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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

Gonna have to make a couple trips, but yeah.

[Daryl reached over and slightly smushed Carl's hat against his head. Sure it probably came across like him treating the kid like he was a lot younger, but mostly it was Daryl just affirming that Carl was real. That he had another member of his family there to protect.]

Glad to see you.

Even with all of us? Or...the others you spoke of.

[He was about to turn and look back quizzically at the food supply to try get a count how many of them it would it take, but that's when his hat is smushed in front of his eyesight a little. He knows it's a friendly and harmless gesture so he doesn't take personally, but that doesn't mean he won't complain with a-]

Hey! [His hands fly up to straighten the hat up without a thought, but then he kind of huffs with a laugh at the last thing Daryl says. He gets it now.] Yeah. Glad to see you, too.

Yeah. There's only about fifteen of us, counting you.

[He snorted in a rare chance at amusement to Carl's protest. Made the trip out to the ship worth it.]

Come on, let's get this done.

Only fifteen?

[Whoa. He wasn't expecting such a large number, even including himself and Carol, Glenn, and Maggie. He moves though to continue packing whatever he can.]

'Kay. Moving on it.

[Seems to make sense to switch between grabbing cheese and spam, until his backpack is full.]

[Intro Log #3] SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM.

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