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)
entrancelogs2016-02-14 09:41 am
thesamurai) wrote in entrancelogs2016-02-14 09:41 am
(no subject)
Who: Michonne + You
Where: The bar
When: Feb. 13th
Rating: Let's start at PG-13 for light cussing and we can move it up from there if we need to
Summary: Carl was here. Now he's gone. Quick as that. (prose or brackets is fine, will match!)
The Story:
[She goes to the bar at eleven in the morning after spending the beginning of the morning being as sure as she can that Carl really is gone. No trace of him, no sign that he was even here for a couple weeks.
Weeks.
Not months, not some good length of time.
Weeks. Just long enough for her to think it'd be nice to have some kind of get together at her place to introduce him to people, rather than drag him around the mansion. Just long enough for her to think others might show up, give her a little bit of hope. In all honesty, she should have known better. That shit was too good to be true, and she's learned in the past few years, good things never last. Not Andrea, not the prison, not Alexandria.
So, she's at the bar, and she realizes she has no one to tell about this disappearance because she didn't get to say anything to anyone about him when he was here. She was selfish with him so that she could enjoy it, something that was just hers for a while, her own happiness, and now there's no one else who knows what she's drinking herself into oblivion for. Except Regina; she realizes it around four shots in. During the last event, she pointed him out, proud that he was there, that she could finally say she had someone from home. Dragging out her messenger, she sends a quick text to Regina (Not too early for tequila.) She doesn't want to say outright that Carl is gone so she leaves it at that. Maybe it is too early for this, maybe she's with her kid, her family. All of her family.]
Goddammit.
[Her single utterance is muttered to no one in particular before she takes another shot, then just takes a bottle of whiskey, sitting hunched over the bar, her entire body rigid, jaw clenched. She knows she'll never go back to the 'fuck people' mentality and isolate herself, there are still too many in the mansion who do care - she can admit that. But Carl's gone, her family, and she's pissed as hell at Wonderland today.]
Where: The bar
When: Feb. 13th
Rating: Let's start at PG-13 for light cussing and we can move it up from there if we need to
Summary: Carl was here. Now he's gone. Quick as that. (prose or brackets is fine, will match!)
The Story:
[She goes to the bar at eleven in the morning after spending the beginning of the morning being as sure as she can that Carl really is gone. No trace of him, no sign that he was even here for a couple weeks.
Weeks.
Not months, not some good length of time.
Weeks. Just long enough for her to think it'd be nice to have some kind of get together at her place to introduce him to people, rather than drag him around the mansion. Just long enough for her to think others might show up, give her a little bit of hope. In all honesty, she should have known better. That shit was too good to be true, and she's learned in the past few years, good things never last. Not Andrea, not the prison, not Alexandria.
So, she's at the bar, and she realizes she has no one to tell about this disappearance because she didn't get to say anything to anyone about him when he was here. She was selfish with him so that she could enjoy it, something that was just hers for a while, her own happiness, and now there's no one else who knows what she's drinking herself into oblivion for. Except Regina; she realizes it around four shots in. During the last event, she pointed him out, proud that he was there, that she could finally say she had someone from home. Dragging out her messenger, she sends a quick text to Regina (Not too early for tequila.) She doesn't want to say outright that Carl is gone so she leaves it at that. Maybe it is too early for this, maybe she's with her kid, her family. All of her family.]
Goddammit.
[Her single utterance is muttered to no one in particular before she takes another shot, then just takes a bottle of whiskey, sitting hunched over the bar, her entire body rigid, jaw clenched. She knows she'll never go back to the 'fuck people' mentality and isolate herself, there are still too many in the mansion who do care - she can admit that. But Carl's gone, her family, and she's pissed as hell at Wonderland today.]
no subject
Yeah. [She looks him over again, trying to shake the eeriness of it all.] I can get that. Maybe not the poison food part. Yet. Sure someone’ll try it eventually.
[His choice of words are interesting, but she looks back at the bottle, tracing the label with her thumb.]
Pretty everyone feels that way. This place could change in an hour and suddenly we’re all about to die. But it’s still better than home most days.
no subject
[For all the relative luxury of this place, he still misses the Lucky 38 sometimes. He misses the creaking elevator and the spot in the carpet you had to hop over because there was no floor underneath. He misses the room with the hole in the ceiling that they would all draw straws to decide who had to sleep there.
And, though he never thought he would, he misses the Wasteland. The travelling. This place is so green, but sometimes it's too green.
Sometimes he even misses the deathclaws.]
The good things get easier to remember, then the bad things don't seem like they were so bad.
no subject
[She doesn't know if Alexandria is permanent yet. It might not be, since last she saw of it it was overrun with walkers. They'd thought the prison would be home, and that had gone straight to shit.]
We started figuring out how to deal with the bad, mostly. Home is them. Not the place we wind up.
no subject
[Certain people more than others, but mostly all of them. He observes his drink for a moment before knocking the lot of it back then hissing softly between his teeth.]
And yeah, yer right.. Just took me a while t' really realise that.
no subject
Once you realize it though, that either makes things better or worse, depending.
no subject
I'm Dan Palmer. Dog's name is Oscar.
no subject
Nice to meet you.
[Then, her gaze goes back to Dan.]
Both of you.
no subject
[His grip is firm, the skin on his fingers and palms rough and calloused. The dog looks up, chuffs once, then settles back down.]
Didn't mean to upset you any.
no subject
Not your fault. Just gonna blame Wonderland for this one, and all the crazy shit it pulls.
no subject
[Still.. none of it has yet resulted in meeting people who look like people he knows, but aren't.]
What kind of place do y' come from?
no subject
End of everything. Dead comin' back to life, eating the living. There're a few of us here from worlds like that.
[It almost has become just a couple of sentences explanation that she feels detached from. It's not the same as living it and it's hard to comprehend.]
no subject
[Yeah, he's heard it before, at least once. He nods and looks across the bar, fidgeting with his glass.]
Kinda the same for me, 'cept the ones still walkin' around trying to eat people never actually died. Whole lotta nasty mutations, too.