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INTRO LOG #03

Dropship

The new dropship touches down during the evening when the sky is beginning to get dark. It lands further out than usual, where the greenery and trees taper off into the desert sand. The most surprising thing about the ship's landing is that it does - in fact - land in one piece. It leaves the same crater beneath it as the others have, but there is no sheared metal or bent in portions of the ship to show that something has gone awry. There is simply the ship, groaning as it cools from its re-entry into the atmosphere. Despite the best landing so far, the power has failed aside from flashing alarm lights and an annoying warning sounding off every couple seconds.

The shock doesn't end there, the mysterious voice that Han Solo had contacted kept his... promise... instead of packages of trail mix there are boxes and boxes of cheese. On the foremost box is a note and written on it: "HAVE A LITTLE CHEESE WITH YOUR WHINE." Next to the boxes of cheese are stacks and stacks of canned spam. Delicious.

There is only a single person on the dropship but he is supplied with the typical backpack. What's different is the .22 tucked safely inside next to a box of bullets. Inside the box of bullets there is an additional note, in different handwriting: "broadcast your needs." Cryptic but promising to anyone that knows what's going on. Someone was feeling merciful apparently.

The Welcome Party

All possible exits to the ship are closed, and if Carl feel like he's strong enough he can try to pry one of the doors open, but someone seems to get the same idea. Suddenly something is wedged between the door and where it lies before it's wrenched with a twisting metal noise. Then another crowbar is wedged far enough in to cause a gap that's quickly filled with a hook. Then another, and another. The same process. It takes a long time, but then the revving of an engine, a far too pleased yell and the door is yanked from its home.

Confetti pops and sounds, falling from a small space near the top of the door - another mockery from the man who left the harsher note, no doubt - that distracts the sudden strangers that are poking their heads into the ship, and staring up like they've been shown the light through their masks. The hatchets in their hands make it clear they're not there for hugs.

Besides the bandits, the drop-zone around the ship is completely silent, not a single infected in sight. It's like they're all busy with something else.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's been hard on her, having so many people from home show up here. She cares about all of them, but after Daryl and Glenn's reactions to her being alive and here she doesn't want to upset anyone else. So she tries to keep to herself as much as possible, staying busy so she doesn't wind up looking pathetic and stupid. If she wants Daryl and the others to believe she's strong, she needs to prove it.

So she finds herself chores to do every day and sticks to doing them, collapsing in an exhausted heap late at night to avoid having too much quiet time to think and make herself sad. She's in the middle of cleaning out a portion of the warehouse when she hears him approaching, but stays focused on working so she doesn't get herself involved in a conversation where she ends up feeling broken.

But then Carl approaches her, and she's surprised by it. Still holding onto some old papers, she lifts her head to look up at him, caution written all over her face.]

Carl, hey.

[Unsure of what to do with the papers in her hands, she turns for a moment to find somewhere to set them.]

You settling in okay?

[He's settling in well enough given that it isn't new to him, he thinks, and so he nods to her. Though this whole thing with trying to talk to her is still a bit awkward so there's a delay between that nod and his own response.]

... Yeah.

[He approaches just a little bit more before stopping when she looks at him, pocketing his hands in jeans as if to firmly plant himself in place then turn the other way out of nervousness. There's so many other words and ways he can describe this situation too.]

What about you? You okay? [~~...with being alive and not being dead and all.~~] With settling in.

Yeah.

[She echoes his answer, right down to the awkward pause and hesitation. It's not that she doesn't want to talk to him, she very much so does. It's that she isn't sure what to say to someone who thinks she's dead and has gone through the effort of burying and mourning her. It almost feels cruel to know that and be talking to him so casually.

At least with him in closer, she's able to look him over. He's the same Carl she remembers, but he carries himself a little more maturely. Knowing he does good for himself makes her smile, and she relaxes a little.]

You've gotten taller.

[And just like that, it's exactly how things used to be. She smiles more warmly and laughs, taking a step in closer to him. She doesn't want him to run away, so she needs to ease him into the fact that she's real and not a danger to him.]

[He is a little older and a little taller, and that she even points it out embarrass him a little. It also reminds him she's not, that she's the same as he remembers, and that's like a punch in his gut because he kind of feels responsible for not being able to do anything about her death. That's just the tip of the iceberg of everything he feels.

So he pauses again a little, before bobbing his head.]

You think? ...uh, you're probably right.

[The random conversation works for him, though. He doesn't mind her stepping closer to him, but isn't comfortable just yet to either smile at her or to talk about anything more.]

[This is so painfully awkward that she wishes he would get mad at her like Daryl did. Him being angry at her has to be easier than trying to act like she doesn't realize he doesn't want to look at her, because every time he does, he just sees a walking dead girl. ]

Well, you're taller than me now.

[Not that it's particularly a hard thing to do, given she's not all that tall. But she can tell that even talking about his height bothers him a little, so she shoves both of her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and turns away to go over and look out the nearby window. It might be easier on him if he doesn't have to look at her face.]

Have you gotten to go out and explore the city any since you've been here?

[Doesn't he know it. They're talking about his height of all things. They used to have better things to talk about even if it wasn't much. Off the top of his head, for instance: food, shelter, a deck of cards they found once, you name it. Anything is better.

So a part of him is thankful she switches the subject to something relatable, while the other part takes notice of her head turning away and frowns inwardly and as well as outwardly at himself. Sure this was all levels of awkward, but he didn't mean to make her feel self-conscious. He was trying to make this less weird for the both of them, after all.

So of course that and what she asks him gives him an idea.]

Some, but not a whole lot. I didn't wanna go too far without anyone, you know... How much did you explore?

[Maybe they can explore together if he can just get the words out, sooner or later.]

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