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 Daryl Dixon [The Walking Dead]

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Daryl Dixon
The Walking Dead

Posts : 273
Join date : 2016-03-27
Location : The wilds of Atlanta.

PostSubject: Daryl Dixon [The Walking Dead]   Mon Apr 04, 2016 7:53 pm

Name: Daryl Dixon
Nickname: Durrral (by those that cannot say his name without a Southern drawl.) 'Pookie' (Thanks Carol :/) Badass.

Age: 40 (Born Jan. 6th 1975)
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 175 lbs
Eye color: Blue
Nationality: American (Southerner)
Allience: Good.
Family:  Parents (deceased) Brother (Merle)

:::~Physical Appearance~:::

Standing at roughly 5'10" and weighing around 175, Daryl wouldn't seem like much of a wrecking ball, but dynamite often comes in small packages and packs a deadly punch. He is moderately muscular with shaggy , often dirty brown hair that curtains his face. His skin is usually dirty or speared with grease, blood, or other questionable substances. There is little time for upkeep and good hygiene in the zombie apocalypse. Despite his rugged appearance, Daryl has blue eyes that's hard not to get lost in. His body is scarred from survival and an abusive father during his younger years. Thick scars adorn his back, inflicted by his father's wrath. Being insecure about them, he rarely removes his shirt.

Daryl's attire of choice is a pair of ripped and dirty jeans, wife beaters or button up shirts (whatever he can scavenge to wear) and a black vest with a pair of angel wings on the back. He wears a pair of combat boots, perfect for kicking in the skulls of the dead and rotting.... and those still living but stupid enough to make attempts against his life or those of his loved ones.    

:::~Personality and Abilities~:::

For the most part, Daryl is stand-offish and untrusting at first, but deep down longs to be a part of something. Usually quiet and soft spoken, but  can shift to full fledge psycho redneck if pushed too far. He is extremely loyal to those that earn his friendship and love, and would die for those he holds dear. His survival instinct may make him appear rugged, but he possesses a genuine heart and is selfless, putting the needs of others before his own. He's incredibly honest to the point of being blunt, seeing no reason to lie or sugar coat anything. He is much more clever than he looks, even more so than his erratic brother, Merle. Although he is not as tough as his brother, who is an experienced bruiser and has military experience, Daryl is just as aggressive and agile and can hold his own against the dead and the living. In addition, Daryl has a keen sense of intuition, especially when it comes to meeting new people. Like his group mate Michonne, Daryl can tell almost immediately who can be trusted and who cannot.

Daryl is strong both emotionally and physically, traits developed from an early age. He has withstood both physical and emotional abuse during his upbringing. Still, he feels deeply even when it isn't expressed. He loves fiercely, and has shown his vulnerable side when losing a loved one.

Daryl is a survivor and avid hunter. Growing up with little resources and parents that cared little about him, he adapted to living off the land. He could shoot and gut a deer before most kids lost their training wheels. He is talented in archery and can hit a target from seemingly impossible distances. These abilities have been crucial in surviving in this harsh new environment where food is scarce, and walkers are coming at you. His weapon of choice is his crossbow which is usually always thrown across his shoulder. His ability to track has also came in handy whenever a member of the group goes missing. He is also an expert at navigation and observation.

While the crossbow is his weapon of choice, Daryl is well versed in most weaponry. He can hit a target between the eyes with a firearm, or stab into the skull of the undead with the greatest of ease. He is resourceful and being a hunter, a master of stealth. He isn't afraid to get his hands dirty, or bloody, whichever any given situation calls for.    

In a nutshell, Daryl is a soft person that would make an amazing friend, or one hell of an enemy!    


Daryl lived within the mountains of North Georgia in a stereotypical redneck house under the watch of his neglectful parents, and older brother Merle. Their father was an abusive alcoholic, along with their mother, who was also a chain-smoker. Daryl grew up alongside several degenerates and was taught how to hunt and camp by his father, whom he viewed as a 'dumb-ass'. Daryl also claims to have never set foot out of Georgia.

By the time Daryl was old enough to ride a bicycle, the brothers lost their mother to a house fire that had been caused by a cigarette while she was asleep (or possibly drunk). Merle was at least twelve years old when his mother died, as he was in juvenile detention at the time. At one point after their mother's death roughly before the age of 12, Daryl found himself lost in the woods for 9 full days where he lived off of wild berries and utilized poison oak as substitute for toilet paper. Merle was again in juvenile detention, which would have made Merle no older than nineteen years old. When Daryl managed to find his way home, (his father had not noticed his absence) Daryl walked in through the back door and made himself a sandwich.

His brother was the only inspirational figure that he had growing up. Merle raised him to share his views on society, as well as how to be tough like a grown man. However, he, too, was often absent from Daryl's life, partly due to the fact that he was frequently in juvenile institutions, which lead to Daryl having to frequently fend for himself. Both Daryl and Merle were physically and mentally abused by their father as evidenced by Daryl's back showing multiple visible scars. Their father's abuse caused Merle to abandon the family and subsequently join the military. Merle claimed to have never known of Daryl's inflicted abuse; however, Daryl did not believe him.

In the following years, Daryl was a drifter, constantly following Merle and doing whatever he said, thus viewing himself as 'nobody nothing some redneck asshole... even bigger asshole for a brother'. Merle used his military background to teach Daryl how to use weapons and firearms. During this time, Daryl acquired a vast set of survival skills, and thus he became a skilled hunter, tracker, and combatant like his brother. He also became a skilled motorcyclist, given his knowledge of mechanics and ability to construct his own working motorcycle out of spare parts.

Daryl suffered from a near death experience when he had once stayed at Merle's drug supplier's house. The trio watched TV, and by noon, they became intoxicated. After a discussion had turned violent, the dealer punched Merle, causing Daryl to savagely beat the man. The dealer then threatened to shoot Daryl, and a large argument ensued, which ended with the dealer punching Daryl in the gut, causing him to vomit. Merle and the dealer laughed the incident off.  

When the apocalypse began, he and Merle headed towards Atlanta (a declared safe-zone) for shelter. Along the way, they both met up with Shane's group and found out Atlanta was overrun. They helped set up camp near a quarry. During their stay at the camp, they spent a considerable amount of time hunting animals. According to Merle, they had planned to rob the camp blind before Merle was left in Atlanta.
Daryl owned a grey 1973 Ford F-250 pickup truck. He used it to transport the corpses of the fallen camp-survivors, such as Ed Peletier and Amy, to the graveyard made by Jim. When the group left for the CDC, Daryl was driving his truck with his brother's motorcycle in the back. When his truck ran out of gas, he put his belongings in one of the other vehicles, (possibly Dale Horvath's RV) and switched vehicles to his brother's motorcycle. His truck was then abandoned and is never seen. The motorcycle became his means of transport.

Once again, Merle goes missing from Daryl's life when he is left handcuffed to the rooftop after a conflict back in the city. Along with rich and a group, Daryl went to rescue his brother, but only found his severed hand. Merle had cut it off to escape the zombie hoard. Daryl spent the passing months searching for his brother, and soon found him when he was taken to Woodburry, where he was pitted against Merle in a fight to the death. The pair escaped with the help of Rick and group, and due to circumstances and Merle beating up Glenn, he was not a welcomed addition to the group. Not wanting to abandon his brother, Daryl heads off with Merle but the pair return to the prison in time to prevent Rick from being killed. This earns Merle permission to stay within the prison, but the group remain cautious of him.

Soon after Rick has a meeting with the Governor, who requests that he hand over Michonne and in exchange, he will not attack the prison. Hearing of the deal, Merle takes matters into his own hands and takes Michonne, determined to make the deal because he feels the others are too soft. During their trek to the Governor, Merle has a change of heart and releases Michonne, deciding to take on the Governor and his men by himself. Unfortunately Merle was killed during the attack and Daryl was the one to find him and was forced to put his own brother down. The loss devastated him, but he overcome it with the support of the group.

Soon after, the Governor and his men attacked the prison, killing Hershel Greene in front of his children. Wounded and broken, Daryl escaped with Beth Greene, Hershel's youngest daughter. He had a soft spot for the girl and protected her, but once again misfortune struck and Beth was taken by another group. Daryl searched for her and met up with a group of roughnecks. He became part of their team, but his membership was short-lived when the group crossed paths with Rick and the leader tried to kill him.

Once again reunited with his group, Daryl and company searched endlessly for Beth. Eventually they were tipped off by a young man named Noah, who led them to where Beth was being kept. The rescue mission turned tragic, and Daryl watched in horror as Beth was shot in the head.

After escaping Terminus which was ran by a group of cannibals,  the group happened upon a little isolated town called Alexandria. There members took on different roles, and Daryl was given the role as 'recruiter' along with Aaron. His job was to go out and bring back survivors, but his feelings changed after having a run in with Dwight and a group from Negan's group called  'The Saviors'. Dwight stole his bike and crossbow, which were later retrieved. Another run in with Dwight ended in bloodshed and Daryl was shot in the shoulder and taken hostage. He is placed in the line up by Negan, who plays 'Eeny Meeny Miny Moe' to select a victim to feel 'Lucille's' wrath......


* Motercycles
* Crossbow
* Squirrel and Deer jerky
* Booze
* Food in general. Given their circumstances, he ain't picky!
* Hunting- there's something very calming about being surrounded by nothing but nature.
* Carol Peletier (His best friend and the person he seeks advice from)
* Dogs. He would love to have one.
* Shooting Walkers with his cross bow (funfun)


* Rick's music ( Dude seriously has questionable taste)
* Social gatherings.
* People who steal his bike.
* People who think about stealing his bike.
* People who look like they'll steal his bike.
* Losing his arrows.
* People who deem him stupid for being a redneck.
* The Governor
* Terminus
* Negan and his group

:::~Sample Post~:::

A week after the outbreak...

Daryl was still in disbelief. A firm believer of 'creatures of the forest' such as Bigfoot and the Chupacabra, flesh eating zombies was a little hard to swallow. He remembered telling Merle about his first encounter, about how a crazed group of undead tried to make redneck meat of him, and he had barely escaped with his life. Having been 'humored' by his little brother's ridiculous 'encounters' during his earlier years, and being a realist, Merle simply laughed it off. Of course, his tune changed after his own personal run in and near death experience.

The brothers had fled from their safe house, making their way towards the outskirts of the city, destined for the wilds of Atlanta. The hadn't made it far before being trapped in an old abandoned building, now surrounded by the undead. This was great. No way out with only his brooding brother's company. Fun. He sat quietly in the corner of the room, hunkered down in a darkened corner as he worked at cleaning the gore from each of his arrows, using his trusty red dew rag.

"We gotta keep movin', little brother. This place ain't gonna hold up long..." Merle instructed for the millionth time. The moans of the undead could be heard just outside the boarded windows as the creatures clawed and pushed against the questionable barricades.

"I know. But we go out there, we're dead. This place is surrounded.." Daryl reminded his impatient brother. Hell, he was anxious to get out of this death box too, but dying was not on his agenda for the day.

A frustrated sigh and Merle punched the wall, anger and hunger getting the best of him. Man, what he wouldn't do for some squirrel on a stick right about now. "You got anymore of them bark bars?" The older brother asked, referring to a box of granola bars Daryl had managed to snag from a looted out general store.

"Granola..." Daryl corrected, agreeing to an extent with his brother. They taste like shit, much like bark. Bland and unpleasant, but at least it was a form of nourishment.

"Man, you know you sound like one of those uppity faggots when you say that, you know?"

Being used to the verbal insults, Daryl just shrugged it off as he dug through his bag, finding the last of the bars. He himself was starving, but knew his brother had used up a lot of energy pacing about and cursing like a lunatic. "Whatever.." He spouted off and tossed the bar at his brother, who caught it with ease.

Merle tore into it like a poor man starving, spitting out the bit of plastic wrapper before savoring the chewy, tasteless snack. He noticed his brother's distant stare as he resumed working on polishing his weapon.

"I'm glad that motherfucker died, you know...I had to leave, otherwise I woulda killed 'im myself..." Merle randomly said, referring to their abusive father. He was 'fishing' in his own way, hoping his little brother would open up about whatever happened while he was away. Just like all the times before, Daryl remained tight lipped, but it was evident that the topic upset him. It was frustrating to Merle, but he wouldn't pry too deeply.

"You know I had to leave.." And there was a hint of sympathy in his voice. Because he had felt bad about leaving Daryl behind, but was unaware that during his absence, Daryl had received his end of the abuse...

A silence fell between them and Daryl finally looked up, meeting his brother's gaze... "... and I needed  you. When mom died, I had to go through that alone... do you know what that was like?!" Lip quivering with emotion but he refused to cry. Not now, not in front of his brother that would no doubt make open sport of his emotional weakness. But how alone he had felt, coming home to watch his house burning to the ground.. his mother trapped inside. Burning alive. He had tried to go in after her, but had been pulled away by the neighbors.

A deep, sympathetic sigh, because Merle had never been good at expressing sympathy any other way, but it managed to convey in his coming words.. "Look little brother, I'm sorr...." And before the words could pass his lips, the door finally gave way, and in poured the hoard that had been trying so desperately to make their way in, craving the taste of human flesh. It was time to fight, time to run... time to wonder if this would be t heir last moment on earth......
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