Michonne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thesamurai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2018-04-17 11:28 am
thesamurai) wrote in entrancelogs2018-04-17 11:28 am
° Open re-arrival
Who: Michonne, possibly you
Where: Roof, Grounds
When: April 17th
Rating: R for mentions of violence and most importantly, death of a child.
Summary: Michonne's back. Again. Tell a friend.
The Story:
[ She's back. And for the first time in all of the coming and going she's done in the three years she's been in Wonderland, this is the first time she's not pissed at leaving in the middle of something. As she stands on the rooftop, holding a letter in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other it's the blink of an eye and slow realization when her setting has changed. Alexandria becomes Wonderland, the smell of the dead is almost startlingly gone, and the memory of everything she's built in this place comes back.
I don't want you to be sad after this.
Closing her eyes, she drops her chin to her chest and lets out a breath as her eyes move over Carl's letter to Negan. It wasn't going to work. It was never going to work, hoping that his words might inspire some kind of truce. But she had to try, for him. She had to try and make it right. Staring out at Wonderland, she lets herself have a single fleeting thought, that Carl could come here. That he could come here and have a life and be a kid for a little while. But every time he does show up, he leaves in a matter of days or weeks. Still, she'd do a lot to see him again, to say the things she didn't because she couldn't believe she was losing another child. She'd vowed never to get close again, and yet somehow there'd been Carl and Judith and Rick, and here she is: carrying Carl's letters in her back pocket, grieving when he told her not to.
You're gonna have to be strong for dad. For Judith.
The rooftops of Wonderland have always seemed busy, so when she hears the door open behind her, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Folding the letter carefully, she tucks it into her back pocket with her own letter and then stands and waits for whoever's arrived to either join her or go do their own thing. Her walkie-talkie is still in her hand, the static lightly hissing.
For yourself.
Later, on the grounds, she sits by the garden she made last summer, the beautiful dahlias a reminder of everyone she's lost both here, gone to their own worlds, and at home. With the letter Carl wrote for her out now, in her hands, she reads it over and over again, face tense and tears right there at the rim of her eyes but not falling. When the letter drops, she looks at the flowers, speaking, not to anyone, just to Carl. ]
We're going. We're going now to make it better. I'm here right now, but there? We're ending it with Negan. And I promise - I promise you - Judith has me. She'll always have me. World's gonna look good. I'll fight for it, for you. For her. We can be how we were. We will be.
[ She doesn't realize it, if anyone overhears, and she goes back to the letter in her hands. ]
Where: Roof, Grounds
When: April 17th
Rating: R for mentions of violence and most importantly, death of a child.
Summary: Michonne's back. Again. Tell a friend.
The Story:
[ She's back. And for the first time in all of the coming and going she's done in the three years she's been in Wonderland, this is the first time she's not pissed at leaving in the middle of something. As she stands on the rooftop, holding a letter in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other it's the blink of an eye and slow realization when her setting has changed. Alexandria becomes Wonderland, the smell of the dead is almost startlingly gone, and the memory of everything she's built in this place comes back.
I don't want you to be sad after this.
Closing her eyes, she drops her chin to her chest and lets out a breath as her eyes move over Carl's letter to Negan. It wasn't going to work. It was never going to work, hoping that his words might inspire some kind of truce. But she had to try, for him. She had to try and make it right. Staring out at Wonderland, she lets herself have a single fleeting thought, that Carl could come here. That he could come here and have a life and be a kid for a little while. But every time he does show up, he leaves in a matter of days or weeks. Still, she'd do a lot to see him again, to say the things she didn't because she couldn't believe she was losing another child. She'd vowed never to get close again, and yet somehow there'd been Carl and Judith and Rick, and here she is: carrying Carl's letters in her back pocket, grieving when he told her not to.
You're gonna have to be strong for dad. For Judith.
The rooftops of Wonderland have always seemed busy, so when she hears the door open behind her, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Folding the letter carefully, she tucks it into her back pocket with her own letter and then stands and waits for whoever's arrived to either join her or go do their own thing. Her walkie-talkie is still in her hand, the static lightly hissing.
For yourself.
Later, on the grounds, she sits by the garden she made last summer, the beautiful dahlias a reminder of everyone she's lost both here, gone to their own worlds, and at home. With the letter Carl wrote for her out now, in her hands, she reads it over and over again, face tense and tears right there at the rim of her eyes but not falling. When the letter drops, she looks at the flowers, speaking, not to anyone, just to Carl. ]
We're going. We're going now to make it better. I'm here right now, but there? We're ending it with Negan. And I promise - I promise you - Judith has me. She'll always have me. World's gonna look good. I'll fight for it, for you. For her. We can be how we were. We will be.
[ She doesn't realize it, if anyone overhears, and she goes back to the letter in her hands. ]
no subject
[Death, at least, doesn't come so easily to him. He's lived for a long fucking time, he should be safe- assuming Wonderland hasn't screwed with his Fable-born quasi-immortality, of course.
Or if someone cuts his head off. That'll always do it. ]
Ain't much one for running and hiding. Figure I'll do what I can.
no subject
[ She studies him, wondering if he's the stop and help type or just fight because it's what he does. ]
Not enough people step up, get messy when we need it.
no subject
Yeah, well. I'm used to shit getting messy. Better than lying back and waiting to fuckin' die. 'Sides there's people here who won't survive that kinda shit.
no subject
[ Even when she was alone, after Andre died, she couldn't let a stranger in the woods get eaten just because Michonne was sad. She'll always fight, here, at home. Until she can't anymore. ]
Good to know someone else has it in them. Seems like we're losin' people for good who've been here a while. Librarian was here six years, woke up one day and she was just...gone. All her things too, like she was never here.
no subject
no subject
[ Information in this place is shaky at best, but as far as she knows, that's what happened. ]
She had a collection of data, how things worked here, patterns she'd noticed. List of potential assholes from people's homes, how many times people died. Just in case it was ever important.
no subject
[Probably not to home. They wouldn't make it that easy. ]
Huh. Clever. Making it so the rest of us could be a little less fuckin' dead when more shit hits the fan.
no subject
no subject