Daryl Dixon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dirtyredneck) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
wilderlogs2018-04-03 08:53 pm
dirtyredneck) wrote in wilderlogs2018-04-03 08:53 pm
Entry tags:
Dreams ain't usually this clear [Open]
Who: Daryl Dixon and you
What: Scavenging and Hunting and Generally getting a feel for the group
Where: Camp 1: Melai Temple
When: second day of camp onward
Warnings/Notes: third prompt has a mildly graphic description of Daryl eating a dead animal with the express purpose of grossing someone out.
1. Arrival
Daryl wasn't sure if he should believe what he was seeing, what he'd been told during the dream, when he first woke up. What he did know was that he was someplace very different than the Hilltop and something was telling him to go a certain way.
That way led to an old, majestic building that seemed long since emptied despite being in excellent condition. Not wholly unfamiliar to him outside of it looking like it had fallen out of a movie set for some epic fantasy. Inside he found something a little more familiar: a mismatched group of survivors who didn't look at all like they belonged together and most who didn't know what the shit they were doing.
He stood at the entrance to the main hall the majority were gathered in and just stared at them for a while, eyes narrowed and clearly judging them in some manner. He, himself, looked much the titular redneck if anyone was familiar with that term: dirty, hair just a bit too greasy, dressed in clothes that probably hadn't been changed in days and covered as much with motor oil as they were the dregs of whatever swamp or forest he'd been stomping through, leather vest probably the cleanest thing about him and that wasn't saying much. On his shoulder was a crossbow of the sort found in modern-day America (or maybe way advanced, or way behind the times depending on era a body was from). It looked like it had seen more than it's share of action, but it was well-maintained despite this.
2. Scavenging the Temple
It didn't take long to figure out that most of the group didn't know shit about surviving off the land or in a world gone to so much shit that everything was abandoned and anything worth finding was probably going to be hidden. Daryl set out within a half hour of arrival at the temple and started going through every room and everything he could find in those rooms.
Clothing was pretty much shit, but cloth was cloth and could be used to make bandages or bindings for other items. Could have strips of it woven together for makeshift bags, too. Which, considering the lack of backpacks available to the group at large, was probably the better use. He grabbed a few armfuls and set it off to the side in one of the former bedrooms. Joining it a little later came what pots, pans, utensils, and especially: knives, he could find that were worth anything. There was little else to the place worth taking.
Once he had a stash, he sat down on the floor and started tearing the cloth apart to make those loosely woven bags, head lifting when someone wandered by.
A growled "This is my room, my stuff. Touch it and lose yer fingers." when someone got a little bold and attempted to come inside and look at what he'd gathered.
3. Dressing down the kill
Unfortunately for Daryl, the sorts of pots and junk he'd found in the temple weren't the sort that were good for carrying water. And if the group was gonna be walking around sometime soon, which had definitely been implied by the voices, it was going to need a way to carry water. Which meant finding something to turn into a decent canteen or killing something to get some hide. Wouldn't last long without being properly tanned, but it would be something.
It took about an hour to find tracks of a small deer and another two to follow them to where it was grazing. The actual kill had been easy. Field dressing it to carry back went far better than he was used to what with the lack of dead wandering about and attracted to the blood. Still had to worry about natural predators, but so far those seemed to act like ones he was used to and unless they were starving, stayed away from the innards he left on the ground until he'd hauled the deer onto his shoulders and started back to the temple.
Once he was there, he dropped the corpse on the ground next to the fire and began skinning it. There was still a lot of blood in the beast, but hell, it was fresh meat and soon-to-be fresh leather for the cleaning. Not to mention all the small uses they could put the bones to.
When he noticed someone staring, he lifted his head, then dug his fingers into the chest cavity and pulled out some of the bits that were stuck to the ribcage. Meeting and holding their eyes, he put the raw meat into his mouth and started chewing. If someone was gonna watch, he might as well make it a show.
4. Not a people person
Several days in, and Daryl still hadn't properly introduced himself to the group at large. He spent his time alternating between hunting, smoking his kills so they had some meat preserved for the coming trip, making what storage he could out of the cloth scraps, and basket weaving. Fucking basket weaving. He hated doing it, they didn't come out pretty or water tight, but damn if the reed fibers didn't make for better general carry storage than the cloth did. At least in small amounts. Like belt pouch sized. He couldn't get larger ones to hold together that well. Hadn't ever practiced the art much before and after, well, they could scavenge most of their bags and packs from the dead without much issue.
Daryl made a fairly concentrated effort to appear aloof and disenchanted with everyone in the hopes they'd leave him alone while he kept busy. But if anyone cared to pay even a little attention, they'd notice he kept himself close enough to keep track of the comings and goings. And at night, or in the early mornings, he could be found sitting in the temple entrance, bow across his knee, guarding the make-shift camp.
5. Wildcard
[[Daryl is gonna pretend not to care about anyone but he'll generally step up to help out if someone's having trouble with something and will stop to listen if someone wants to talk. So if you want something a little different than above, just tag and we can figure it out!]]
[[Will match tagging style]]
What: Scavenging and Hunting and Generally getting a feel for the group
Where: Camp 1: Melai Temple
When: second day of camp onward
Warnings/Notes: third prompt has a mildly graphic description of Daryl eating a dead animal with the express purpose of grossing someone out.
1. Arrival
Daryl wasn't sure if he should believe what he was seeing, what he'd been told during the dream, when he first woke up. What he did know was that he was someplace very different than the Hilltop and something was telling him to go a certain way.
That way led to an old, majestic building that seemed long since emptied despite being in excellent condition. Not wholly unfamiliar to him outside of it looking like it had fallen out of a movie set for some epic fantasy. Inside he found something a little more familiar: a mismatched group of survivors who didn't look at all like they belonged together and most who didn't know what the shit they were doing.
He stood at the entrance to the main hall the majority were gathered in and just stared at them for a while, eyes narrowed and clearly judging them in some manner. He, himself, looked much the titular redneck if anyone was familiar with that term: dirty, hair just a bit too greasy, dressed in clothes that probably hadn't been changed in days and covered as much with motor oil as they were the dregs of whatever swamp or forest he'd been stomping through, leather vest probably the cleanest thing about him and that wasn't saying much. On his shoulder was a crossbow of the sort found in modern-day America (or maybe way advanced, or way behind the times depending on era a body was from). It looked like it had seen more than it's share of action, but it was well-maintained despite this.
2. Scavenging the Temple
It didn't take long to figure out that most of the group didn't know shit about surviving off the land or in a world gone to so much shit that everything was abandoned and anything worth finding was probably going to be hidden. Daryl set out within a half hour of arrival at the temple and started going through every room and everything he could find in those rooms.
Clothing was pretty much shit, but cloth was cloth and could be used to make bandages or bindings for other items. Could have strips of it woven together for makeshift bags, too. Which, considering the lack of backpacks available to the group at large, was probably the better use. He grabbed a few armfuls and set it off to the side in one of the former bedrooms. Joining it a little later came what pots, pans, utensils, and especially: knives, he could find that were worth anything. There was little else to the place worth taking.
Once he had a stash, he sat down on the floor and started tearing the cloth apart to make those loosely woven bags, head lifting when someone wandered by.
A growled "This is my room, my stuff. Touch it and lose yer fingers." when someone got a little bold and attempted to come inside and look at what he'd gathered.
3. Dressing down the kill
Unfortunately for Daryl, the sorts of pots and junk he'd found in the temple weren't the sort that were good for carrying water. And if the group was gonna be walking around sometime soon, which had definitely been implied by the voices, it was going to need a way to carry water. Which meant finding something to turn into a decent canteen or killing something to get some hide. Wouldn't last long without being properly tanned, but it would be something.
It took about an hour to find tracks of a small deer and another two to follow them to where it was grazing. The actual kill had been easy. Field dressing it to carry back went far better than he was used to what with the lack of dead wandering about and attracted to the blood. Still had to worry about natural predators, but so far those seemed to act like ones he was used to and unless they were starving, stayed away from the innards he left on the ground until he'd hauled the deer onto his shoulders and started back to the temple.
Once he was there, he dropped the corpse on the ground next to the fire and began skinning it. There was still a lot of blood in the beast, but hell, it was fresh meat and soon-to-be fresh leather for the cleaning. Not to mention all the small uses they could put the bones to.
When he noticed someone staring, he lifted his head, then dug his fingers into the chest cavity and pulled out some of the bits that were stuck to the ribcage. Meeting and holding their eyes, he put the raw meat into his mouth and started chewing. If someone was gonna watch, he might as well make it a show.
4. Not a people person
Several days in, and Daryl still hadn't properly introduced himself to the group at large. He spent his time alternating between hunting, smoking his kills so they had some meat preserved for the coming trip, making what storage he could out of the cloth scraps, and basket weaving. Fucking basket weaving. He hated doing it, they didn't come out pretty or water tight, but damn if the reed fibers didn't make for better general carry storage than the cloth did. At least in small amounts. Like belt pouch sized. He couldn't get larger ones to hold together that well. Hadn't ever practiced the art much before and after, well, they could scavenge most of their bags and packs from the dead without much issue.
Daryl made a fairly concentrated effort to appear aloof and disenchanted with everyone in the hopes they'd leave him alone while he kept busy. But if anyone cared to pay even a little attention, they'd notice he kept himself close enough to keep track of the comings and goings. And at night, or in the early mornings, he could be found sitting in the temple entrance, bow across his knee, guarding the make-shift camp.
5. Wildcard
[[Daryl is gonna pretend not to care about anyone but he'll generally step up to help out if someone's having trouble with something and will stop to listen if someone wants to talk. So if you want something a little different than above, just tag and we can figure it out!]]
[[Will match tagging style]]
no subject
[ He looks a bit discomrted by the admission. ]
You?
no subject
'Bout the same. Days ain't too hard to track if yer outside in the woods 'cept when it's getting on 'til dawn or dusk, but rest of the time...
[Another shrug.]
Keep at it without a proper watch and you'll get used to it enough to tell without it in a few weeks.
I just remembered they actually have a point similarity I can bring in...
[ He pauses and then continues. ]
At least there appear to be no living dead here.
no subject
[Daryl squinted up at him.]
Sounds like an oxymoron.
[But it also sounded like the guy was talking about walkers. Sure, they moved and all, but they weren't alive. But that didn't mean other groups might not come up with the term 'living dead' for them, either. He could see that happening.]
How living and how dead are we talking about?
no subject
no subject
[Daryl said it casually, without judgement. He was at the point of finishing skinning the deer and held the skin up with a question in his eyes. Did the guy know how to go about cleaning it or not?]
We... our group... group I was with 'fore gettin' dragged here... we call 'em walkers. Or biters. Floaters. The dead... just not livin'.
no subject
I see. You must be lucky, or skilled to still survive. [ He nods at the deer. ]
I suspect I know which.
no subject
He did, however, give a derisive snort at the compliment. Whether it was intentionally one or not, Daryl wasn't a fan. Mostly because he knew exactly how unlucky he was in so many ways.]
Nah. Everyone that's alive is alive cause they learned how ta be. Ain't no luck in that. Maybe some skill, but not much. Don't take a lot to kill something.
no subject
[ He smiles a trifle sadly. ]
You are right about killing, I confess. And I've done my fair share of it. [ And he'll have to do a lot more, before he's through, even here most likely. The thought sobers him. ]