[Before she knows it, she's downed half her glass and decides to refill. She does so wordlessly, as before, and sets the bottle back down on the table - in between them. He doesn't have to take her up on the offer of more now, but it's an outstanding invitation. She's expecting to finish the bottle between the two of them.
Once he does start speaking, Rosa's gaze lands somewhere in the liquid in her glass, though it's obvious that she's listening. Even if .. she doesn't totally get what he's talking about.]
Here as in .. here? In this place? These people you knew from before?
[He nodded slowly, swallowing the last of his first glass before he finally took the bottle and refilled it. Swallowed on a dry throat to clear the lump that was forming before he took another drink.
His head dropped and nodded again.]
Were... were family. Weren't blood, but... they're family.
[There was a pause before he gave a bitter snort, half in amusement and half in pain.]
Andrea shot me in the head once. Was a bad shot, cause I survived.
That's what the 99 is for me. Family. I don't give a shit about my actual family and not seeing them again because I'm here's one of the few good things going for me. But .. not having the 99 .. that's .. [She stops, realizing she's teetering on showing too much emotion, as far as Rosa standards go. So, she stops.] I get it, is what I'm saying.
What happened when you went back? Do you remember?
[Daryl's hand tightened on his glass and his whole body went stiff. There was just a slight shake to his jaw as he breathed in. He looked away and took another drink as he nodded.]
Yeah.
[He finished the rest of that glass a lot faster than the first and poured a third.]
A lot of shit. That's what happened.
[A short beat before he went on:]
We're... we're under attack by... by this fucker who showed up here a few months ago. He ain't here no more, but I didn't know him then. Now I do. He shows up again, I'm gonna kill him.
[Rosa finishes off her first, allowing him to replenish his glass before doing the same with hers. She sets the bottle down and tosses half the glass back as he talks. Again, not staring at him, not being a creep about it, but obviously attention.
And obviously upset on his behalf.]
Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, man. I'll help you kill the fucker. I've got an endless supply of fucking blades, man. Anything you want. We'll take the fucker down.
[If he wasn't feeling so dour and full of anger and fear he was barely keeping in check, he would have smiled at her enthusiasm. Instead he just kept his eyes on the drink and spoke with a terseness that belied his emotions.]
Tall. Leather jacket. Red scarf. Carries a bat covered in barbed wire. Calls it Lucille.
[The last word, the name, was snarled. It came out like a big cat growling, complete with his mouth changing shape briefly to accommodate before it reverted back to human. But now that he'd gotten a little anger out, more of it started boiling under the surface, looking for release. His fingers tapped out on this glass, nails lengthening and curling into something between human and claws. There was a twitchyness to his nose, the ghostly outline of a muzzle flickering in and out every few seconds while he growled low in his throat to himself.]
[She downs the rest of her whiskey before placing the empty glass on the table. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.]
Wanna go shoot some shit? Or destroy something? [Her tone switches half-way through asking, finally taking notice of the ... changes that Daryl seems to be going through. What. The. Fuck? She shouldn't be surprised, given everything else that happens here, but .. uh. This wasn't what she was expecting.] Or, uh. Do I need to cage you up or something so you don't claw my fucking face off?
[Daryl was completely unaware of the changes going on with him. He hadn't had much of a chance to look at the damn folder they'd presented him with before he blacked out and woke up at Kaneki's cafe. And at that point he hadn't really cared to go back and ask. Things hadn't been good for him so...
His head snapped up and another snarl escaped him followed by a low growl.]
That ain't funny.
[How the fuck could she joke about putting him in a cage? That was such bullshit. That was...
Another snarl and Daryl was up and pacing, claws forming and disappearing in blinks as the shadow of tail swung behind him while his anger rose. He internally berated himself over the 'joke' because she didn't know what he'd been through. She didn't know he'd been put in a tiny fucking closet and kept like an animal for at least a week if not more. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been in that damn room with that damn song and Negan feeding him dog food like he was some sort of animal to be broken and tamed.
Daryl didn't mutter to himself, but it was clear he was getting more and more worked up until it hit a point where he ceased to be human and in his place was a highly agitated ghostly-looking-tiger. The tiger continued to pace in front of the coffee table, tail whipping about as it remained alter for any danger.]
Uh, it wasn't .. supposed .. to be .. It was a real question about my safety, man.
[Rosa's up off of the couch, whiskey glass still in-hand, slowly backing away from where Daryl's .. uh, seething and growling. She'd forgotten about the whole "powers" thing outside of her own knife-wielding ability, but she's starting to remember, seeing him transform like fucking Michael Jackson in Thriller. Only .. for real.
She vaguely wonders whether she'll have to dance herself out of danger as the zombies crawl up from the sewers.] Dude, what the fuck? [She mutters as his transformation finishes, and she's got her back pinned up against the wall.
Serial killers? No problem. Criminals with weapons? No big deal. See-through tiger things that were once humans? Not so much. She reaches into her jacket to grab a large saber, as well as a smaller hunting knife, wielding one in each hand. She has no intention of using them, but .. she also isn't sure how much of the thing prowling her living room is still her friend and how much has been taken over by .. whatever it was.]
Dude, what the fuck? I was kidding about the cage thing. We can still go fuck some shit up if you want, though.
[Daryl doesn't understand her like this. Not really. What he understands is that he's near someone he trusts and they seem to be just as agitated as he is, which means there must be danger near by. And since he can't see it immediately, or smell it, he needs to go investigating.
So the tiger starts moving around, sniffing at everything and exploring the house. Tail still twitching, but careful not to knock anything over.
Unless it's suspicious.
Like that strangely shaped rock with the flowers coming out of it.]
Yeah, just uh - explore, if you want. Do you want some ... I don't fucking know, something to eat? Meat? What do fucking ghost tigers eat, for fuck's sake?
[Rosa's keeping a respectable distance from the thing, though slightly following it - mostly out of curiosity.]
[The cat explored quite a bit, not at all phased by Rosa following it. That was sensible. She should stay where he could protect her from whatever the threat was. Though after some time, he had to come to the conclusion that the threat was gone. Probably ran away. They seemed safe enough. Nothing smelled weird and she was less agitated, though still wary.
Since he couldn't find anything wrong, he decided to attempt to soothe her and reassure her that everything was okay now. He padded around for a bit before walking right up to her and rubbing against her side, chuffing a bit with friendly, happy snorts.]
[Rosa lifts both hands up to shoulder height as the tiger draws closer, but once she sees that it's cool and isn't going to be ripping her leg off any time soon, she relaxes - even goes so far as to gently smooth the hair at his forehead back towards its ears. She has no idea if this is how someone's supposed to pet a fucking ghost tiger, but ..
So far, so good?]
So this is a cool fucking power, huh? Wish I could do that shit. Change shapes and whatever.
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maskormenace2017-10-10 03:56 pm
no subject
Once he does start speaking, Rosa's gaze lands somewhere in the liquid in her glass, though it's obvious that she's listening. Even if .. she doesn't totally get what he's talking about.]
Here as in .. here? In this place? These people you knew from before?
no subject
His head dropped and nodded again.]
Were... were family. Weren't blood, but... they're family.
[There was a pause before he gave a bitter snort, half in amusement and half in pain.]
Andrea shot me in the head once. Was a bad shot, cause I survived.
no subject
That's what the 99 is for me. Family. I don't give a shit about my actual family and not seeing them again because I'm here's one of the few good things going for me. But .. not having the 99 .. that's .. [She stops, realizing she's teetering on showing too much emotion, as far as Rosa standards go. So, she stops.] I get it, is what I'm saying.
What happened when you went back? Do you remember?
no subject
Yeah.
[He finished the rest of that glass a lot faster than the first and poured a third.]
A lot of shit. That's what happened.
[A short beat before he went on:]
We're... we're under attack by... by this fucker who showed up here a few months ago. He ain't here no more, but I didn't know him then. Now I do. He shows up again, I'm gonna kill him.
no subject
And obviously upset on his behalf.]
Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, man. I'll help you kill the fucker. I've got an endless supply of fucking blades, man. Anything you want. We'll take the fucker down.
I mean, if you want help.
Or whatever else you need, man.
What'd this fucker look like?
no subject
Tall. Leather jacket. Red scarf. Carries a bat covered in barbed wire. Calls it Lucille.
[The last word, the name, was snarled. It came out like a big cat growling, complete with his mouth changing shape briefly to accommodate before it reverted back to human. But now that he'd gotten a little anger out, more of it started boiling under the surface, looking for release. His fingers tapped out on this glass, nails lengthening and curling into something between human and claws. There was a twitchyness to his nose, the ghostly outline of a muzzle flickering in and out every few seconds while he growled low in his throat to himself.]
no subject
Wanna go shoot some shit? Or destroy something? [Her tone switches half-way through asking, finally taking notice of the ... changes that Daryl seems to be going through. What. The. Fuck? She shouldn't be surprised, given everything else that happens here, but .. uh. This wasn't what she was expecting.] Or, uh. Do I need to cage you up or something so you don't claw my fucking face off?
no subject
His head snapped up and another snarl escaped him followed by a low growl.]
That ain't funny.
[How the fuck could she joke about putting him in a cage? That was such bullshit. That was...
Another snarl and Daryl was up and pacing, claws forming and disappearing in blinks as the shadow of tail swung behind him while his anger rose. He internally berated himself over the 'joke' because she didn't know what he'd been through. She didn't know he'd been put in a tiny fucking closet and kept like an animal for at least a week if not more. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been in that damn room with that damn song and Negan feeding him dog food like he was some sort of animal to be broken and tamed.
Daryl didn't mutter to himself, but it was clear he was getting more and more worked up until it hit a point where he ceased to be human and in his place was a highly agitated ghostly-looking-tiger. The tiger continued to pace in front of the coffee table, tail whipping about as it remained alter for any danger.]
no subject
[Rosa's up off of the couch, whiskey glass still in-hand, slowly backing away from where Daryl's .. uh, seething and growling. She'd forgotten about the whole "powers" thing outside of her own knife-wielding ability, but she's starting to remember, seeing him transform like fucking Michael Jackson in Thriller. Only .. for real.
She vaguely wonders whether she'll have to dance herself out of danger as the zombies crawl up from the sewers.] Dude, what the fuck? [She mutters as his transformation finishes, and she's got her back pinned up against the wall.
Serial killers? No problem. Criminals with weapons? No big deal. See-through tiger things that were once humans? Not so much. She reaches into her jacket to grab a large saber, as well as a smaller hunting knife, wielding one in each hand. She has no intention of using them, but .. she also isn't sure how much of the thing prowling her living room is still her friend and how much has been taken over by .. whatever it was.]
Dude, what the fuck? I was kidding about the cage thing. We can still go fuck some shit up if you want, though.
no subject
So the tiger starts moving around, sniffing at everything and exploring the house. Tail still twitching, but careful not to knock anything over.
Unless it's suspicious.
Like that strangely shaped rock with the flowers coming out of it.]
no subject
[Rosa's keeping a respectable distance from the thing, though slightly following it - mostly out of curiosity.]
no subject
Since he couldn't find anything wrong, he decided to attempt to soothe her and reassure her that everything was okay now. He padded around for a bit before walking right up to her and rubbing against her side, chuffing a bit with friendly, happy snorts.]
this was ADORABLE
So far, so good?]
So this is a cool fucking power, huh? Wish I could do that shit. Change shapes and whatever.