Voicetesting; Potential Spoilers in Comments

[sheriffcarl]

No Walkers?

[A moment of quiet contemplation passes as Carl critically considers some question previously posed. Surviving anywhere that doesn't sport a healthy population of flesh eating, undead corpses hardly seems like survival at all. However, that stipulation doesn't come without its own cons to weigh against that one single pro.

He adjusts his hat and lets out a soft grunt.]

Dad might not be around, though. Or the others.

[The young boy — more a man by now, if we're being honest — understands that much. And yet, a moment later, he nods with certainty.]

But...I can do that. I can handle myself. You don't have to worry about me.

Comments

[walkietalkie]

There isn't always no walkers.

[notaghost]

Someone'll always worry. That's not a bad thing, though -- means you've got someone, and that's always nice.

[ She's always got the Doctor worrying about her whether she can handle it or not ]

[unsleeved]

[GET IN THE HOUSE, CARL, WHERE'S YOUR MOTHE--

...Too soon.

Daryl regards Carl critically for a few seconds, looking him over for any obvious signs of injury. Finding none, he relaxes... But only a bit. This place has its own troubles...]

Sometimes they got walkers.

[Still, this place is a little better than Georgia... He supposes. He's ignoring the talk about Rick, about the others; they come and go, but Carl doesn't need to know that just yet.]

How you holdin' up?

[sheriffcarl]

Yeah, I know. [He dips his head a bit.] It's part of the "deal" we're making. [Although, no actual promises have been made.]

Have you seen a lot of them around?

[walkietalkie]

Just one. But... people say he's not really dead. That he can talk.

[sheriffcarl]

[Talk about having something in common. Carl doesn't appreciate all the worry, but he gets it, at least.]

It's just... [He sighs.] They can't control anything that happens to me here. And focusing on that means they're not worrying about survival.

I'll be okay. I know how to take care of myself.

[sheriffcarl]

[RELEVANT GIF IS RELEVENT

Carl shrugs along with his quiet, contemplative "mm." So far, everything seems fine, but he's not exactly that far out of the gate, is he?]

I'm okay. It's not bad, I guess.

[Don't you love how he's become such a (little) man of few words?]

There's a lot more people here. Like it used to be.

[sheriffcarl]

If he can talk, then he really isn't dead. [With authority, because he obviously knows everything ever about walkers.] Walkers can't talk. [He's so certain of it, so sure.]

[unsleeved]

[Perfect gif is perfect.]

Ain't so empty, no. Ain't so bad, neither, dependin'...

[On what the Powers That Be decide to dump them in, of course.]

Got its perks, but you best not count on that lastin'.

[Because the Powers That Be are assholes... Pretty much universally. It's only a matter of time until Carl's thrust into the same shit the rest of them are...

He just hopes it's someplace he can watch out for him. Rick'd wanna know he was being looked after.]

lettuce voicetest together

[tirelessly]

Carl.

[Maggie smiles warmly, but there's a weariness in her eyes.]

It's good to see you again.

[sheriffcarl]

[Rick'd be mighty obliged by that, I imagine. In the meantime, Carl's got other things to consider.]

We're pretty used to doing without, anyway.

[But there is a sense of disappointment there.]

Where's your camp?

Yes, goooood!

[sheriffcarl]

[By now, that hollow look is so recognizable among their group, it registers as normal. Now, if it was missing, then he might take notice.]

Hey, Maggie. Your stuck, too? Is anyone else with you?

:D

[tirelessly]

No. I'm on my own.

[Which sucks to be honest. Seeing Carl has been a welcome relief.]

Until now, I guess. You doin' okay?

[sheriffcarl]

Yeah, I am.

[That relief isn't just reserved for Maggie; Carl's glad for the familiar face(s) around here, even if he's sure that means the walkers are certain to follow.]

Are you?

[nomorekidstuff]

You can handle more than most.

[sheriffcarl]

[A slow nod. Considering who that's coming from, it'd be ridiculous to take it as anything but faith and confidence.]

What about you?

[Said not-so-tentatively. Carl has concerns.]

[shouldered]

It's still dangerous, Carl. [ DON'T MIND YOUR OL' CONCERNED POP, KID ] Depends where you go.

[sheriffcarl]

[Oh my god, it's a double-down of Ricks. Carl scratches under his hat and screws his lips into a pucker for a second. And then a nod, because he can't exactly argue, can he?]

You taught me how to be careful, remember? [Just a little smirk here.]

What's it depend on? People? [...] It always comes back to people.

[unsleeved]

[That they are..... Sucks.]

Mm.

[He frowns at the question, just slightly.]

Place I'm at ain't exactly nearby but it ain't far...

[He'd love to give more than that- just like he'd love to take Carl back with him, Carl and the rest of his people- but as with most important things, that ain't his call.]

[sheriffcarl]

[It is a suspicious lack of detail, but that's just Daryl's way, right? It's not personal, as far as Carl can tell.]

Are you alone?

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland does not want to be here. He does not want to say anything. This young man just makes him long for Jake. Especially given his mun's excitement and...

The Clint Eastwood looking cowboy lowers his gaze.]


It seems to be in their nature to worry. [long beat] You are kind to try and ease their pain.

[sheriffcarl]

[He doesn't recognize this guy, but he gets the look. It's not hard to guess that loss is a pretty heavy theme around these parts. Carl smiles slightly, like he's aiming for easement.]

They've got enough to worry about. We all do.

[thelastgunslinger]

It seems to be their nature t'be Ka-mais. Prisoners to the concept that there are other worlds then theirs. [Ours. His.]

Thinking of that I suppose it's easy to at least sympathize with them. Mr....

[He might get your look too Carl. Probably why he's just going to refer to you as a man.]

[sheriffcarl]

[He almost isn't sure how to answer, first name or last name (or both), but then it all sort of clicks into place and he touches his hat in greeting.]

Grimes. You?

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland dips his own hat in return with what amounts to a warm smile for him.] Long life for your crop Mr. Grimes.

[That last part is a puzzle. Roland has to think, most people just called him gunslinger - those guns on his hips were rare. But this boy had an air about him that reminded him of Gilead in it's old days and so.]

Roland of Gilead. [The slightest hint of unease] ...That is the correct greeting for this world yes?