Daryl Dixon (
dirtyredneck) wrote in
undergrounds2017-02-02 04:03 pm
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A bobcat and a squirrel walk into a house...
Feb 3rd; Hillingdon House
Daryl was a hunter. Daryl was a good hunter. He could set a snare and shoot a turkey between the eyes at a hundred paces. What Daryl was not was a trapper. Keeping the things he hunted alive usually went against his nature.
Today, just a few hours before stomping through Hillingdon's doors, that nature had been challenged and he, well...
"I need a trapper," he announced loudly and tersely, shoulders tense and eyes darting around to see if anyone understood what he was talking about. "Pest control, even. The kind that do humane trapping that don't kill or harm the rodents. Anyone know anyone?"
At worst, one of the mice or rat shifters might. Was better than nothing.
Feb 5th; A park (Dawn); Closed to first responder
Daryl had a trap. He had the kid's scent. And now he just had to find her and convince her the trap wasn't a trap and... hell, would she even understand what he was saying? He'd only managed to realize she was human in some sense when she'd decided shifting and kicking him in the head would do more to save her ass than squeaking loudly as his paws came down on her. Convincing her he wasn't out to eat her now might be impossible.
Which is why he had back up. Turning to his accomplice, he whispered, (not for the first time), "If I can't get her to come eat, you gotta do it for me. I can take watch."
Because having someone on watch was very important. Especially if she shifted again. Two grown adults chasing a naked 3 or 4 year old in a public park would look really, really, really bad. God help them if it took all day...
Feb 5th; Dinnertime; For Liadan
Daryl pounded on the door to Liadan's place. The day had been a very long and tiring one and he hadn't been able to get his daily nap in which meant he was cranky as all get out. The tiny squirrel squirming around in the bandana he held tightly shut was not doing anything to calm him down, either. He knew he needed to let the kid out, but he couldn't do it at his house (he'd tried, that was a disaster: see lack of nap). And Liadan had experience with some of the Clan's children, so it was to her he went.
Between Feb 8th to around Feb 20th; Hillingdon House
It wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened in the back rooms of Hillingdon. Every so often one of the shifters tied to the clan couldn't get a sitter or didn't feel comfortable just yet with leaving their kid somewhere so they brought them to the house and set them off in one of the side rooms where they couldn't get into too much trouble. And every so often those kids would be small enough and just discovering their ability to shift that they ended up naked and running through the house. This was simply the first time Daryl had to deal with it and the kid wasn't even his. Well, technically. He was having no luck finding any info on Squirrel shifters that had lost a child in the last five years so chances were her parents were either out of the country, or dead.
Still, over the last few days, sight had become a regular one at the house. A small girl, maybe on the cusp of turning four, galloping through the non-public rooms giggling like a banshee and followed after by one Daryl Dixon, red as an apple, yelling at her to "GET BACK HERE AND PUT YOUR DAMN CLOTHES ON!".
After the 20th; Around London, but especially Richmond
It took almost three weeks to get the girl to listen to him and not try to shift in public and to keep her clothes on when she was human. A fair achievement for someone that had the literal attention span of a squirrel. Alert, but not necessarily focused. By then she was nearly attached to him by the hip and Daryl had started to take her out with him on his daily errands and even to work. He did his best to maintain her attention by talking to her in a quiet and constant string of explanations about what things were and what he was doing and that she really shouldn't try to touch that one thing there or put it in her mouth (oh dear lord not the anti-freeze!). Whether he'd intended to or not from the get go, he'd kind of adopted her and would need to put paperwork in soon with the right officials to try and make it, well, official.
That could probably wait until next month, though. For the moment, he was okay with carrying her on his hip or holding her hand and guiding her around while she stared at everything with wide eyes and wonder. Hopefully she'd start talking to him soon. He could only hope she was half understanding him as it was.
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Lucky for her, Daryl had given her plenty to shift the conversation toward. "All the more reason to bring me up to speed. Where'd she come from?"
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That said. "I thought you said her name was Willow."
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NO IDEA HOW THAT COULD HAVE HAPPENEDno subject
Assuming that Natasha got the chance to speak with her. But for now, this was fine.
"So is this how you've been spending your time lately?"
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"Yeah, guess so. It's been a long month," he admitted. Memories of certain dreams he'd had filtered in, but he shook them away and hid the action with his hand tucking some hair behind an ear. Like he'd just been trying to get it out of his eyes. "Actually there was something I wanted to ask ya about... it's about uh... relationships."
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"Relationships?" Her head tilted to one side, curiosity mingled with surprise and perhaps a little skepticism. She hadn't pegged Daryl for one interested in relationships. "You're going to have to be a little more specific."
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"You know... dating. Maybe datin'."
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She focused instead on the other half of the equation. "I guess the place to start is how you feel about them regardless of the flirting. If you're interested because they showed interest, or if you're interested in them as a person."
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"Six of one?" It came out as a question, but it was more that Daryl wasn't entirely sure. People had shown interest in him before, just... never enough to pursue it. "He's pretty interesting, I guess. I don't know a whole lot about him. He don't want his people to be seen as monsters no more. Would rather get along with people. Likes fancy shit. I ain't really fancy..."
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"Sounds like someone I'd get along with," she said rather than try to confirm her suspicion. It didn't really matter if she was right or wrong, and she'd rather nor press Daryl for information he didn't volunteer. Especially not if it made him less likely to talk about his situation. "You might not think you're fancy, but different people might see things differently."
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"Ain't never gonna be fancy. Don't think I wanna, neither. All that hoity-toity shit rich assholes gotta put with just to look right? Fuck that."
He chuckled a bit longer before shaking his head and getting serious again, "He's real good looking and when he looks at me it's... I dunno. Like he's trying to undress me with his eyes at the same time he's looking at me like I'm... like I'me worth something. Worth being with."
Those words came out small. Not because he didn't believe he was worth something. But because it was hard to believe someone else would think the same. Especially in that way. Even as long as he'd been gone from his family back in Georgia and his daddy dead the past few years, he still had trouble with the idea of other people thinking he was worth more than the dirt on his boots.
"Ain't ever had anyone look at me like that," he admitted so softly, if she'd been human, she probably wouldn't have been able to hear it.
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There was more to him than met the eye too.
"Not sure I believe no one's ever done that before. But I'm glad he is now." She leaned a little closer, tipping her head toward him. "So you're interested in seeing where this might go?"
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"But what if it's just a game to him? He's got other people. Pretty sure of it. Way he acts."
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If, on the other hand, it was uncertainty that had him anxious, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to give it a shot.
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"If that's how you feel about it, then I can see why you'd hold back."