I don't wanna be the center of anything [Open]

[dirtyredneck]

WHO: Daryl Dixon, Mako Mori + Open
WHERE: Porter Cities & The House
WHEN: All November
WHAT: Catch-All!
WARNINGS: References Zombies Walkers, Kaiju, Abuse, General Violence and Gore are likely in a few threads.


Convention Circuit - A porter city near you
Having finally said goodbye to his Government assigned job, Daryl now had the free time to pursue projects he wanted to. For the most part. He was, however, still a contracted spokesman for Bow-Man Hunting and Hunting Season was well underway. With it came a convention circuit.

Daryl hadn't given much thought to the clause in his contract that had to do with personal appearances. He figured that he might have to make two, maybe three in a year because how many conventions could there be? 70. There were 70 conventions that Bow-Man Hunting had booths at. Every. Year. 26 for just the hunting and fishing industry. Not the general populace and 'enthusiasts', just the industry. The other 44 were the 'fan' conventions for the rest. The people that liked to go out like Daryl used to, for a weekend or a week in the woods. Or who wanted to prepare for a disaster, called themselves 'preppers'. Or for the rich asshole 'survival enthusiasts' who treated it all like a game. Gun shows, even, since families were often dragged along and left to 'ooh' and 'ahh' at whatever was in the dealer's hall and they could make a quick buck selling older models there along with their knife lines.

The only good part about the personal appearance clause was that he wasn't required to be at any shows (barring health or other negotiated absences) that weren't at the Porter Cities. The bad part was that he was required to be there for conventions in the Porter Cities. Which was why he could easily be found (looking very uncomfortable and grumpy, with shoulders hunched and arms crossed) by his adoring fans (Dear Lord how the hell did shooting one guy in the ass and posing for a couple pictures get him this much attention?) as well as people who actually wanted to talk shop.

Please, please, please, for the love of whatever you find holy or sacred or just downright okay, give him a 'business' reason to walk away from those fans crowding the side of the booth, taking pictures, and generally harassing him with a barrage of half-shouted questions and attempts to get his attention.


Enchilada Night - The House - November 3rd (open party for The Group, tag around/threadjack as you like)
Official purchase date had been October 23rd. Keys were handed out starting on the 25th. Official move-in date hadn't really been decided, as Daryl was still figuring out if he wanted to live on the property 'full time' or stick to the De Chima place. Mako's increased presence in day to day activity was pulling him closer and closer to Nonah as they'd have an easier time working their own personal touches into a new place than one of them taking up space somewhere the other had already established. Plus the De Chima house didn't really have space for the ravens Daryl was only a week or so away from formally adopting. The House did. And more they could add on to, as well.

Hell, he had already decided to move and just hadn't emotionally accepted it yet. He liked his housemates. Clark was quiet, but friendly enough. Betty always showed an interest in him and he was going to worry about her like crazy with Bruce still gone and her not knowing what to do with herself. And Catherine? He'd made her one of his almost as soon as he'd met her. They were kindred spirits from worlds where life as it was known in this one had ended.

Daryl wasn't really able to do a 'clean cut', but he could try to make the move-in more concrete. No better way to do that than with food. And free food, to boot. His last day on the job at the Cantina he'd been assigned to became something of a welcome-home move-in party. The restaurant was sad to see him go, but the employees had liked him well enough to fudge a few numbers on the books with 'remakes' and 'expired product' to send him packing with a good two dozen fresh enchiladas, a pile of tamales, and a few elotes.

Made for a great mini-feast with the family that none of them had to do the work for.


Wildcard/OOC
Daryl will largely be around Nonah and De Chima during November. Heropa will become less of a haunt the further into the month we get. If you've got an idea for a thread, you can post it or PM me to work it out beforehand so we're on the same page. And if you'd like a specific prompt, PM me and I'll set it up in the comments.

Also, feel free to tag in whatever style is most comfortable for you, I have no problem matching!

Comments

[redshoerevenge]

Purple wasn't so bad, though she wrinkled her nose at him a little and wiped at her cheek to examine it. And then reached across the space to dot his nose with it because turnabout was definitely fair play. It was a strange landscape, colorful, now, but strange. She breathed in and it as cold as she had ever remembered Alaska to be in the winter.

But this wasn't Alaska.

Her fingers tightened a fraction, her expression curious as she reached up again, this time to try and wipe the dot away.

[dirtyredneck]

The dot didn't budge. It sat on the tip of his nose like he'd been painted up to look like a bargain-bin Rudolph. Behind him the sky darkened to night and the stars came out to dance overhead, darting in and out of the Northern Lights. Little fireflies dancing around a sheer veil that kept the world warm.

Daryl pulled back from her - to the very limit of their hand hold - as he turned from her to watch the light show while it sunk lower and lower towards the horizon where the mountains of Georgia rose up to meet them. He tugged at her hand, urgin her to follow. He had a place he wanted to show her. The spot he used to run to when he needed to be away from home.

[redshoerevenge]

Mako tried not to laugh at his nose because it looked ridiculous, but when he tugged, she followed as easily as breathing, moving with him easily. It was beautiful, all of it,from the stars to the lights in the sky, to the mountains ahead.

She'd been here many times and not all at once and there was a hum that rose within her, familiar, and warm. Everyone needed spots to go. Everyone.

[dirtyredneck]

It wasn't the prettiest of places in the chill of the fall. The same as the first time he'd found it and the clearest vision he had of it. All the trees stripped half-bare and their leaves blanketing the ground. It held a melancholy air that drained it of color and left it oddly washed out, like an old picture taken in the seventies and yellowed with age. But it also held hope and Daryl's dreams of a better life than the one he'd had. Where his father didn't beat him anymore and Merle was around. Where he had a family that loved him in the way he'd seen on the old black and white shows that played in the afternoons between the end of the school day and Daddy getting home from work.

Daryl walked her into the small fort he'd built out of found timber, chicken wire, and a few moldy blankets tossed out by the neighbors. It didn't even keep him warm on the nights he's curled up in it, but it had kept the weather off. He'd learned how to build for that at least. Nearby brush and bushes pulled closer and bound by the wire to hide it for the better part of the year under heavy foliage.

His fingers tugged her to sit down with him and lean their backs against the big tree it was all gathered against. They could sit there and watch out the entrance. Like they were taking in a movie. Godzilla verses Mothma, maybe.

[redshoerevenge]

She sat, easily nestling against him, taking up as little space as she possibly could. Her soft hum of a comment the only thing she offered, a gentle acceptance of his safe space.

Good for hiding.

There was something beside him, half covered by leaves and the fold of a blanket, stark red in color waiting to be found by a stray hand. Mako didn't see it, too busy drawing warmth from Daryl's company to pay it mind. Her fingers closed around his hand a little more, drew it up close so she could rest her cheek against it for a moment.

They couldn't change the past, what had happened, the things they should have had. The lives they should have had.

They couldn't go back.

[dirtyredneck]

He let his hand sit there for a moment before stretching his fingers out and letting them rub soft lines against her skin. After a moment that felt like forever he managed to find the strength to pull that hand out of hers. Bangs were brushed back from her face and a bittersweet I'm here echoed quietly around them.

She was right that they couldn't change the past and it hurt. But he had hope for a better future and she was a part of that. A large part of that. A bright spot of determination and purpose.

Daryl tucked her under his arm and settled himself. His hand found the shoe as he did so. He picked it up and looked at it. The object meant so much to Mako. It was the symbol of her parent's death. The symbol of her father giving her life direction. The symbol of her need for revenge. The symbol of her anger. A bloodstain on the blue she surrounded herself with.

He moved it so she could see it.

Then he threw it as far as he could out the door of the hideaway. She could find it later, when she needed to draw on it for strength. Inside his secret place they could both be weak for a while and feel no shame for it.

[redshoerevenge]

Mako need it, the contact, even in here. But the sight of the shoe froze her in place as much as it drew wracking tremors from her. She heard it land, watched him throw it. Too much emotion. Her heart racing too hard, too fast, all at once, her breathing quick and light like she'd been running miles as she pressed herself against him to try and settle herself.

He was here. Daryl was.

She didn't need a shoe. She didn't need it here. But she shook as if that was a revelation, her fingers curling against whatever fabric of his found her fingers, her eyes tight with tears. She didn't need the shoe.

She had hope. Mako buried her nose against his neck, her breath warm as she let out a soft cry. That shoe was her past. It wasn't now, she didn't have to hold onto that anger, that fear, that moment.

The death.

So much death.

Mako's fingers found his cheek, his hair, and she half pulled away to just stare at his face for the longest time. They had each other, they were stronger, and there were a thousand other complex emotions that she couldn't begin to sort through. She needed him, wanted him, accepted him with everything in her. A second, third, fourth chance at something real. Something that wouldn't just break.

And if there was something outside that refuge, in the distance, that screaming roar, it couldn't get to them. It couldn't find them.