A mild inquiry. Daryl isn't sure where he stands— it's barbaric because the world is the way it is, it's merciful because the alternative is prolonged captivity or execution, it's incredibly dangerous because they're cutting loose people who are armed with information about them who now might want revenge for being expelled. Interesting, and not a moral or strategic question he's in a hurry to have to decide. For a little while in their last home, he'd been voted on the council that made decisions for the community, but they hadn't ever come up on an issue like that. If it hadn't been lost, he figures they would have eventually, though he still doesn't know what he might do.
However Reid answers, Daryl won't have much input. He listens, he observes him, but there's not much he's going to contribute to the topic. Doing his own kind of investigation, not at all like a profiler. Just poking him with a stick and then walling himself off against any return pokes.
Returning to the gates is funny for a second, when he feels like a wild animal dragging a wayward cub back in, and then everything after that second is uncomfortable. He murmurs a 'see you around' to Reid before he oils away to post up with his group in their temporary housing, dodging any attempts to thank him for running a fest quest. He keeps to himself for the next few days, resisting integration, and the data from his arrival interview marks him as a bit of a mystery. No clear answer about what he did before, and possessing skills that do not lend himself to easy living in synthesized suburbia.
A rare public sighting puts him on the porch of their assigned townhome, smoking a cigarette and sharpening a hunting knife, technically babysitting. He makes sure to exhale away from the infant girl, who is otherwise happy to be crawling around in her new soft playpen.
no subject
A mild inquiry. Daryl isn't sure where he stands— it's barbaric because the world is the way it is, it's merciful because the alternative is prolonged captivity or execution, it's incredibly dangerous because they're cutting loose people who are armed with information about them who now might want revenge for being expelled. Interesting, and not a moral or strategic question he's in a hurry to have to decide. For a little while in their last home, he'd been voted on the council that made decisions for the community, but they hadn't ever come up on an issue like that. If it hadn't been lost, he figures they would have eventually, though he still doesn't know what he might do.
However Reid answers, Daryl won't have much input. He listens, he observes him, but there's not much he's going to contribute to the topic. Doing his own kind of investigation, not at all like a profiler. Just poking him with a stick and then walling himself off against any return pokes.
Returning to the gates is funny for a second, when he feels like a wild animal dragging a wayward cub back in, and then everything after that second is uncomfortable. He murmurs a 'see you around' to Reid before he oils away to post up with his group in their temporary housing, dodging any attempts to thank him for running a fest quest. He keeps to himself for the next few days, resisting integration, and the data from his arrival interview marks him as a bit of a mystery. No clear answer about what he did before, and possessing skills that do not lend himself to easy living in synthesized suburbia.
A rare public sighting puts him on the porch of their assigned townhome, smoking a cigarette and sharpening a hunting knife, technically babysitting. He makes sure to exhale away from the infant girl, who is otherwise happy to be crawling around in her new soft playpen.