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JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME
You awaken to godawful static overlaying a female voice that's too monotone to be anything but a recording. The static makes it difficult to understand the warning, but it's clearly a warning if your surroundings tell you anything...
You're buckled into a sturdy seat bolted to the wall behind you. Around you, there are dozens of others like you, some awake and others still unconscious, but it seems most of the seats lining the walls are occupied. The lights are dim, likely auxiliary lighting, leaving you mostly in the dark. You smell smoke and hear the sizzling crackle of electrical systems popping and shorting out. Some of the seats were jarred off the wall, leaving the occupants either wounded or dead. Count yourself lucky all you have is a headache and various aches accounted to whiplash.
You appear to be in a drop ship or an escape vessel of some form but the pilot is dead and the hull bears a massive gash where it buckled under the impact and sheered off. Through the door-sized opening, you can see vegetation. The air that wafts in is heavy with a humid heat, but it's obviously breathable.
Once you make your way outside, you'll see greenery: Trees, grass, and shrubs tangled with vines that grow wildly and suffocate the trees they climb. In the distance, behind the ship, you can make out a sandy desert that seems to stretch on endlessly. Forward through the trees, however, you may see a crumbling wall, but more importantly, you'll see signs of civilisation. Buildings and other structures seem contained within those decrepit walls. Maybe the natives can fill you in on what's going on, because the last thing you remember isn't being in an escape shuttle. As a matter of fact, you don't remember much about your arrival or where you are. But it's going to be a bit of a hike, better get moving. Though you might want to grab the backpack of supplies under your seat before you go.
With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.
daryl just looking stoic but internally like 'best day ever' with a belt full of knives
Though if what he said was true about these... undead biting and scratching her way of defense probably wouldn't be the most effective. She might have to brush up on her own knife skills after all.
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"But I know what I'm doing," Daryl continued, tone noticeably less annoyed than it had been. The safety the promise of a knife at his fingertips provided should an attack come did a lot for his mood. "You should learn. Not today. Not enough time 'fore night hits. But soon."
sorry about the delay! life and school caught up to me
"I'd like to learn, definitely," even if she has no intentions to since she isn't about to waste anyone's time that could be better spent. There were a lot bigger things to worry about than teaching her how to most effectively wield a knife. "It'd be a total bummer to survive this crash only to be taken out by something I could easily slash and or stab."
No problem!
He couldn't quite tell if she had meant that comment to sound dismissive and sarcastic, or if it was meant to be genuine and she was just distracted by what she was doing.
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"Is it easy for you?" she asks, glancing at him from where she's working.
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"Welp! I've found what I can. A lot of water, dried food, and survival junk like, uh, rope and whatnot. Probably should start divvying it up or... whatever is best."
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"Roger that!" she replies while beginning to stock up. "What are you going to do? Probably not a good idea to stick around here too much longer." Cue a conveniently timed groan from the hull of the ship with a flicker of dim lighting for extra effect. Hm, yes, it really sets the "we're all doomed" mood she has to say.
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"Got some things to take care of," he answered as he moved a few steps to stand between her and the pile of supplies he'd be grabbing for himself and his group. Just to make sure she didn't try to take from it as she got her own together. "I'll leave when I need to."