Here it is. It’s mostly Degrassi stuff but there’s other fandoms on there like Teen Wolf and The Walking Dead, too.
Stiles stumbled backward on his hands and feet to get away from the sudden disappearance of weight from his lithe frame. He only was stopped when he collided with an abandoned car. His mind raced to grasp the idea of how close he had came from death. It hadn’t help that the man that had pulled the Walker from him looked as if someone opened a hunting magazine and he walked right out of it. Vaguely Stiles’ mind flashed to films like Deliverance — and that was not where he wanted to take that line of thought while he attempted to catch his breath. Suddenly, that went away as he was reminded of one Derek Hale. Daryl could have been a lost cousin with how he glared at him. Except, Derek would not have asked if he were fine. Though, in these end of the world days, when someone asked a question like that — they never meant if you were mentally fine or if you were injured. More often than not they only meant one thing: were you bit. “N-No, I mean - yeah, I’m fine I think,” Stiles stuttered. To make sure he started to check himself for bites. First at the neck and then on other places where the Walker could have attacked; there were no marks. Cuts and abrasions but nothing serious.
The car that had stopped him was now used for leverage to pick himself up and stumble toward where his baseball bat had been abandoned. He had retrieved it as the man produced a knife - at first Stiles raised the bat fast to defend himself until he released that the stranger held the knife out to him. Slowly, the bat was learned as he skittishly reached out and snatched the blade from the man and backed away again. “T-Uh, yeah, thanks,” Stiles muttered. The bat was learned to his side but the knife was held more in a defensive manner and Stiles made sure that there was a bit of a distance between them. He saw the movies where stupid heros would get gutted the moment their guard was down and it wasn’t something Stiles would let happen. Not after he had lived through so much. Vaguely, he wanted to tell this stranger that his name was California and start a motif to Zombieworld but Daryl didn’t look the type to take things in the more humourous of manners. Instead, he stuck to the facts.
"I’m alone, I have no food and all I have is this bat. Unless you’re a cannibal, then I guess you can say I have a day worth of meat on my bones — maybe three if you turned me into jerky." Stiles swallowed thickly, as he stood there in the heat of midday and watched Daryl with his eyes squinted to the sunlight. "Unless you’re not like any of those people who like to go hog wild at the end of the world and you have more of the Mad Max flavor — then my name is Stiles and I’m seventeen. I enjoy long walks under the moonlight and curly fries. And I’m housebroken. Well, nearly housebroken. I’m a big fluffy corgi really but I pee on everything you love, I think I should shut up now." Sometimes, Stiles talked when he was nervous, but he figured that was very clear now.
Daryl watched as the kid examined himself for bite marks. After seeing that the kid was okay and once he took the knife from Daryl - the man decided to make sure he wasn’t going to turn on him. He kept a safe distance, though by that point he was convinced that the boy wouldn’t hurt him. He was so scrawny and small that Daryl could easily take this kid - even if he didn’t want to harm him. As the hunter stopped glaring at the small teenager, he relaxed a little and allowed his demeanor to be more calm to show he wasn’t about to hurt him. Listening to him talk about long walks on the beach and curly fries made Daryl smile; even if he didn’t necessarily want to. At least the guy had a sense of humor. “Mmhm. Well, okay, Stiles. I’m Daryl Dixon, I’m more like a German shepherd myself. Can be tough when I need to; but usually I’m only trying to do good and protect those I care about. I guess I could help you out though. If you’re willin’ to trust me, that is.” Daryl explained, he couldn’t believe he just compared himself to a dog but if he had to be like one - a German shepherd or possibly a Pit Bull would be the best examples to compare himself to. Though his reputation wasn’t as bad anymore, so pit bull was out of the question for the time being.
"M’ not a cannibal or anythin’ of that sort but I do have plenty of food and shelter if you’ll come with me," Daryl added. Mostly he needed a companion to be around at that point because he was sick of being on his own. And part of him wanted to keep on the search for his old group - where this new kid would fit in perfectly. "Help me find my old group and I’ll introduce you to this girl I know named Beth. She’d like you, I’m sure." Daryl promised, hoping that it would convince the kid to help him out and keep him company so he wouldn’t go insane from being alone twenty-four seven.
"What d’ya say, kid?"
You are so sweet! <3
Thank you, Rick!
My theme is all sorts of messed up right now. Fixing it so replies will be slow for the next few minutes. Sorry!
[ OOC: Send me a message off anon and maybe we can work something out. ]