With his custom made leather jacket bearing a set of angel wings, Daryl considered himself dressed up like an angel. He knew it was a lame costume, but he didn't care, he had no interest in putting any effort into his attire.
"Rick." He acknowledged the sheriff with a nod, an almost defiant lift of his chin. Rick was the only person Daryl knew from before, in this place. He supposed if he could have chosen who would show up in hell to fight by his side, it'd be Rick. He just worried about the ones they left behind.
"'S fucked up, yeah?" He turned his head, gesturing vaguely at the ballroom. He wasn't exactly straggling, he just hadn't made it all the way to the party yet.