here with him. Daryl had the jumped out to see a young woman with brunette hair. She too had a cross bow among other things. Daryl studied her and then partially lowered his weapon. She. Wasn't a walker so there was no threat, yet. She still had weapons and couldn't be taken lightly.
"who are you?" Daryl demanded. He really didn't know how to start this conversation. He didn't know if he could even trust her.
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Post by Faith Lehane on Dec 18, 2012 17:48:07 GMT -5
Faith hadn't expected the guy to come at her so quickly. She had been watching him, sure, but most people were generally quite dumb, which meant their reflexes were slow. Well, slower than hers. As it was, as the man leaped at her, Faith bounced backwards on the balls of her feet, ducking her head slightly. It was the slayer's automatic reaction - the neck was a prime target for any enemy. Especially a vampire.
She held her knife out like a stake, ready to stab if he decided that she wasn't worth sparing. He had a crossbow too - a pretty neat looking one - and as she flicked her gaze over him quickly, she realised he was wearing jeans. That meant he wasn't from around here. She doubted denim had even been invented yet.
His accent was rough - a southerner, a redneck. Faith couldn't place exactly whereabouts though. Still, it was almost comforting to hear the twangy American tones. She had heard enough of the vague, unplaceable peasant accent to last her a few lifetimes. In spite of the slight gratefulness she felt towards the familiarity, she didn't drop her guard. Even if his weapon was towards the ground rather than at her face, he was still a threat.
She jerked her head a little in response to his question. Honesty was probably the best policy here. "Faith. Who're you?" she turned his query back on him. Her voice wasn't hostile, but it wasn't particularly pleasant either.
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Post by Daryl Dixon on Dec 18, 2012 22:34:20 GMT -5
Daryl Dixon looked at the young girl with brunette hair. She was young, but couldn't be much younger than himself, she looked to be about Maggie's age, maybe older than that even. She held a knife up, ready to attack him as he was ready to attack her. Just because she was a girl didn't mean that she couldn't defend herself and fight. He knew from experience looking at Carol, Lori, Andrea and even Michonne, the woman he had only known for a short time but was able to tell that she could stand her ground.
Daryl stared at her when she gave him her name. She sounded American. That made Daryl feel a little better though he still didn't know if she was from his universe with the walkers or not. The redneck just stared at he r holding the knife. He was sure that she knew how to use the thing and if the two had gotten into a fight that it would be a tough one. From the way she stood and even looked, Daryl could tell she was trained.
"Daryl." Daryl replied to her, offering his name as well. He had no reason not to yet. He still didn't lower his cross bow, he just held it half way down. "where you from?" Daryl then asked her curiously, wondering if she would ask him any questions.
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Post by Faith Lehane on Dec 19, 2012 16:15:32 GMT -5
Faith shifted the knife in her hand, her palms growing a little slick from the tension. She was eighty percent sure that he wasn't about to put a bolt in her head, but eighty wasn't as good as one hundred.
He probably knew how to use the crossbow. He had that rough, rugged look of a man forced to fight a lot. She had no idea how; maybe there were vampires and demons where he came from. She, along with the Scooby Gang, were well aware that the Sunnydale hellmouth wasn't the only one in the world. Maybe there was one further south that they hadn't noticed.
Not that it mattered now. She couldn't help anybody or slay any modern vamps when she was stuck in the freaking tenth century. She had her suspicions that there might be vampires in Aledon somewhere, but God only knew their location. They probably camped out in caves and stuff here. And how were they killed?
Stupid teleportation spell, or whatever it had been that had brought her to Aledon. "Daryl. Right. I'm from Boston, but I just got out of Sunnyhell," she told him, and then remembered that, whilst it was a damn good nickname 'Sunnyhell' was not on a map.
"I mean, Sunnydale. It was in California. And you? I'm guessing you're not a local, judging by your threads," she amended, gesturing to his pants and shirt. She lowered her knife a little bit, and debated replacing it into the sheath. She knew she was quick enough to get it out again in a heartbeat.
But then, she still didn't really know who Daryl was. Or what. Her Slayer senses weren't tingling, yet she still didn't trust him completely. Any man who just waltzed around with a crossbow in his hands was ready for trouble - perhaps he was being hunted by someone.
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Post by Daryl Dixon on Dec 19, 2012 20:25:05 GMT -5
Daryl looked at Faith. He was still studying her. She was still holding her knife, which made him wonder if he put his crossbow down she would put the knife down. No, she hadn’t attacked him yet, so that probably meant she wouldn’t later on unless he really pissed her off. If she wanted him dead he figured that he would be dead by now. Daryl put the cross bow down to his side, waiting to see what she was going to do, though he figured she would lower the knife since after studying her for a while, she wouldn’t attack him.
Daryl listened to her speak. She repeated his name and she said she was from Boston, but had left a place called Sunnyhell. He only figured that it was a nickname for a town with sunny in front of it. Maybe she was from his world and this sunny place was ridden with Walkers and she had gotten out alright. No, she looked like she wasn’t from his world. It mostly came down to how she looked. She was dressed neater and frankly, looked like she had just taken a shower. She then went on and said that she meant Sunnydale which was in California. She then asked where he was from.
“Atlanta area of Georgia, more of the mountains of north Georgia.” Daryl replied to her question. “so what is your world like? I learned that this place has people from other worlds. I’m takin’ a guess and sayin’ you aint from my world.” Daryl had then said, not meaning it as an insult or anything. She was lucky to not be in his world. He would give anything to just remain here, though he knew he had to get back to his to help take care of the camp, and everyone he had learned to care about over time.
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Post by Faith Lehane on Dec 21, 2012 11:50:11 GMT -5
In the presence of Daryl, whose accent was rather thick, Faith felt her own accent coming through stronger. It was a natural reaction to the familiarity of it all, and she was intensely aware of it. Just like she was aware of everything else - her own breathing, controlled and even; the caw of a bird further on in the woods; the smell of cold pine that stung her nose as she breathed it in. The warm steel of her knife, comforting and heavy.
Her eyes followed his crossbow as it lowered further, and her own arm almost subconsciously mirrored the movement - her shoulders dropped, nowhere near as tense as they had been before, and the knife was moved lower to her thigh. It was pointed downwards, no longer an immediate threat to the Georgian. "I've never been down to Atlanta," she told him.
Wow. Lame. Good one, Faith. How is that even relevant? [/i] "An' how do you figure that our worlds aren't the same one? You got that survivor look about you. I know it. Sunnydale was sat on top of a hellmouth - a portal to a hell dimension. I'm a vampire slayer. Used to be that there were jus' two of us, but there's a whole lot more now. Not just fighting vampires. Demons too, all kinds of nasty things."She hadn't talked about the hellmouth or Sunnydale since she had arrived in Aldeon, and she was surprised at how much lighter she felt with it in the open. She knew that guys couldn't be vampire slayers so she wondered what it was that he had fought. Maybe he was just a soldier, and all this curiosity about his demons was just that - curiosity. In which case, she'd come off like a headcase rambling on about vampires.[/blockquote]
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Post by Daryl Dixon on Dec 29, 2012 19:21:59 GMT -5
Daryl Dixon looked at Faith and he wondered if she really was dangerous. The way they were talking, if they both wanted to kill each other they would be dead already, judging the way she stood and the way he did they were both fighters. She then said that she had never been down to Atlanta. Daryl gave it a small shrug. “aint nothin’ special. Not now anyway.” Daryl replied to her about Atlanta Georgia. The place was over run with walkers. It wasn’t a good place to be. No city is a good place to be in his world.
Daryl had looked at her when she asked how their worlds weren’t the same one. She said that he had the survivor look to him and he mentioned the town again and that it was on something called a hellmouth, which is a portal to hell. She said that she is a vampire slayer and that there used to be two but now there are more. She said there were also demons and all kinds of nasty things.
“nothin’ like that in my world. I’m from a world where somethin’ broke out and now everyone is infected with this disease I guess is what it is. Everyone whose infection worsened, and they die. After they die they become the living dead, we call ‘em walkers” Daryl said to her, trying to explain to her what his world is like. “if you get bit, your infection worsens. And as for guessin’ why we aint from the same world? You look too… clean.” Daryl said in a nice way.
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