[ jesus almost startles when daryl reaches across him but doesn't, containing it to see what he's doing. he doesn't expect anything, really - and grabbing the beers makes the most sense. he takes the offered bottle with a grateful hum, twisting off the cap.
don't break the silence, he thinks, so he just takes a drink as he settles in comfortably. and look at him, sipping as slowly as possible so as to prolong this as much as he can. surely the universe (and daryl) can grant him that. ]
[Daryl either didn't notice or mention that surprise, just popping the cap of his own bottle to take a long drink, letting out a sound of satisfaction, low in his throat at something that tasted a million times better than the vodka did. Settling back again, and with the small bits of contact, Jesus could probably feel him easing slightly, relaxing.
The universe was up in the air, but Daryl had no issues with sitting right where they were for as long as they could manage, a small bit of peace and quiet that really, he didn't doubt they both needed.]
[ either option is fine. he's happy to just sit and drink his beer and be pleased with what they have. now that they're comfortable again he drops his hand to lay against daryl's leg, pinky finger just resting near his knee. it's small but it's important to him.
he's still not demanding in the least but eventually he slumps into the cushions a bit, head tipping just enough that barely, just barely, his temple rests against daryl's shoulder. it's oddly intimate and oddly vulnerable; daryl could easily just tell him to fuck off. ]
[He didn't seem to mind the contact, there was no twitch or tensing to him at the shifts Jesus made. Just staying put, enjoying his beer.
He might not give any response, but it was definitely telling how Daryl didn't say anything about Jesus's head against his shoulder. Only casting a brief glance towards the other man, showing that he did notice, but well...
[ jesus breathes in slow and breathes out slower, any remaining tension in his shoulders releasing utterly as he let himself be utterly relaxed there against him. it means his weight rests a little more on daryl's shoulder that way but since he doesn't seem to mind it jesus is pretty sure this will be all right too.
he closes his eyes. it's another show of vulnerability: being comfortable enough around someone to close your eyes with them. ]
[It was surprising in a way. He'd gotten used to people feeling relaxed around him, the few friends he had, but this was entirely new.
But he couldn't bring himself to say a word against it, easing slightly himself after a long moment's thought. It was nice, he had to admit, having someone who trusted him that much.
And it was even nicer that it was Jesus in particular.]
Way of the world now, right? Living through experience.
[ Jesus noticed the tic, the habit, but didn't comment on it. He didn't mind it anyway. The pressure on his legs was welcome and he was relaxed as anything, picking idly at his pop tart with the same thoughts in mind. He hadn't even really liked them before the apocalypse. Now though, it was a reminder. They could all do with reminders.
He sighed, dropping his head sideways onto the back of the couch. ]
You're not wrong. I could round up people within the week, make a schedule. [ Which meant staying present more. Which meant he'd get restless. But it was still necessary. ] Better than no one knowing how to do anything. [ They were all going to die sooner or later. There was no guarantee Jesus wouldn't die next month, next week, tomorrow. ] I'm not much of a teacher but I'm likable. [ Wry. ]
I'm decent enough at teachin'. You can be likable enough for the both of us.
[Between him and Hershal, Rick had learned how to set rabbit traps. And his folks had learned to use guns and knives, with no small part of that being on him during that first winter. Before they found the prison. Before Lori and T passed.
He went still again, eyes unfocused and gaze directed somewhere between the table and the floor as old memories rose up. T getting good with the crowbars and pokers he preferred to keep the walkers at a distance. Rick getting more practical use with the knives and machetes now ever present at his belt. Glenn learning how to really use that machete of his and Maggie, too.
Glenn...
Daryl lifted an arm to wipe at his face, blinking hard and fast with a sudden intake of breath before he nodded again.]
You got enough knives and spears around, at least the close in fightin' shouldn't be a problem to teach. Can't do much about ranged unless any of them show a talent for throwin'.
I think teamwork is the best for everyone then, in this case. Though most people here like you well enough to begin with.
[ You know, other than Gregory.
Jesus knows what that kind of pause means. It's the same kind so many of them get. It's quiet and still and he respects it, though he does reach out once like he's going to touch Daryl's shoulder. He stops short and drops his hand again while the older man isn't looking. So he's quiet and still just like the moment is, waiting.
When Daryl speaks again, he nods. ]
Worth a shot. The throwing, I mean. Better to start with the close-up though, since if we lose things we're just ruining our own supplies in the meantime. Could set up some kind of practice in the walls to see how people's aims are before sending them out and potentially losing weapons.
[ Now that he's thinking about it, he's in planning mode. ]
Plenty of paint around. Easy enough to mark targets.
[Daryl looked down at what was left of his poptart, suddenly feeling full but not wanting to waste the treat, neither. He pulled the foil away and crumpled it up. Tossed it toward the table and didn't bother to check if it landed there or came undone enough to land short of it. Shoved the rest of the poptart in his mouth and let his hands settled on the legs in his lap as he leaned back and chewed.
His mind already moving to the logistics the way Jesus' had, he didn't pay any attention to what his hands were doing when they started to first drum on the man's shins and then press flat against them and start to rub the same way he would have done to his own thigh.
When he managed to swallow, he left his head back and nodded a little.]
Set the targets up on the walls near the forge so it's an easy return on the practice knives. See if we can get a rope tied up somewhere we can swing a log around for when they move on to moving targets.
Artistic talents even, for some people. If they've got free time they can make real looking ones.
[ Said with a playful grin: it's not necessary at all (literally) and won't happen, but of course he'd joke about it. A gentle joke, sure. He finishes his pop tart a little more slowly, picking at it with his head leaned to the side against the back of the couch. His eyes are lidded and the way Daryl fusses at his shins doesn't bother him: on the contrary he understands that it's a kind of tic and it's just that his legs are in the way of it.
(Doesn't make it any less nice, that kind of closeness and being tactile, but still he understands why it's happening: he doesn't belabor under any false interpretations.) ]
Makes sense. Having some kind of training dummy in general will keep more skittish people from freezing while they get technique down. Might still freeze in the moment, but they'll still be better off for having a conditioned physical response.
[His hands stilled on the man's legs and he let them rest there for a moment before his thumbs started to drum softly on them. He could keep them still when he needed to, when he was hunting or getting ready for a fight. But when he relaxed he always had trouble with that.
Daryl rolled his head just far enough to peer at Jesus out the side of his eye, the small twist of his lips that dragged the corners upward being fought. The amusement couldn't be kept from his voice, however]
Pharmacy's definitely most important first off anyway. Harlan's got a list a mile long. Maybe we'll find a couple feet of it.
[ He's already shrugged the backpack on, used to carrying things on his own anyway. His own knives were stashed away neatly, easy to get to if he needed them. Trailing after Daryl was simple like breathing because the terrain was more familiar to him than anywhere else any more. So by the time they got to the bike he could just skid to a stop like he did it every day. Just like that. ]
I'd say Pharmacy, pawn shop, shoe store, donut shop, liquor store. If we manage to hit all of them.
[Daryl didn't expect to hit all of them, not really, but they could do a look-see first. He got the bike out of hiding and standing upright. Did a quick check of the engine for anything loose before throwing a leg over. Then pushed himself as far forward as he could get. The seat was big enough for two, but only barely. Even as close as he was to straddling the gas tank, there would still be a squeeze with practically no space between him and Jesus if the man wanted to keep the whole of his ass on the seat and not have half of it hanging off.]
We can look at all of 'em to make sure it's clear of walkers. Get an idea of what's easy to grab and what we might have to dig for. Ten minutes should do it if the dead ain't around. Then hit the priority.
[ Jesus knew it wasn't likely. There was still a casual optimism in it though, even just a verbal thing when it was far more likely they hit one or two before they had to loop back. And as for now, well: once Daryl was settled Jesus slung a leg over the bike to straddle it, essentially resting against him so that his ass doesn't just slide off the damn thing. Comfortable but not comfortable, so on and so forth. Once he's settled, he nodded. ]
Sounds good. Keep things simpler too. [ Less likely to get hit by any hiding dead, anyway. Then, another nod. ] Let's go.
[The bad thing about riding a loud ass motorcycle anywhere anymore was that it attracted the dead with the noise. The good thing about riding a loud ass motorcycle anywhere anymore was that it attracted the dead with the noise and once they got to their destination, Daryl could sit on it and rev the engine a couple times to try and draw out any hidden nasties.
He meandered through the parking lot with the bike, back and forth a couple times before pulling in front of the Pharmacy and shutting it down. Waited for Jesus to climb off and then another minute as he pulled out a cigarette and got it lit. Took a long drag.]
Think that should get 'em riled up, if any of 'em are still around. Let's see about that walk through.
[ Best case is there are only a few around. Worse is an overwhelming number and they have to abandon the idea entirely. (Once it hits double digits, I start running.) Jesus knows better than to hope for none around. Anyway, the sound of the engine will either flush out any stragglers or let them know in advance if they need to bail. Nothing's shambled out yet though and that's a good sign as he swings off the bike, waiting for Daryl to follow suit.
He's ready to act immediately if he has to but nods to what Daryl says, heading toward the pharmacy first off. Priority even for the walk through. ]
Those'll kill you, you know.
[ Mildly, with a hint of a smile that almost looks genuine though it's the most absurd thing to say and his eyebrows are slightly lofted.
[But unlike Carol who could suck down a pack a day when she was feeling it, Daryl rarely had more than a puff or two. He saved his cigarettes pretty meticulously because it wasn't guaranteed that they'd find more any time soon. After a second inhale, he swung his leg off his bike, took out the key, and bent over to carefully put the cigarette out on the ground. Just enough to get rid of the burning parts at the tip so he could save the rest of the stick.
Straightening up, he pulled his longest knife and followed Jesus to the first door. He reached out to take the handle and stood off to the side so he could yank it open and let the other man rush in to surprise any biters that might be shuffling about. That way Jesus wasn't stuck holding the door and trying to fight at the same time.]
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→ aversiontosleeves
[ jesus almost startles when daryl reaches across him but doesn't, containing it to see what he's doing. he doesn't expect anything, really - and grabbing the beers makes the most sense. he takes the offered bottle with a grateful hum, twisting off the cap.
don't break the silence, he thinks, so he just takes a drink as he settles in comfortably. and look at him, sipping as slowly as possible so as to prolong this as much as he can. surely the universe (and daryl) can grant him that. ]
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The universe was up in the air, but Daryl had no issues with sitting right where they were for as long as they could manage, a small bit of peace and quiet that really, he didn't doubt they both needed.]
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he's still not demanding in the least but eventually he slumps into the cushions a bit, head tipping just enough that barely, just barely, his temple rests against daryl's shoulder. it's oddly intimate and oddly vulnerable; daryl could easily just tell him to fuck off. ]
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He might not give any response, but it was definitely telling how Daryl didn't say anything about Jesus's head against his shoulder. Only casting a brief glance towards the other man, showing that he did notice, but well...
It was okay. This casual sort of contact.]
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he closes his eyes. it's another show of vulnerability: being comfortable enough around someone to close your eyes with them. ]
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But he couldn't bring himself to say a word against it, easing slightly himself after a long moment's thought. It was nice, he had to admit, having someone who trusted him that much.
And it was even nicer that it was Jesus in particular.]
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→ pigsfeet
of course it's trapped i'm not stupid
[ 15min later: ]
got it
[ does he mean the jerky or the trap just to prove he can?
thank u i fucking hate captcha
i do my best to serve the cause of avoiding captcha hell
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→ dirtyredneck
Way of the world now, right? Living through experience.
[ Jesus noticed the tic, the habit, but didn't comment on it. He didn't mind it anyway. The pressure on his legs was welcome and he was relaxed as anything, picking idly at his pop tart with the same thoughts in mind. He hadn't even really liked them before the apocalypse. Now though, it was a reminder. They could all do with reminders.
He sighed, dropping his head sideways onto the back of the couch. ]
You're not wrong. I could round up people within the week, make a schedule. [ Which meant staying present more. Which meant he'd get restless. But it was still necessary. ] Better than no one knowing how to do anything. [ They were all going to die sooner or later. There was no guarantee Jesus wouldn't die next month, next week, tomorrow. ] I'm not much of a teacher but I'm likable. [ Wry. ]
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I'm decent enough at teachin'. You can be likable enough for the both of us.
[Between him and Hershal, Rick had learned how to set rabbit traps. And his folks had learned to use guns and knives, with no small part of that being on him during that first winter. Before they found the prison. Before Lori and T passed.
He went still again, eyes unfocused and gaze directed somewhere between the table and the floor as old memories rose up. T getting good with the crowbars and pokers he preferred to keep the walkers at a distance. Rick getting more practical use with the knives and machetes now ever present at his belt. Glenn learning how to really use that machete of his and Maggie, too.
Glenn...
Daryl lifted an arm to wipe at his face, blinking hard and fast with a sudden intake of breath before he nodded again.]
You got enough knives and spears around, at least the close in fightin' shouldn't be a problem to teach. Can't do much about ranged unless any of them show a talent for throwin'.
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[ You know, other than Gregory.
Jesus knows what that kind of pause means. It's the same kind so many of them get. It's quiet and still and he respects it, though he does reach out once like he's going to touch Daryl's shoulder. He stops short and drops his hand again while the older man isn't looking. So he's quiet and still just like the moment is, waiting.
When Daryl speaks again, he nods. ]
Worth a shot. The throwing, I mean. Better to start with the close-up though, since if we lose things we're just ruining our own supplies in the meantime. Could set up some kind of practice in the walls to see how people's aims are before sending them out and potentially losing weapons.
[ Now that he's thinking about it, he's in planning mode. ]
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[Daryl looked down at what was left of his poptart, suddenly feeling full but not wanting to waste the treat, neither. He pulled the foil away and crumpled it up. Tossed it toward the table and didn't bother to check if it landed there or came undone enough to land short of it. Shoved the rest of the poptart in his mouth and let his hands settled on the legs in his lap as he leaned back and chewed.
His mind already moving to the logistics the way Jesus' had, he didn't pay any attention to what his hands were doing when they started to first drum on the man's shins and then press flat against them and start to rub the same way he would have done to his own thigh.
When he managed to swallow, he left his head back and nodded a little.]
Set the targets up on the walls near the forge so it's an easy return on the practice knives. See if we can get a rope tied up somewhere we can swing a log around for when they move on to moving targets.
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[ Said with a playful grin: it's not necessary at all (literally) and won't happen, but of course he'd joke about it. A gentle joke, sure. He finishes his pop tart a little more slowly, picking at it with his head leaned to the side against the back of the couch. His eyes are lidded and the way Daryl fusses at his shins doesn't bother him: on the contrary he understands that it's a kind of tic and it's just that his legs are in the way of it.
(Doesn't make it any less nice, that kind of closeness and being tactile, but still he understands why it's happening: he doesn't belabor under any false interpretations.) ]
Makes sense. Having some kind of training dummy in general will keep more skittish people from freezing while they get technique down. Might still freeze in the moment, but they'll still be better off for having a conditioned physical response.
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[His hands stilled on the man's legs and he let them rest there for a moment before his thumbs started to drum softly on them. He could keep them still when he needed to, when he was hunting or getting ready for a fight. But when he relaxed he always had trouble with that.
Daryl rolled his head just far enough to peer at Jesus out the side of his eye, the small twist of his lips that dragged the corners upward being fought. The amusement couldn't be kept from his voice, however]
You always talk so much?
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End Scene?
→ aversiontosleeves
i still don't hear you complaining though.
[ don't sass him?? fucking rude, dixon. ]
→ dirtyredneck
Pharmacy's definitely most important first off anyway. Harlan's got a list a mile long. Maybe we'll find a couple feet of it.
[ He's already shrugged the backpack on, used to carrying things on his own anyway. His own knives were stashed away neatly, easy to get to if he needed them. Trailing after Daryl was simple like breathing because the terrain was more familiar to him than anywhere else any more. So by the time they got to the bike he could just skid to a stop like he did it every day. Just like that. ]
I'd say Pharmacy, pawn shop, shoe store, donut shop, liquor store. If we manage to hit all of them.
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We can look at all of 'em to make sure it's clear of walkers. Get an idea of what's easy to grab and what we might have to dig for. Ten minutes should do it if the dead ain't around. Then hit the priority.
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Sounds good. Keep things simpler too. [ Less likely to get hit by any hiding dead, anyway. Then, another nod. ] Let's go.
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He meandered through the parking lot with the bike, back and forth a couple times before pulling in front of the Pharmacy and shutting it down. Waited for Jesus to climb off and then another minute as he pulled out a cigarette and got it lit. Took a long drag.]
Think that should get 'em riled up, if any of 'em are still around. Let's see about that walk through.
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He's ready to act immediately if he has to but nods to what Daryl says, heading toward the pharmacy first off. Priority even for the walk through. ]
Those'll kill you, you know.
[ Mildly, with a hint of a smile that almost looks genuine though it's the most absurd thing to say and his eyebrows are slightly lofted.
Apocalypse humor. ]
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[But unlike Carol who could suck down a pack a day when she was feeling it, Daryl rarely had more than a puff or two. He saved his cigarettes pretty meticulously because it wasn't guaranteed that they'd find more any time soon. After a second inhale, he swung his leg off his bike, took out the key, and bent over to carefully put the cigarette out on the ground. Just enough to get rid of the burning parts at the tip so he could save the rest of the stick.
Straightening up, he pulled his longest knife and followed Jesus to the first door. He reached out to take the handle and stood off to the side so he could yank it open and let the other man rush in to surprise any biters that might be shuffling about. That way Jesus wasn't stuck holding the door and trying to fight at the same time.]
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shhhI love it, moves the plot along
8')
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