entrancelogs | 012] the blind truth [closed]

Current Mood: distressed

Entry tags:

012] the blind truth [closed]

Who: Daryl & Martha
Where: In and around the diner area
When: Early Monday?
Rating: R for Daryl's mouth and possible mentions of gore? Also probably aliens.
Summary: It's truthin' time.
The Story:

Honestly, Daryl should know better. Her things have vanished from her room, no one he knows has spoken to her since they'd been back from the Mirrorside (or at all during their forced vacation over there, for that matter), and perhaps most telling of all, it's the full moon and she hasn't contacted him about it.; the only explanation he can come up with is that Ruby's left, gone back home or wherever it is people go when they disappear from the Mansion. He isn't stupid, he's worked that much out, at least.

And yet here he is, making his way over to the diner anyway. Just to be sure.

Poking his head in just confirms what he'd been expecting, much to his (surprising) distress; she ain't there. And she's not ever gonna be, not anymore. It's an unpleasant conclusion, and one that has the unfortunate effect of stirring up some emotions that he's sadly all too familiar with: he's no stranger to loss, of course... But he hadn't really expected it here, and so the whole situation also has the effect of making him feel like he's been punched in the gut. Stupid- he's paying the price for letting his guard down, he knows that.

His features are schooled into something that's carefully neutral as he pushes the door open to leave, but there's a stiffness to the way he's carrying himself that's hard to miss; he's never been very good at disguising how he's feeling.

Not that it matters. Really, his only consolation here is that there's no one around to call him out on it...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At least the Queen of Hearts had kept her word when it came to this one thing. The week came to an end, and on Monday morning Martha woke up in her own room. Not that it was really home, but it was as close to it as she had here in Wonderland, and it was a welcome change after the odd experience that had been the mirrorside. Between that strange room on the fifth floor, which gave her this sinking feeling whenever she thought about it, and those caves underneath the mansion and what they held, Martha didn't have much desire to go back there any time soon.

She had finally seen it for herself, though, and she was glad for that. She only wished it had offered her more information... but really, it was just another dead end.

She gets dressed slowly, and it's only while peering at her mobile that Martha realizes it's the full moon. It reminds her that she hasn't seen any sign of Ruby since the chess game, and while that's not necessarily out of the ordinary, she thinks it might be best to check on her. Ruby has the cloak now and seems to have everything under control, but she still might appreciate someone checking on her.

Besides, Martha would like to spend some time in the diner again after being without it for a week. But as she opens the door to step inside, there's another body in the doorway, which causes her to tense and step backward, barely holding back a gasp.

It's Daryl. "Oh, hello. Morning. I... guess we've made it back." It's a pointless thing to say, but it's the first thing to come to mind. She's a bit shocked, seeing how she's never actually seen Daryl around the diner before.

...Busted. Daryl's so preoccupied that he almost jumps at the sudden appearance of another person just as he was making his escape. At the very least he visibly tenses, looking at Martha with a vaguely deer-in-headlights expression as his mind catches up with the rest of the world. After a moment, though, it passes, and he steps out of her way, not quite meeting her eyes until she speaks up.

''Bout time' is what he wants to say, but what actually comes out is "Not all of us."

And then he frowns. Because the absolute last thing on this earth he wants to talk about is that. Anything but that. He's essentially in the process of running away from that. He tries not to let his face give him away, but there's obvious confusion and a bit of irritation there, too.

"Ruby's gone," he elaborates, despite his considerable efforts to just. Stop. Talking.

Martha, meanwhile, has no idea that there's something out of the ordinary. The news itself takes her by surprise, and she feels her heart sink in her chest as she glances around the diner over Daryl's shoulder. It's empty, which shouldn't be such a surprise since it's still early and the others might be in bed, but with the knowledge that Ruby's left for good, it feels much more lonely in here.

"You're sure?" she asks, even though she gets the feeling that Daryl wouldn't have told her unless he'd checked and double-checked. "She's not... hiding out in the woods, maybe?"

While people Martha knows have left this place, most of the time they end up coming back a week later. Maybe that will happen with Ruby as well, though with the way that Daryl spoke those words, it sounds a bit more absolute than she would like. She has to remind her that as upsetting as it might be to her, it's actually a good thing for Ruby to go home.

As for the effects of the event, Martha hasn't even noticed. As far as she's concerned, it's common sense to mention the disappearance of a mutual friend, even for someone like Daryl.

For a normal person with a healthy approach to loss and coping, yeah, it would be completely normal to bring it up, to talk it out, to commiserate with someone who he knows will be as affected by the situation as he will. Daryl, however, doesn't fit in that category at all, and so the fact that he'd let that slip when he really wants nothing more than to brood in peace is disturbing. To him, at least.

Shaking his head at her question, he crosses his arms. Somewhat defensive, though it's not so much about his claim as it is the fact that he's feeling awfully vulnerable considering he seems to be unable to keep his mouth shut today.

"She couldn't have made that walk." A pause, and then: "I looked anyway. Couple hours, she ain't out there."

And then he scowls, the slightest flush creeping into his cheeks. He isn't giving anything away, really, but he's giving more than he'd like, and it's a problem. Probably best to change the subject; he's been meaning to ask Martha about something else anyway.

"You doin' alright? That chess bullshit was fuckin' brutal." ...Okay, so that came out a little more blunt and abrupt than he'd anticipated...

The redness in Daryl's face is the only thing that tips Martha off about something being wrong. He just doesn't seem to be the type for that. He's acting a bit strange, but she doesn't know him well enough to pinpoint it beyond that.

He's right, though. With the state Ruby's leg is in, there would be no way, not unless she'd gotten some healing to fix it up. Daryl seems to know those woods like the back of his hand, so if he didn't spot her there or in the mansion itself, then he may be right.

"It's always hard, losing a friend, but we should just remind ourselves that she's probably better off." Martha might not have quite meant to say all that, but it's nothing more than the truth of the matter, so she doesn't think much of it.

When Daryl asks after her, though, that's when she truly finds herself saying words she never intended to. "It was brutal. I'm fine physically, but it did take its toll. Not so much what happened to me, but seeing that sort of cruelty used against my friends, up close and personal..." She cuts herself off, frowning in confusion because she had not meant for that. "Sorry."

It might alleviate some of his aggravation to know that he likely doesn't appear as strange to Martha as he feels... But the fact remains that something is clearly wrong, even if she can't work out what.

And as far as Ruby, well... He knows what Martha's saying is true. She'd told him all about Storybrooke, and curse aside it hadn't sounded bad at all. She's got family to go home to, friends (even if a few of them had been here with her, she'd mentioned that too), a life... Still, a small, selfish part of him wishes she'd stayed. Friends are hard to come by for him, and so losing one is always a blow.

"People say that about dyin' too, don't make it any easier. Wish she stayed."

...Aaaand he hadn't meant to say that. Obviously. He'd meant to give her a stoic nod and have that be that but goddammit, apparently his mouth ain't havin' it. He's actually glad for the fact that Martha's answer just keeps on going, hoping it'll draw attention away from the fact that he's apparently not capable of keeping his (terrible) thoughts to himself this morning. His body doesn't seem to wanna leave, either, and so now he's left to word vomit all over her on a different subject.

"Real hard to watch, 'specially when you can't do shit about it. Felt like that from the stands even if it ain't the same thing, fuckin' helpless. And I don't care what the red bitch said, had to have been another way to deal with the other one besides sendin' y'all down there to die." He blinks, and then adds: "...Somethin's wrong."

Very wrong.

Dying is extremely different from going home, and so Martha doesn't quite accept that comparison. She can understand that Daryl's upset to have lost Ruby, though -- that's clear now, and so she isn't going to hold his words against him. He's probably not in the best state of mind right now.

It's not as if it's easy for her to accept that Ruby's gone, but the sooner she comes to terms with it, the better. She wonders if Emma and the others know...

Daryl moves on, and so Martha does as well. Though the chess match is even more difficult for her to talk about, and she ends up wringing her hands unconsciously while Daryl speaks. "I feel the same way. I keep being told that if she hadn't agreed to that chess game, it would have been even worse, but I don't know if that's necessarily true. I spoke to her directly about it, but it wasn't exactly helpful."

She blinks at him and tilts her head when he mentions that something's wrong. It seems to have come out of nowhere from her perspective, but Daryl looks serious about it, so she moves past him into the diner and takes a seat, eyeing him carefully. "Is there?"

It is different- and normally, he wouldn't draw such a comparison, especially not out loud. But the fact remains that for every person he's lost, he'd heard that more than he'd like. 'They're better off' or 'it's better there' doesn't do him a bit of good, not at this point in the grieving period. Which is what this is, whether he admits it to himself or not.

"Talked to her myself... Don't know that I buy all of what she said, she's got a real problem with straight answers." Dodging questions is pretty much the worst way to earn Daryl's trust.

Frowning, he actually sits himself down across from her, picking at a callous on his palm under the table.

"Yeah. I'm talkin' too much." ...Awkward. But he feels compelled (ahaaa...) to elaborate: "I was tryin' to haul ass outta here 'cause this is the last place I wanna be right now but I can't stop talkin'." He scowls. "Ain't used to oversharin'. Don't like it much."

So Daryl spoke with the Red Queen too? Martha suspects plenty of people did, and since no one made any announcements on the network with some useful information, that likely means that the Queen was just as maddening with her responses no matter who she spoke to. It's frustrating, but at least Martha knows it's not a fault of hers for not asking the right questions.

She isn't prepared for what Daryl has to say. Talking too much? Over-sharing? Martha doesn't feel that different from normal, but it does seem like Daryl's been a bit more chatty than usual. She'd thought it was because of Ruby's disappearance, but apparently not.

"If you don't want to be here, then let's not be," she says near instantly, standing from the seat almost as soon as she fell down into it. "I should have thought about that. You two were close. Why would you want to be here?"

Right, maybe she shouldn't have said quite that much. Martha shakes her head and starts for the door.

He hadn't been able to resist, not when she was right there and seemed to be inviting all kinds of questions and grievences... Not that she'd given him much to go by, of course, but it'd been worth a shot.

If anything, Ruby's disappearance should have had the effect of making him into even more of a recluse than normal; at the very least he'd be talking a hell of a lot less. Not in the cards this time, it seems. If there was someone to curse for this, he'd sure as hell be doing it.

There isn't, though, and so much like back home in Georgia, he's got no choice but to grin and bear it. And talk about it, apparently:

"I don't." And he (gratefully) stands as well, making a beeline for the doors because jesus christ does he not wanna be there. He looks over at Martha once they've made it into the hall. "You ain't feelin' weird at all?"

It can't just be him. For the love of god.

Martha doesn't mind leaving, and the fact that Daryl seems less tense when they make it out into the hall proves that it was worth it to get him out of there. Which means now all they can do is wander aimlessly, but that's fine, isn't it?

She considers his question. She feels a bit strange, maybe, but she wouldn't have noticed unless Daryl had said something. She shrugs at him and shoves her hands into her jean pockets before she realizes...

"Well, we could test it. Ask me something... I don't know, personal." She may be inviting some embarrassment on herself by doing this, but seeing how Daryl's apparently already been going through that, it only seems fair.

They need to figure out if this is something happening to everyone or if someone's decided to target Daryl specifically.

Given the fact that he seems to be prone to vomiting out his life story right now, yeah, Daryl ain't too upset about the idea of doing some wandering. At least like this he won't feel like he's being interrogated... Even if the situation is actually reversed.

And on the subject of interrogation:

"What's it like, where you're from?" Not necessarily personal to most people... But things are different for Daryl. Besides, it's hard not to be a little curious when he's spoken to wizards, werewolves, and fluffy orange dudes with mustaches. The stories he's heard since being here have been almost as bizarre as his own...

That's a simple question. Martha would have thought Daryl would ask something a bit more private about her, since this might not prove that she's suffering from the same thing that he is.

Still, the words start to spill out of her mouth before she's even thought about it, and that's strange. She places her hands into her jacket pockets as she walks and talks.

"Where I'm from? I'm from London. You know, for most of my life, I couldn't even say there was anything strange about it, either. I was just working to get my medical degree, and that was it, really. My family's a bit mad, but I love them to death. Mum, Dad, Tish..."

She trails off, feeling for a moment like she's forgetting something. She frowns, shrugs, and keeps going.

"But then that all changed, when I met the Doctor. He's an alien, a Time Lord, and he's got this ship that can travel through time and space. I helped him out, and then he asked me to come along with him. To tell you the truth, I fancied him quite a bit--"

Martha cuts herself off then, looking truly horrified as she clenches her jaw. "... All right," she admits, "you may have a point."

Now, Daryl'd been content to keep on walking, nodding and listening to her story without interruption- London, okay, medical degree, yeah, he'd figured that much, her family... Nothing out of the ordinary.

But he stops dead and turns to look at her the second "alien" leaves her mouth, and his expression only gets more incredulous from there. Travelling around in a fucking spaceship? Honestly, (and probably luckily for Martha, if her face is anything to go by), the 'fancied him' part of the whole thing is the least of Daryl's concerns.

"You were flyin' around with an alien? Good lord." Seriously, of all the people here, Martha's the one who'd seemed most... Normal, for lack of a better word. Average. Looks like that ain't the case. And while being here has done wonders for his openmindedness as far as weird shit goes, it takes a few seconds for him to shake off the 'no fucking way' reaction that's still clinging pathetically to life.

"Wasn't expectin' that." It probably goes without saying, but it slips out anyway. "What the hell were y'all doin' in space?"

It's the reaction Martha should have expected, really. It's how any normal person would respond when hearing something like that, but she's been in Wonderland for so long that she's used to people simply accepting the stranger facts of her life without even a double-take. Not Daryl, though -- it seems that he's still clinging to any bit of normalcy that he can. Martha can hardly blame him.

She pauses to face him, giving him a sympathetic look because she realizes it's a lot to take in. Especially considering that he's gone a few months without ever learning this about her. It's not that Martha goes out of her way to hide it, but it doesn't always come up, that's all.

"He doesn't look particularly like an alien. Actually, you'd think he was human if you just saw him walking down the street. He's got two hearts, though." Seeing how that's one of the first things Martha learned about him, she'd had a head start on accepting what the Doctor truly was -- and even then, it had been difficult.

"And... well, the Doctor spends most of his time traveling from place to place. He does fancy Earth -- and London specifically, so he visits it a lot, so that's how we happened to meet. He's usually running around trying to help people or repair tears in time, things like that," Martha explains. She hopes that Daryl actually believes her and doesn't write her off as being completely mental. This event seems to involve speaking the truth, so that should be proof enough, shouldn't it?

He crosses his arms.

"And you were helpin' him do all that, all over the place?" That isn't exactly hard to believe, considering all she's done to help out since she'd arrived here. It's one of the reasons he'd trusted her in the first place- her manner has always been straightforward, genuine, and so yeah... He could see her sticking a bandaid on a tear in time. Whatever the hell that means.

He's a little out of his element here.

"Shit, I'd never even been outta Georgia before I came here."

"That's right." Martha shifts around and leans against the wall, making certain that they're not too close to any of the mirrors in the hall. It's frustrating having to adapt to watching her back all the time, now that they've returned to this side. "I don't travel with him anymore, but I was with him for quite some time. Saw a lot of things... went through quite a bit."

At least she isn't going so far as to toss out every single detail about her time with the Doctor because of this event. If that happened, then they would be here all day.

She's surprised to hear that Daryl hasn't seen much of the world, though. He seems very handy and reliable, so she'd thought he would have been well-traveled. Then again, his manner and the things he specializes in had made her fairly certain he was from somewhere in the South...

"What was your life like, before you came here? You seem very resourceful, so I thought... I don't know, that you'd been through a lot, I suppose."

"Sounds like it." He can't even imagine the kind of things she must have seen- literally can't imagine it, he's always been more of the practical type. The closest thing he has to go off of is that kid he'd met out in the woods the first month he'd been here. He'd claimed to be from another planet... Looked the part too, grey skin and horns...

Aliens that look like people are a little more unsettling.

And here they go- he'd been waiting for her to ask that; as soon as he'd let slip about where he'd come from, he'd known the details were bound to come up sooner or later. It's not even that he'd been deliberately hiding it, only that, well... He isn't looking for pity. He's always been the type to keep his troubles to himself, after all.

"I was stayin' in a prison with my people. Wasn't there right before I came here though," he adds, because elaboration is the name of the game today. "Some crazy asshole snatched up two of our people when they were out lookin' for formula, took 'em back to this town... We went to get 'em back." And then, horribly, he continues: "When we found 'em they said it was my brother that took 'em." He'd really prefer to keep Merle out of this, especially when he doesn't know the whole story... But he can't seem to do that.

"I was lookin' for him when them sons of bitches grabbed me... And then I was here." When he finally stops talking, he looks both aggravated with himself and a little tired.

It might help if Martha had a better idea of what sort of life Daryl comes from, but he doesn't exactly offer that. Instead, he jumps right into explaining the situation leading up to his arrival here, and it's a confusing set of information. Staying in a prison? Why? It didn't sound like he meant that he'd been locked up for committing a crime. And what's all this about a formula?

At the mention of a sibling, Martha has to fight not to let out a sigh. That's even more complicated, then. The fact that Daryl wasn't even able to get to the bottom of things before he came here must add to the frustration -- since as far as Martha knows, he doesn't have any friends from home to clear things up for him.

"So let me get this straight... you were staying in a prison with some other people and then a few of them were kidnapped, possibly by your brother? Why were you staying there? And what does a formula have to do with anything?" It certainly sounds important, if people would go to such lengths to find it, but Martha's struggling to piece together the out of context facts that Daryl's given.

It probably would help, yeah. And luckily for Martha, there's nothing Daryl can do to side-step what was actually going on back home.

"There ain't noplace else left to stay. Ain't much left at all. There was a sickness, an infection, I guess, I got no idea how it works-" and he narrows his eyes, feeling as if he should know but just doesn't- "but people started dyin'. Mostly in the cities at first, where there were a bunch of people crowdin' around, then all over... Killed damn near everybody in a few weeks. And then they started comin' back, but they weren't people no more. The dead-" He frowns. "We call 'em 'walkers'."

He and Merle had taken to calling them 'eaters', but that hadn't stuck with the group in Atlanta... He sighs, and then continues:

"You let 'em near you and they'll tear you apart, take a bite out of you and if they do, you turn. Hell, you turn anyway, it don't matter how you go. Ain't no place for a kid..." His expression softens just a bit. "Guy leadin' our group, his wife had a little girl... We had people out lookin' for stuff for her. Her mom didn't make it."

Out of everything Martha might have expected, this? This isn't it. The more that Daryl speaks, the more horrified she looks. Granted, she's been in a world that was gripped by that kind of terror. She'd watched as the Master ordered for a tenth of the population to be murdered. But an illness, something that kills a person and then brings them back, like -- like zombies? That's something that should only exist in a film or a book.

The same could be said for plenty of what she goes through, and she knows that, but Daryl's living through the slow death of the world. Of Earth, supposedly. That's something that must end up being stopped in some way, right? Unless it's not the same Earth as the one that Martha comes from. She knows when and how her planet dies, and it's not like that.

His story gets worse and worse, but it shouldn't be a surprise that children were caught up in that mess too. Still, Martha's got her hand clapped over her mouth as she tries not to create mental images for the things that Daryl's describing.

No wonder he's so distant. He's got good reason to be, after what he's been through. Martha doesn't want to consider how many people Daryl's seen die and then come back, and he's -- he's had to kill them, hasn't he? That must be why he'd set up those traps during that event as well.

"I don't..." She pauses when she realizes her voice is quavering, and tries again. "I had no idea. I've been through some harrowing situations, but they always got fixed, in the end. The whole world's been at stake before, but we always... stopped it, you know?" Daryl doesn't get the luxury of an easy fix.

"Wonderland must seem like nothing compared to where you're from."

He can the horror in her face, the way her voice shakes when she tries to speak... All things he'd have liked to avoid, and is making a point to push out of his mind now. Yeah, he knows- just 'cause he's livin' it don't make it any easier to stomach.

"Ain't nobody fixin' things back in Georgia. It just keeps gettin' worse. This other town's gonna be nothin' but trouble for my group and there ain't shit I can do about it from here." There's another reason he doesn't like talking about this: his shoulders sag somewhat as his mind wanders to all the ways that mess could go wrong, visions of one worst case scenario after another; he's not a worrier, he's realistic. Any number of things could be going on, and none of them are good... Hell, he isn't even sure if the rest of them had made it back to the prison in one piece. He hasn't forgotten, there's no way he could ever forget- and he doesn't want to- but talking about it means breaking down a wall he's been trying very hard to maintain since he'd arrived here.

He needs to focus on what's in front of him, and he can't do that if he lets himself think so much.

"This place is different. This place messes with my head, makes me do shit I don't wanna do." Like right now, obviously. "But it's safer, there's stuff here that could keep my people safe. Happy, I guess. I'd bring 'em here if I could," he admits, "but it don't look like that's an option I got. So I gotta go back." This place has its perks... But they're perks he can't really enjoy knowing the horrors his friends are facing back home.

"Shit." That was a whole lot of sentimental shit he barely allows himself to register, let alone say it out loud. He looks away, gnawing at his lip like it's going out of style.

Daryl's situation doesn't sound like the sort of thing that can get better. Not unless the doctors where he's from are able to find a cure for that illness, but it sounds so severe that Martha already gets the feeling that it won't be possible. Not that she wouldn't have tried, if she were in that position, but she can't deny that even hearing about it fills her with a hopelessness that makes her uncomfortable.

She doesn't blame Daryl for preferring this place, for wanting to bring his friends here so that they would be safe from being killed or turned into something monstrous. Most of the time, she can't fathom why someone wouldn't want to go home, but in this case, it's no surprise.

"Time shouldn't be passing while you're here. Not sure if that's good or bad, to be honest, but at least it means that you don't have to feel like you're letting them down." It does mean he'll be going back to the exact same mess whenever he leaves this place, though. But at least Wonderland grants him the time to plan.

Daryl's swearing makes it clear that he would rather not be speaking about this, and Martha isn't going to force him into that position. Because he's right -- Wonderland is all about warping their thoughts or making them do things they don't actually want to do, and she isn't going to feed into that.

"Anyway, we don't have to talk about this anymore," she adds. "I'm sorry I asked." She hadn't realized that can of worms she'd been opening.

If he could remember it, he'd have added the fact that he'd seen the lab, he'd seen the guy who was supposed to be able to fix it, or at least have some kind of idea where to start. He'd tell her how he'd heard straight from the horse's mouth that there is no stopping it, no cure, no nothing, and that any chance they may have had had gone up in flames along with one of their group and some poor bastard who'd run out of time.

But he doesn't remember any of that. Doesn't really matter- he hadn't had much hope going in anyway.

Just like he doesn't have too much hope for what's going on back home. He's heard of a few people who've gone home and then come back with stories about how nothing had changed, but he can't shake that feeling that he ought to be doing something, not just passing the time here until fate or one of those bitches or whoever sees fit to drop him back into Georgia where he belongs.

"Still feels that way." He shakes his head, and is exceptionally glad for her offer of changing the subject. He doesn't blame her for asking, of course, because how the hell was she supposed to know? And after all, he'd asked her the same thing. "Don't worry about it, we're good. Bound to come out sooner or later anyway," he says, finally looking over at Martha again. "Probably ain't even the strangest shit you've heard of."

It can't be easy. Martha's even more relieved that she wasn't brought here in the middle of a crisis. It had been just after one had been resolved, but if she'd been pulled here just a little bit earlier, she would have been throwing a fit upon her arrival. It makes her wonder how Daryl had behaved when he'd first woken up here, but she's not about to ask that when he doesn't have the luxury of being able to filter his response.

He's right, of course. It's only a matter of time before she learns about the lives that the people she meets here have waiting for them back home. Some good, and some most definitively bad. Daryl just happens to fall squarely into the second category, and Martha feels for him.

At his final remark, Martha can't help laughing. "No, probably not. Though it is something different. I've had to save the Earth from a number of different things, but undead? Not one of them." Which probably isn't going to make him feel any better, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from speaking the words once she started talking.

"Anyway, maybe we should... quit while we're ahead? Or behind? Whatever it is?" Martha quirks a smile at Daryl. She doesn't mind being open like this, so long as there aren't too many awkward moments, but she can see that it bothers him. Maybe they're better off parting ways at this point.

The relief is plain on his face when she suggests they cut this chat short, and though he crosses his arms his entire appearance is looking a hell of a lot less strained than it has throughout the conversation.

"Sounds like a plan. ...Thanks," he adds, because at this point he has no choice but to be open about his gratitude. Her offer of an out is probably one of the more compassionate things anyone's done for him since he'd arrived here, and he won't forget it. He's already turning down the opposite hallway to plan his escape route...

"Fuckin' Mirror made a goddamn mess in my room that needs cleanin' up." As of right now he's blissfully unaware of the extent of that 'mess'... And both he and Martha are probably better off for that.

The relief is so obvious that Martha almost wishes that she'd ended this earlier. Now that both of them know that they're completely unfiltered, she gets the feeling they'll both be whiling away the rest of the day in their rooms. That's Martha's plan, at least, and it sounds like Daryl's got something similar in mind.

She laughs at his parting comment. "Every day I feel a bit luckier that my Mirror isn't completely mental." Her room looks more or less exactly the same as when she left it, and so she's grateful for that. It's not as if she didn't pay the same courtesy to her Mirror's room, after all.

"I'll see you 'round, then," she tells him with a quick wave before she heads down the opposite direction toward her room.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

012] the blind truth [closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

holy fuck man I am so sorry for the grammar and accidental of verbs in that last tag.........

IT'S COOL I hardly noticed.

/o\

no subject