Survival of the Fittest: A Walking Dead Roleplay

[Acacia Sage]

It all started very suddenly. The television was on, playing some comedy softly in the background. Anna was puttering around in the kitchen, humming quietly to herself as she stirred the mixture of ingredients in the bowl in front of her. All the windows were open in the warm breeze. It felt nice on her heated skin. Her hair was twisted into a loose bun at the back of her head. She had gotten annoyed with the way that it kept falling in her eyes.

She had just gotten a call from Peter. He was going to be home soon. She had been so lost in excitement that she had almost forgotten she had promised to make him his favorite; chocolate swirl cake. So she had hurried into the kitchen and immediately started gathering ingredients, twisting on the over to preheat and hoping and praying that everything was finished before he got home. She hadn't seen him in months and she just wanted everything to be perfect for her favorite brother.

And that was when it happened.

Her father came tumbling into the house with such force that he door from the outside that led into the kitchen slammed into the wall, making her jump. She was so shocked that she almost dropped the spoon. Worry made her angry and Anna rounded on her father, her mouth open to yell at him for making so much noise when the words died on her lips. In all of her twenty three years, Anna had never seen John Danvers look so utterly worried.

"Pack your bags," he said restlessly. "I need you to get out of the city."

((I could have done something longer, but I wanted to give you a chance to set up Daryl. ))

[LoneWolfie]

Daryl Dixon blew the smoke into a circle, watching it drift towards the cloudless sky, his feet propped up on his back porch. The railing was threatening to fall into the grass that was beginning to overgrow, curling around the various tools and car parts scattered around in it. He blew another circle into the air, the light breeze coming through and blowing it away. He sighed, putting the cigarette between his lips and letting it dangle there, stretching out more. His muscles were kind of sore from the latest hunt him, his Pa, and Uncle Jess did. They had bagged a big, hearty buck and enough rabbits and squirrels to last them for weeks. Despite all they brought in, though, his Pa and Uncle Jess wanted to go again for the weekend. He wanted to go. He felt at ease, surrounded by the trees and thick bush, hearing a bird's call or an animal rustling leaves. He always felt better having a shotgun or his crossbow tucked snugly against his shoulder, pointing his sights down an unknowing deer or rabbit. It's what he was good at, pride himself in.

His thoughts were cut short as heard the deep rumble of an engine coming down the driveway. "Daryl!" Uncle Jess' voice echoed, followed by two truck doors slamming shut. There goes his peace. He got up, stubbing the cigarette out against the railing, before going down the stairs that creaked dangerously loud at his sudden weight. "Dixon!" Uncle Jess repeated, his voice closer. "I'm 'ere, damn!" Daryl scoffed back, turning the corner of the run down house to see Uncle Jess and his Pa speed-walking through the ankle-high grass. Daryl didn't miss the blood running down Uncle Jess' arm, his hand clamped over a nasty-look injury on his forearm, ruby blood seeping between his fingers and dripping down from his fingertips.

"What the hell happened ta ya?" Daryl demanded, picking up pace to meet them halfway in the yard. His Pa looked pissed off with a undertone of worry. The man was an asshole, through and through, but it was still Daryl's father and he knew him well enough. He knew seeing that undertone of worry wasn't a good thing. "We were down at the huntin' store, gettin' some shells, when this fuckin' idiot jumped me and bit me!" Uncle Jess said, pain and anger in his eyes. Daryl's eyebrows shot up. "He bit ya?" he said, in a disbelieving tone. "Yes!" Uncle Jess said, squeezing his arm tightly, more blood making its way through his fingers. "Pulled the fucker off. Kept comin' at us. Owner of the shop, Greg, shot 'im in the head. That stopped 'im." His Pa said, pulling a cigarette out and putting it to his lips. He pulled a lighter out and Daryl could see his fingers slightly shaking. He tried to not dwell on it too much. "Then 'nother one showed up! Started bangin' on the windows and causing a fuss! I don't what the fuck is happenin' but it ain't good." Uncle Jess said gravely, looking down at his bloodied arm. Daryl didn't know what the fuck was happening either but he had to agree, it didn't sound good.

[Acacia Sage]

"Dad, what the hell are you talking about?" Anna asked the slightly disgruntled man in front of her. He was frowning and shaking his head and muttering to himself. He went over to the stove and turned it off. Then he went to the cupboards and started taking the food out of all of them and piling it all on the kitchen table. "Dad!" Anna cried, shocked it his behavior. She went over to his side. "What's the matter with you?"

He rounded on her and his eyes were bloodshot, angry, red. He was breathing deeply through his nose and she noticed that there was a cut on the side of his cheek that didn't look to good. "I just need you to go and pack. Trust me. I'll tell you later." When she opened her mouth to protest, he went on, talking over her. "I said GO! Grab everything you'll need and nothing more." He then began shoveling the cans of food onto a bag that he had grabbed from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He filled it to the brim and then went in search of another one.

Anna watched her father go, shaking her head. She chewed the inside of her cheek and turned, deciding that it was probably better to just humor him. He sometimes got like this. She didn't know why. But she knew the best thing to do was follow along with whatever he said. It would pass shortly. So she took the stairs two at a time up to her room and pulled out her suitcase. As she tossed in a few random articles of clothing, she caught a glance at the picture frame resting against her dresser. She went over to it, picking it up. Her fingers traced over the two faces on the paper, one smiling, the other scowling deeply. Her lips twitched at the memory. With a sigh, she set the photo down. She should call him.

She grabbed her cellphone from the bed and pressed the number three on her speed dial. It rang a few times and she chewed on her thumbnail. "Come one, Daryl," she mumbled to herself. "Answer the phone...." She needed to tell him that something was wrong with her dad again.

[LoneWolfie]

"So yer tellin' me people are bitin' each other or somethin'?" Daryl said slowly, eyeing Jess' arm before looking up into his face. Uncle Jess shook his head. "I know it sounds crazy but it's true." he said, dropping his gaze again to his arm. Daryl looked towards his Pa, wondering what the hell they planned to do. "Are ya sure he wasn't just some crazy fuck?" Daryl asked, not wanting to over react about this. He didn't want too think something was extremely wrong and be wrong himself. "There were more actin' funny." Uncle Jess said, squeezing his arm and trying to hide the pain it caused. The blood kept seeping, slipping through his fingers and running down his tanned arm. "Shit." Daryl muttered, not sure what to think. He noticed the blood still flowing and motioned towards the front of the house. "Let's get inside, get yer arm patched up." he said.

Uncle Jess nodded, turning and heading towards the front of the house. His Pa hesitated, looking at Daryl as smoke drifted in front of his face. "There somethin' fucked up happenin', boy." he finally said, holding Daryl's gaze. Daryl frowned at his father. "It'll blow over. Ya know how people over react." he said, walking past his Pa and following after Uncle Jess. "I ain't so sure." his Pa argued, following Daryl. Daryl shook his head. He didn't feel like discussing this. He wasn't sure what was happening, all he knew what that Uncle Jess got bit by some crazy sounding fucker and there were a few more like that. It would blow over, people had a tendency to over react about these things, Daryl firmly believed that.

He walked inside the rickety house. This place hadn't been properly taken care of since his Ma passed away. Nobody had decided to care after that. Uncle Jess was seated on the wooden chair beside the small kitchen table, dripping blood onto the dirty, tiled floor. Daryl didn't care, it had seen a lot worse. He walked into the bathroom that was off the short hallway, bending down and digging around under the sink. He found the first aid kit he made sure to have around. It became useful on those days his Pa got angry or Merle just got too drunk and stupid. He walked out to the kitchen, to see his Pa sitting on the couch with a missing leg, a brick under it to even it out. He had the small TV in the corner of the room on, the News flashing across the screen. Daryl didn't want to pay attention to it. They were probably making people panic for no reason.

He set the first aid kit on the table, popping it open, when he heard that annoying jingle going off in his pocket. He didn't bother to learn how to change it. He didn't even want the cell phone to begin with but it was very convenient to have when he wasn't at home with the house phone. Uncle Jess glanced towards his pocket. "I got this." he grunted, turning towards the table to better reach the first aid kit. Daryl pulled out the cheap, plastic flip phone and saw on the tiny screen, who was calling. Usually, he rejected his phone calls, but this one, he always answered. He flipped it open as he walked down the short hallway, entering his messy bedroom. "Wha'?" he answered, wondering if something had happened to her.

[Acacia Sage]

Anna was pacing nervously. She had started to chew on her nail before she caught herself and yanked her hand away from her mouth. It was a nasty habit that she'd mostly gotten rid of. She used to do it all the time. Now it was just something she did when she was angry or upset or nervous. And she was nervous right then because she could hear her father in the next room over, tossing things around and the phone felt like it had been ringing forever. And then....

Then he answered.

Daryl's voice was gruff and he sounded preoccupied, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The relief she felt when she heard him was so strong that she almost fell over. She hated days like this, really hated them. Her head was pounding and it only got worse as she heard her father yell out a few choice words and throw something at the wall. She jumped at the loud crash. "Daryl," she said in fear. "Daryl, he's doing it again."

It. It was something that Anna had become accustomed to in the years since her mother had died two years ago. John would be fine one minute and not the next. Usually it was minor things; he would complain about the weather or that he felt like he was being watched. But other times...those were scary. Once, he had come home in such a fit of rage that he'd toppled over the TV. When she had asked him why, he had claimed that it was because the government was using the commercials to send waves into their brains to control them. When she had tried to stop him...he had flipped out and shoved her. It was the only time he had ever laid a hand on her. She had called Daryl right away.

Now...Now she was sure that this was just another one of his episodes. "I need you to come over," she said hoarsely, trying to keep the tears from her voice as she heard another crash.

[LoneWolfie]

Daryl could hear the muffled noises of yelling and crashes. It made his shoulders tense up as he heard Anna's words spill forth from the speaker at his ear. He couldn't believe this. Now, of all times. He reached up, running his fingers through his hair, letting out a huff. He had to go over there. He was always there for her. Just because his Pa thought something was wrong or because Uncle Jess got a little bite didn't mean anything right now. He had to go help Anna, make sure she was safe. He didn't like how her voice sounded.

"I'll be right over." he said roughly before hanging up, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. He didn't like this one bit. Now he felt like something was wrong. Now he felt like something bad was happening. He didn't like feeling this way, he didn't want to over react. He walked out of his bedroom, to see Uncle Jess wrapping up his arm and wiping the blood off. His face was pale, his eyes a bit red. Daryl tried to not show his concern. Uncle Jess was a big boy, he would tell them if he needed more help, like a hospital. "I gotta go." he said, heading towards the door.

"Where ya goin'?" his Pa demanded, looking up from the TV, a fresh cigarette dangling between his lips. Daryl paused at the door, glancing back. "Anna called." he said. His Pa knew of Anna's father's episodes, knew Daryl had to go over to try and calm everything down. His Pa let out a huff of smoke. "I'm tellin' ya, boy, somethin's happenin' out there and John just knows it." he said. Daryl shook his head. "You've been watchin' too much News. Gonna start thinkin' like those other over reactin' idiots." he said, opening the front door.

"You'll see, boy. Come back 'ere after ya get 'er." his Pa ordered. Daryl shook his head. He wasn't going to force Anna back here if she didn't want to come. He was just going to go over there and try and calm everything down. Make sure she stayed safe. He gave a curt nod before leaving, slamming the door and walking towards Merle's pick-up, his motorcycle propped up in the back. He didn't hesitant, getting in and hitting the paved road the next second. The drive to Anna's house wasn't long, especially considering he sped. Nothing on the streets looked strange to him. He had passed a wreck with a couple police cars there but besides that, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Now his Pa was going to be over reacting, that was just great. He parked in front of Anna's house and got out, walking up to the front door. He never bothered with knocking. He walked in, looking around for her. "Anna?" he called.

[Acacia Sage]

As soon as she hung up the phone, Anna rushed to the bathroom. She grabbed a washcloth from beneath the sink and wet it with cold water. She hoped that she could get her father to relax long enough for her to get him settled down and get him his medication. She paused outside of his door. It was open just a crack and she could see that his room--once so clean and neat--was now a mess. Clothing was strewn everywhere. A few picture frames had been knocked off the dresser. The bed was stripped of everything but its pillows, those being piled up on the floor.

And there was her father. He was in the center of the room--the mess--throwing everything into a large suitcase. He was mumbling to himself, but she couldn't make out the words. Anna doubted that it would have mattered if she had. She sighed and took a step in. Her hands were shaking with nervous energy and she had to force herself to take in deep breaths and relax. "Daddy?" As called out softly. He turned to look at her, his shoulders tensing and then relaxing and then tensing again.

"Anna, baby," he said and his voice sounded as if he had run a mile. "Thank goodness. Have I told you to pack your things yet?" He shook his head and waved her off. "Doesn't matter. No time. They're coming. They told me."

Anna sucked in a breath. They. Who was they? She had always asked and he had never been able to give her a single answer. It always changed. The voices were never the same. "Daddy, I think you need to lie down..." She started off gently.

"No!"

Anna started, his suddenly harsh tone bringing her slow moving steps to a stop. Her heart hammered in her chest. "Daddy, please. Please, just..."

At that second, she heard the front door open and Daryl's unmistakeable voice call out her name. Her heart gave that little flutter that it always did when she knew he was around and she turned, ready to call out when suddenly she was forced to the side. She tipped over, smacking her temple against the dresser. She winced and cursed, sitting up, only to discover that her dad was no longer in the room. "Daddy!" She called, forcing herself to her feet to go after him.

[LoneWolfie]

Daryl could remember the many times he's walked through this door with that little coil of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn't let Anna know that he was always worried, almost fearful, for her when her father got like this. He hid it well behind the mask that he had years and years of creating, the stony expression that only a hard labored life could bring on. He never liked doing this. He never liked having to come over and deal with Anna's father. He wasn't the comforting type, or he didn't think himself as that, but for Anna, he tried. He really did. He would keep trying, too, just because he cared for her. He had learned to not show that care often but he did through his actions, like right now, running over here and helping her.

He remembered the one time his Pa wanted to come with. He thought he could calm John down with a few harsh words. Daryl knew his Pa; he knew that's how he would try to handle it. He knew that wouldn't help anything, maybe make matters worse. He remembered how pissed off his Pa had been when he told him to sit his ass at home and he'd take care of it. His Pa thought he could fix anything with a few harsh words and sometimes fists involved as well. Daryl knew that well enough. He heard a bang, like something falling, but he was worried it was Anna or even her Pa falling. He felt his heart give a little jump though he wouldn't admit it did. "Anna?" he called again, feeling that nervousness swell in his stomach.

He hid it, though, keeping on his cool, calm expression as he walked towards the hallway. He heard Anna call out for her father and frowned. He hated that Anna had to go through this. He hated that she had to deal with matters such as these. Anna was a good person, a sweet girl, she didn't deserve this. He really believed that though he's never spoken it out loud. He couldn't tell her those things. It would show softness which his Pa made him believe was weakness. And Daryl Dixon didn't see himself as a weak person at all. He refused to be anything in relation to weak.