Daphne sat on a bench outside of a massive compound with seven men, watching lackeys chaining up walkers to the fence before her.
During her ride in the back of Simon's truck, she'd conversed with one of his guys. She got the impression he was a bit of a douchebag, but he was chatty and she wanted a lay of the land she was heading to.
He'd proclaimed Negan 'the provider', saying that they were called the Saviors because their leader literally saved people. They had a huge community and though it was a dictatorship, it kept everyone safe and fed and healthy.
"We're all Negan," he'd said with pride, and Daphne found her interest even more piqued than before. This man seemed larger than life. He was a ruthless dictator from what she could tell, and had acquired some serious power for himself. She could help but admire that.
The men sitting along the bench all looked desolate and miserable, and Daphne wondered where they'd come from. Simon had called them recruits, but she wondered if they'd been forcibly removed from somewhere.
A tough looking guy with a grotesque burn on one side of his face strode towards the group and frowned. With his strawberry locks, he might have been handsome under that melted skin.
"Alright, grunts," he said in a raspy voice, and Daphne was pretty certain he wasn't Negan. She imagined the man with a smile and a swagger. She stood up and extended her hand.
"Hi," she said brightly, "I'm Daphne."
He paused, taken aback, and then brushed past her. She lowered her hand with a scowl. Rude.
He stood before them, eyeing up the group of men who now looked like kicked puppies. Daphne sat back down with a small noise of dissatisfaction.
"We have a two week probation here at the Sanctuary," Scarface said, starting to pace back and forth. "You keep your head down, follow the rules, assimilate into society. Then you get an interview, and you're either in and we assign you a job, or you're not." He didn't need to add any more to that sentence for the recruits to understand that failing the probation meant unpleasantness.
"Just kill me now." The man beside Daphne murmured, and she gaped at him.
"You're not even going to try?" she asked, not unkindly. A tear slipped down the man's face and he avoided her gaze. "They must have done a number on you."
"We can break you the hard way if that's what you want." Scarface stepped closer. The smell of cigarettes wafted off of him and Daphne breathed deeply, hoping she could score some here.
"No, he's fine!" another man piped up. "We'll be good."
"Will you?" Scarface leaned down to eye level with the first man. "Will you be good?" The man didn't reply, and his captor dragged him off of the bench by his hair. "The hard way, then."