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]
[ This draws a laugh from him, little more than a huff of air. He can see the amusement that's trying to fight out of Daryl and he takes it as a personal triumph because of course he does.
Then he shrugs, smile twisting his mouth. ]
Nah. Just when I'm working through logistics.
[ It's true enough: for the most part, he's pretty quiet. A little quiet, a little weird, a little bit of a loner. ]
Coulda fooled me, yammerin' on as you always are. 'less you mean to tell me you're always working through logistics.
[And this time when his lips twisted upward, he didn't fight it so hard. He actually didn't mind the talking. It filled the silence. Let him focus on something.]
Maybe I am. Maybe I just talk a lot when I'm around you.
[ It's teasing, easy, and above all: comfortable. Maybe he's too comfortable too easy, but it's too late for that. It's not going to change any time soon, so let him fill the silences at will. ]
[The words came before he could stop them, but once they were out, he stiffened and froze up. Very aware of how that sounded. His thumbs stilled their motion and he held his breath for a long moment. Then sat up straight again and coughed softly, looking away from Jesus.]
[ It's quiet but careful and he doesn't push it, just sits still and watches Daryl go through these steps. He's not expectant or judging or anything, just patient.
His lips curve upward a little, at any rate, and he wiggles his legs just a little where they rest. He's clearly not put out or embarrassed. ]
[The wiggling drew his attention down to the legs still heavy in his lap. Still just... there.
He felt like his whole face was on fire. Like he screwed up some. But Jesus didn't laugh at him and there was nothing in his tone making it sound like he took it wrong. Like he was getting ready to make fun of him over it the way Merle would have. The way Daryl expected anyone who wasn't family to do. Just because he was used to that kind of shit. It was hard to shake.
Daryl let out the breath he'd been holding and let his eyes stay fixed on his hands, which were now hanging out over his knees. His forearms still resting on Jesus' legs. Gulped another breath and tried to relax. Get that sense of ease back.
Attempted a joke that came out stilted to his ears.]
[ Jesus is full of light teasing but there's never any real fire behind it; there's never anything cruel behind his smile and never anything awful behind his laughs.
In any case he would have taken it into stride entirely if Daryl hadn't reacted like he had - and now it's fine anyway, quiet and comfortable as he shrugs. It's not so stilted as Daryl thinks, probably. ]
I don't use just anyone as a footrest, you know.
[ It's not even really flirty, he's just reiterating that he feels comfortable around Daryl. Then: ]
I figure a guy that didn't actually murder me on sight for stealing a supply truck wouldn't murder me for resting my legs on him, you know?
[Jesus succeeded in getting an amused snort out of him before he could control it and that in turn led to a shy smile that was hidden by a further dip of his head. Far enough that his hair fell around his face becoming a curtain.]
[ This time he does laugh, but it's absolutely good-natured. ]
Rick told me about that. I'd call you an asshole but really I would have probably deserved it, so...
[ Rick's a trustworthy guy with all the important things. This though? This is yakety sax hilarity that involved Daryl trying to leave a grownass man up a tree. So. ]
Did I say that? [ With a hint of a grin, legs getting shaken around or no. ]
Now, see. You definitely could, but we've already come to the conclusion that tying me up doesn't actually work for more than approximately thirty seconds, so...
It is cause I know where to get it. You don't. You'd have to offer up something else.
[Daryl's hands began to rub Jesus's legs, this time a little more consciously. A light massage to help loosen the tight muscles he felt there. No one was around to see and Jesus didn't seem to mind the handling. Gave his hands something to do.]
You saying if I chain you up and put you in a fish tank, you can get get 'fore you drown? 'Cause that'd be a hell of a magic show. Afterwards you can make balloon animals for the kids and make pigeons disappear.
I could figure out something. Lord knows I'm good at finding things.
[ He really doesn't mind it at all - relaxes even, under the attention. Having Daryl idly do whatever is one thing, but being purposely tactile is... nice. He's not going to open up enough to say that obviously, but. Well. The thought is there. ]
I probably could, but honestly I'm not really in the mood to try it out and see. Last thing I need is to be floating around snapping my teeth.
[ WHY IS EVERYTHING SO MORBID? ]
Besides, you like me enough to not want me to drown. [ Confident. ]
[Even joking he couldn't bring himself to say he wanted to see someone dead that he didn't actually want to see dead. He hadn't really put much thought into taking the Houdini joke that far despite his mention of drowning because he'd had it in his head it was a foregone conclusion Jesus could get out of any kind of situation like that.
Still, it was hard to sound firm on that kind of agreement. Like if he was, he'd be admitting or agreeing to more than he was ready to.]
Guess so.
[It came out soft and after Daryl fell silent. His hands continued their work on Jesus's shins, moving down from the knee to his ankles. Pausing at his boots before sliding down and resting on them. He wasn't sure if he should tell the guy to take 'em off or just leave the massage at that. But a moment later he pulled his hand back and let them both rest once more on Jesus' legs. Asking that would be too much. Too familiar. He was just giving his hands something to do, not really trying to help the guy relax.
[ As morbid as his quiet sense of humor could be, he'd meant it about Daryl liking him enough to not really want him dead. If he had, Jesus would have been dead that first day. He still counts himself lucky every day that he'd made the right judgment about the personalities of Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon when he'd been watching them from afar.
Then again, he's always been a good judge of character. ]
If it helps, I like you plenty well enough too.
[ As though that isn't obvious enough. He watches Daryl's hands move though, following their trek, and when he stops Jesus just smiles a little to himself, resting his arm on the back of the couch. When he speaks it's easy: there's no underlying meaning behind it, it's not strange or flirty, it just is what it is. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
→ 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. ]
no subject
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'.
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
[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.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
Then he shrugs, smile twisting his mouth. ]
Nah. Just when I'm working through logistics.
[ It's true enough: for the most part, he's pretty quiet. A little quiet, a little weird, a little bit of a loner. ]
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[And this time when his lips twisted upward, he didn't fight it so hard. He actually didn't mind the talking. It filled the silence. Let him focus on something.]
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[ It's teasing, easy, and above all: comfortable. Maybe he's too comfortable too easy, but it's too late for that. It's not going to change any time soon, so let him fill the silences at will. ]
no subject
[The words came before he could stop them, but once they were out, he stiffened and froze up. Very aware of how that sounded. His thumbs stilled their motion and he held his breath for a long moment. Then sat up straight again and coughed softly, looking away from Jesus.]
no subject
[ It's quiet but careful and he doesn't push it, just sits still and watches Daryl go through these steps. He's not expectant or judging or anything, just patient.
His lips curve upward a little, at any rate, and he wiggles his legs just a little where they rest. He's clearly not put out or embarrassed. ]
I talk more with people I'm comfortable around.
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He felt like his whole face was on fire. Like he screwed up some. But Jesus didn't laugh at him and there was nothing in his tone making it sound like he took it wrong. Like he was getting ready to make fun of him over it the way Merle would have. The way Daryl expected anyone who wasn't family to do. Just because he was used to that kind of shit. It was hard to shake.
Daryl let out the breath he'd been holding and let his eyes stay fixed on his hands, which were now hanging out over his knees. His forearms still resting on Jesus' legs. Gulped another breath and tried to relax. Get that sense of ease back.
Attempted a joke that came out stilted to his ears.]
That why you're using me as a footrest?
no subject
In any case he would have taken it into stride entirely if Daryl hadn't reacted like he had - and now it's fine anyway, quiet and comfortable as he shrugs. It's not so stilted as Daryl thinks, probably. ]
I don't use just anyone as a footrest, you know.
[ It's not even really flirty, he's just reiterating that he feels comfortable around Daryl. Then: ]
I figure a guy that didn't actually murder me on sight for stealing a supply truck wouldn't murder me for resting my legs on him, you know?
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Could still string you up a tree. Never know.
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Rick told me about that. I'd call you an asshole but really I would have probably deserved it, so...
[ Rick's a trustworthy guy with all the important things. This though? This is yakety sax hilarity that involved Daryl trying to leave a grownass man up a tree. So. ]
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[He put his hands firmly on Jesus' shins and gave them a little shake.]
I could string you up one right now. By these skinny little ankles of yours. Dangle you like a fish on a hook.
no subject
Now, see. You definitely could, but we've already come to the conclusion that tying me up doesn't actually work for more than approximately thirty seconds, so...
no subject
[Not that hog-tying would make stringing him up a tree in any way easier.]
Bet you a snickers bar from Gregory's stash.
[Because unlike the rest of Hilltop, Daryl knew where it was and the poptarts hadn't been the only thing in it.]
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[ A pause. ]
We should really liberate the whole stash. For the people.
[ "For the people." His mouth quirks a little though and he shrugs. ]
Escalating scale. I'm telling you though, I'm the apocalypse Houdini.
no subject
[Daryl's hands began to rub Jesus's legs, this time a little more consciously. A light massage to help loosen the tight muscles he felt there. No one was around to see and Jesus didn't seem to mind the handling. Gave his hands something to do.]
You saying if I chain you up and put you in a fish tank, you can get get 'fore you drown? 'Cause that'd be a hell of a magic show. Afterwards you can make balloon animals for the kids and make pigeons disappear.
no subject
[ He really doesn't mind it at all - relaxes even, under the attention. Having Daryl idly do whatever is one thing, but being purposely tactile is... nice. He's not going to open up enough to say that obviously, but. Well. The thought is there. ]
I probably could, but honestly I'm not really in the mood to try it out and see. Last thing I need is to be floating around snapping my teeth.
[ WHY IS EVERYTHING SO MORBID? ]
Besides, you like me enough to not want me to drown. [ Confident. ]
no subject
Still, it was hard to sound firm on that kind of agreement. Like if he was, he'd be admitting or agreeing to more than he was ready to.]
Guess so.
[It came out soft and after Daryl fell silent. His hands continued their work on Jesus's shins, moving down from the knee to his ankles. Pausing at his boots before sliding down and resting on them. He wasn't sure if he should tell the guy to take 'em off or just leave the massage at that. But a moment later he pulled his hand back and let them both rest once more on Jesus' legs. Asking that would be too much. Too familiar. He was just giving his hands something to do, not really trying to help the guy relax.
He was already relaxed enough as it was.]
no subject
Then again, he's always been a good judge of character. ]
If it helps, I like you plenty well enough too.
[ As though that isn't obvious enough. He watches Daryl's hands move though, following their trek, and when he stops Jesus just smiles a little to himself, resting his arm on the back of the couch. When he speaks it's easy: there's no underlying meaning behind it, it's not strange or flirty, it just is what it is. ]
Thanks.
End Scene?
Welcome.