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@wingsandarrow liked for a starter with Shane

Shane dropped down off the hood of the last car he searched, his boots hitting the hot pavement hard enough to jolt up his legs. The sun was beating down without mercy, baking metal and asphalt until the whole damn highway smelled like engine grease and rot. A few cars over, he spotted Daryl moving along the shoulder, checking vehicles with that steady, methodical pace of his.

Letting out a breath, he adjusted the strap of his shotgun and started after him. The only sounds were the hum of insects, the distant creak of cooling engines, and the occasional low moan drifting from somewhere too close for comfort. Daryl kept going, shoulders set, crossbow resting easy against his back.

Shane didn’t rush, but he closed the distance enough to talk without raising his voice. “Hey,” he said, boots crunching over scattered glass as he came up beside him. “How you holdin’ up?”

wingsandarrow

After the initial outrage over losing his brother wore off, Daryl did his best to keep his head down and make himself useful. He'd debated setting out on his own almost every day since then--and half-expected the group to run him off without Merle around--but that small, irrational hope that his brother might return kept him there.

Then, one by one, he'd started to actually care for them. The kids were easy; he'd always gotten on fine with them. Then it was Carol, who for some reason had decided they were friends. Then Rick and Shane, who he'd come to admire for their leadership, the way they held everyone together. He doubted those feelings were mutual, but still, he wouldn't leave them now.

He knew Shane was pacing him, but he wasn't going to make it easier for him to start a conversation. He just kept doing what he was doing, methodically checking cars for walkers and then bagging any supplies he managed to find. He raised his head, cautious as ever, though Shane had never been anything but civil to him. "'M fine. You?"

#chat: shane #alwaysxinxtrouble #twd!verse

thecuratxr

@wingsandarrow asked: ❝ and here i thought we had something. ❞ (Wesker/Daryl)

Gloved hand raises, pushing up near blackout sunglasses. Lips curl into a devious smile as heavy footfall turns dead silent. A blur of movement, and Wesker is on his chosen survivor in a heartbeat with an unnaturally strong grip as Daryl is slammed back against the trunk of a tree. His hand is around the other male’s neck, yes, but his position is meticulously cautious. There was no killing this one. Not just yet.

“And what make you think you’re so special?” laughter falls from tight lips; a short little chuckle as Wesker’s head tips down slightly. Enough so that his yellow eyes can peer at Daryl over the rim of his sunglasses. There’s sounds of a generator being worked on some yards away, but it’s irrelevant for the moment. His uroboros itched to crawl forth and taint the human; corrupt him with the virus that was Wesker’s pride and joy – but it wasn’t allowed this time.

wingsandarrow

Lacking a crossbow or any real way of fighting back for that matter, dry and sassy comments in the face of impending torture and death were the only real weapons left to him. Daryl also might be guilty of purposely making himself a target to spare his teammates for as long as possible. It was the only way he could protect them, knowing always that it wouldn't be enough, but it was all he had.

The swiftness of Wesker's attack always knocked the breath out of him, and the hand at his throat wasn't helping. He gripped his arm, not trying to escape--he knew that wasn't possible--but taking a little of the pressure off his windpipe. "Still alive, ain't I? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were gettin' soft," he rasped. He didn't care if Wesker wanted to play cat and mouse with him as long as it kept his attention off the other survivors. And it wasn't entirely untrue. Maybe he was imagining it, but Wesker did seem a little… different with him. He was already stuck in hell; he had nothing to lose by leaning on that morbid interest.

#chat: wesker #thecuratxr #verse: dead by daylight

wingsandarrow

🏹 @mxrvelouscreations liked for a starter

He should have known it was a trap. Nobody left a truck full of non-perishable food out in the open like that. He should have stuck to raiding houses, or just stayed in the goddamn woods hunting game. Daryl could survive like that indefinitely, had even before the outbreak, but living around so many people before the prison fell had changed something. It wasn't hunger making him feel hollow or driving him out of safety. He just missed having another human around.

Walkers had poured out of the back of the truck, and Daryl crouched on the top of it, safe for the moment. His crossbow was slung over his shoulder, but there were far too many to shoot. He would run out of arrows before he even made a dent in them. "Shit," he swore quietly but with feeling, his eyes flicking to the woman trapped with him. "Got any ideas?"

mxrvelouscreations

@wingsandarrow

Leigh silently cursed as she heard the telling noises of the walkers, keeping herself low on the top of the truck beside Daryl. While she knew that they should have realised that it was a trap, it would have seemed that the hunger had won out over being smart. She didn't blame Daryl though, since she knew that they had both had a say in what had happened.

"Not exactly..." she muttered, glancing up at him and letting out a slow sigh. "We need to find something that could distract them...." She paused for a moment before adding, "the car up ahead, think there's any chance of it still having gas? Or still having battery power? We could try and set off the alarm and then run in the opposite direction?"

wingsandarrow

He tilted his head, studying the car she'd pointed out. Gas was a gamble, and so was the prospect of them making it that far before they were overrun, but the alarm was something he hadn't considered. It was an idea, at least, and since he didn't currently have any of those, they didn't have a lot to lose by trying.

"Let's see." He aimed the crossbow at one of the car's windows, exhaled, and fired. The alarm shrieked to life, loud enough to wake the dead if they hadn't been already. A few of the walkers still loitered around the truck, but many of them turned toward the car. He was quick to shoulder the bow and slide down the windshield, pausing to help Leigh down. "Time to make a run for it."