Daryl Dixon | The Walking Dead (crossbowed) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2013-11-02 20:28:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !log, !open, !trigger warning: zombies, ~2013 november, ~40 points, ~~daryl dixon (crossbowed), ~~lindir (the_minstrel) |
WHO: Daryl Dixon and OPEN!
WHAT: The world has changed
WHEN: Saturday evening
WHERE: Shipley's Tavern
WARNINGS: Zombies
STATUS: Open/Ongoing
Daryl wasn't the kind of guy to spend his time at what looked like a trendy city nightclub minus the strippers, so he hadn't gone to the Electric Lady. The tavern he found himself in was a lot more familiar. It was in a rather worn-down, beat up building, with a jukebox playing the country tunes he'd enjoyed before the Rising. Men sat around drinking beer (not those high priced fancy drinks) and talking about life, and women, and work, and women. It was the way things were supposed to be. It was familiar, and it was comfortable.
He came in and took a seat at one of the booths with his back to the wall (he couldn't bring himself to sit at the exposed barstools anymore) and ordered a good old Budweiser. He hadn't had a drink since he got here, but he felt that he deserved one now. Halloween was over, thank fuck. Why people enjoyed the idea of Walkers so much, he'd never understand, but it seemed like half the people in town had dressed up like 'em. Some of 'em were obvious enough that they didn't set off any triggers in Daryl's head. But some of 'em were like enough that he nearly put a bolt in their head before he realized that they were kids out for a nice night on the town.
Innocent kids who didn't now how much shit the world had gone to. It made him sad, and he wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe 'cause he never remembered being an innocent kid like that. Maybe 'cause so many of those kids ended up dead. Maybe 'cause their world was one that didn't exist anymore. Maybe 'cause he missed that world that he'd really never gotten a chance to enjoy.
Were people really so lighthearted? It had only been ten months, and yet his whole world was fucked. There wasn't nothin' left of the world that he'd grown up in. No TV. No Radio. No nothin' but surviving and killing Walkers before they killed you. Shaun and Georgia gave him hope that maybe things wouldn't be hell forever, but their world didn't seem so fantastic either.
He sipped his beer and shook his head, looking out the window into the night. It was still so hard to believe that it was safe here. No part of him wanted to believe it, not at all, and he didn't really want to lose those reflexes. They were what kept him alive, and a whole lot of other people alive.
He got up, crossed the room and dropped a quarter in the juke-box, smiling a bit sadly when it started playing an old Johnny Cash song. That was when he felt someone standing behind him, and on instinct every nerve in his body stood on end.
"Whoever's there, you'd better say somethin' right fucking now, or I'm gonna put a bolt in your damn brain."