“Look, Zeus is a deadbeat. Don’t rely on him for anything.”

[Deamon]

((California Fox continued from It’s Lights Out, And Away They Go!))

California looked out from under the hood of her jacket at the collection of buildings before her. Based on their construction she guessed they were a part of the research station that she’d seen on her map.

She hadn’t intended to end up at the station. In truth she hadn’t intended to end up anywhere. Her focus had been more on finding people or being found, which she had thought—naïvely she now realised—would have been easy. Forgetting entirely that there would have been many people who did not want to be found. One of whom she assumed was Kitty, but she had been at least hoping to find Kai or Salem at some point. Again though, naïve given the circumstances.

That said, although she hadn’t intended to go to the research station the idea of shelter appealed to her at that moment. The cold and the wind had started to sting and her fingers and face and her body ached from the walk.

She looked out at the buildings assembled before her, taking in their locations and sizes before settling on the smallest one that was set furthest away from the others. A small, ground floor only building with what looked to be antenna’s on the roof.

California approached and carefully traced a path around the perimeter of the building with her steps, listening out in case of any presence inside. She didn’t want to walk in and say something stupid that angered someone like with Meena, even though she still didn’t understand what she’d said or done wrong.

When no voices were discernible she approached and tried the door, finding it open. She stepped inside to be greeted by a pair of antlers left abandoned in the room. It was also darker inside than she had expected, a glance at the window confirmed it was due to the snow buildup.

She pulled her hood down and took her hat off, absentmindedly kicking the door closed behind her and nudging the antlers aside. Shaking her head and hair out. She was tired, her back hurt and her legs hurt. They had started aching as she been walking but as she had been in the middle of the forest she’d ignored it. Not wanting to stop in the middle of nowhere, now that decision seemed incredibly stupid.

She took a couple of slices of bread out of her bag along with her map, then set the bag down on the floor by the far wall and sat down, legs straightened out and using the bag as a back support. She grimaced and winced but it was better than nothing. Once she was settled she turned her attention to her map and began nibbling at her bread.

On her walk she had come to terms with the fact that there was no way of knowing where anyone was. So she looked at the maps and the locations, trying to figure out where they could have been. Not realising the door had been left slightly ajar.

[D/N]

(Fey Zelenka-Morrison continued from Athenry and Killeshandra)

Fey was huffing a bit by the time she got back.

And yeah, now it was really getting dark. Got darker the norther you got, right? Fuck, for all she knew it was only like 3:00. She should've worn a watch.

And gloves.

And a hat.

Well at the very least who the fuck wears watches these days anyways?

Her arms were filled with a bunch of random branches and some leaves and twigs and stuff, some of which had fluttered down on her hike back, leaving a breadcrumbs trail in case anyone felt like following. But that would've been fine.

'Cause now that Fey was coming back to civilization, she felt back, baybee girl. She was gonna stroll right in there and keep a fire going for the night to keep nice and toasty and maybe tomorrow everything would be dandy. No kills. Big rescue. Whatever.

That was a good thing to think about.

The door was ajar.

"Yiiiieeeee...." she muttered.

Hey, at least she wasn't screaming it anymore.

Was that Calvin in there?

"Calvin, that you? If it ain't...."

You know what next.

"Then come on out, I'm ready fer ya!"

Goddamn it, her dukes were already full. She got ready to drop the branches and bring them up, just in case.

[Pippi]

((Trinity Ashmore continued from spawn more overlords!))

She’d abandoned the bucket before she’d even left the mining town.

It had been a sound idea on paper, that she was confident upon. Its uses may have been limited, but only a tool would abandon a tool without good reason. The element of surprise wasn’t something to be underestimated; a deluge of ice-cold water directly to the face was likely to stop any rational person in their tracks. Hell, the threat alone could be a good deterrent; walking around in sodden clothing was normally just a pain in the ass. Here, in freezing temperatures? It could be deadly.

In practice, however, the stupid plastic bucket was filled almost to the brim with stagnant water, so it was, of course, heavy as shit. It would have been some feat to carry it around with both hands; with her right occupied with clutching the bizarre looking polearm, it was an agonising impossibility. The handle had creaked ominously with every footstep, and dug into her fingers, even through the protective layer of her gloves. She had been sweating and swearing profusely before she’d even lost sight of the processing building.

So, to the side of the road it had been abandoned, along with a hefty chunk of her pride.

---

Trinity didn’t have any location in mind to aim for; it wasn’t as though she had made urgent plans to meet up with anybody, or that she desperately needed to make it to an abandoned campsite of all things. She was able to check her map every so often, now that she wasn’t near-literally dragging that hellish bucket along behind herself, but she was mostly just using it to ensure she was following paths, and not about to traipse into a patch of quicksand or landmine testing area. And as she wandered, her mind followed suit, and it took her to a rather irritating, disquieting conclusion.

Maybe, with the gift of hindsight now blessed upon her, she hadn’t handled that situation back in the plant as well as she could have - or should have.

This did not mean that she no longer thought that Fitz had been a little bitch back there, far from it. He had threatened to shoot her on particularly spurious grounds, after all, and even outside of that, he’d been shifty and snide and impossible to deal with. But… okay, fine, she also hadn’t given the best account of herself, stuck in her little cupboard of safety. Maybe her reactions had been a bit too acerbic, maybe she shouldn’t have lashed out at every damn voice that piped up to make its opinion known. They had, after all, just been trying to lend a helping hand, she was aware of that now. She still wouldn’t have gone with them, regardless of how that encounter had gone down, but maybe things could have been settled without the place turning into a pressure cooker. And without her preparing to hurl a bucket of water over Fitz’s stupid head.

So that had been another lump of ego, laid to rest in the snow.

---

All in all, not the most pleasant of treks in the world. It hadn’t been awful at first, at least not once she’d gotten rid of the malignant plastic parasite, with plenty of things to ponder over and keep her occupied. But it hadn’t taken long before her thoughts had turned sour. The retrospective of the encounter in the processing plant had been the start of it, of course.

There were other topics to consider, though, ones that hung over her with an air of growing malaise, that were impossible to ignore out here on the island, thrust into the midst of the terrorist’s game. She had to consider them. Had to consider how everybody else stranded here would be tackling them, too. Fitz and Tenshi and Cedar hadn’t been a threat, in the end. There had been no intention to take her out before she could react. They had been more than willing to let her sit and stew, unharmed and untouched. It wouldn’t be too long before she ran into someone much less inclined to live and let live.

And of course, lingering in the back of her mind, was the question, that one, singular question of what her own end goal was, that she knew would never leave her be, regardless of the conclusion she came to.

It was a lonely walk, as well. On the balance of things, the opportunity to mull everything over without interruption was the preferred option, a rare boon she knew she might not receive again. And the healthy layer of paranoia she possessed meant that she was unsure who, if anybody, she would be willing to spend time alongside right now. But as she trudged along the neverending, winding dirt paths, watching the monochrome landscape of snow and winter sky pass her by, that human desire for companionship reared its ugly head, the pang of loneliness hitting fast and hitting hard. Just another measure of misery to be added to her load.

Her feet were starting to fucking kill her, also. Her Mary Janes were designed for leisurely strolls at most. Not cross-country expeditions.

She was at the remnants of civilisation now, at least, if the shapes in the low light and her interpretation of the map hadn’t led her astray. The silhouettes around her were blocky and imposing, buildings (or so she hoped) that were constructed for function over form. An intimidating locale in the dark, maybe, but shelter was shelter, and in the cold, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

No doubt anyone wandering over this way would want to get inside as soon as possible, and make a beeline for the largest buildings closest to the road. Trinity’s exhausted legs screamed out for her to do the same, but her mind had other plans. There was a much smaller building, rail-thin spires jutting from the roof, off the beaten path and away from the main cluster. That was her goal, now. A couple hundred extra yards of walking was a fair price for solitude and uninterrupted rest.

Another great idea when confined solely to paper.

A voice broke out through the darkness and the silence, making Trinity jump and slap a hand over her mouth to stifle a yelp of shock. Female, bullish sounding from her manner of speech, familiar solely in the way that it had floated past her in corridors and classrooms. She mentioned a Calvin; only one person with that name that Trinity was aware of, and unfortunately her knowledge of him was limited to the single session of Among Them he’d inexplicably roped her into.

A threat? From what she was saying, very likely.

There was still a small stretch of road leading up to the entrance of this tiny little shack. Turning tail and finding another place to settle down in was always an option. But as soon as Trinity looked over her shoulder, back at the remaining buildings, her aching body made a decision for her - it was forwards, or collapsing right here in the middle of the road.

She grit her teeth. Fine. She would see how things played out, then.

Trinity crouched down low, moving just off the road to the side of the verge, hoping that the crunching of snow under her feet hadn’t been as audible as her mind was telling her it was.

[Deamon]

The voice was a surprise. It was also unwelcome. But even with her rest interrupted California slowly pushed herself up to her feet. She had to make heavy use of the control panel in the room to help her aching legs and back out but she made it. The faint ghost of pins and needles played across her thighs while her lumbar sent rhythmic pulses through her body to remind her it was there. They were both things she could have done without but was stuck with, which she wasn't okay with, but had become used to.

"I'm coming," She muttered to herself as she picked up her hat and pulled it over her hair and ears. She recognized the voice in much the same way she recognized people around JEM, their facial structure was familiar but she couldn't pull forth any further details and the voice caught her in much the same way. It was familiar but unknown. California's hand reached into her coat pocket, checking that her escape button was still present and when satisfied it was she slowly moved forwards to the door.

Her heart rate once again found itself increasing as she reached out for the handle. She took a long, deep breath in through her nose and exhaled out through her mouth. It was important that she remained calm. She had to keep her composure. California blinked rapidly as her vision began to pinhole then squeezed her eyes shut and took another long breath.

Satisfied her hand gripped the handle and she pushed the door open partway, sticking her head around to see who was outside.

What she found was a tall, blonde girl who had arms full of branches.

California let the breath she'd been holding out and looked at and around the girl.

"What are you doing?"

[D/N]

This chick looked kinda like a shorter, dumpier version of Fey. Hair a bit longer. Gnarly scar. She wore a puffy gold jacket kinda similar to Fey's, maybe a bit more neatly than Fey did. So uglier, but more stylish. Maybe she was like Fey's evil inverse twin or something fun like that.

OK, maybe not. And her shuffling to the door and asking calmly wasn't gonna get Fey's feet dancing.

"Yeeah, uh..."

Soooooo, so much for that running joke.

Fey shrugged.

Anything she could take into account? No beef. She couldn't have beef, cause Fey didn't really know who the girl was. She might've been new to JEM this year? Fey vaguely remembered seeing her around and stuff. And sure she wasn't coming off as the friendliest bunch of lilies, but that wasn't too much worth complaining about.

So to conclude, no beef meant no reason to consider other options other than to say hi.

"Hey. Uh, I'm Fey. I was here with Calvin before. Rawls. We split off to get some wood. Gonna try to get a bit of fire going inside, keep warm tonight."

Distant sounds around her. Fey didn't bother thinking bout those too much.

"You in? Getting dark."

[Pippi]

Something caught in Trinity’s throat, as she listened to the two girls. Her body froze, blending in with her surroundings. The hair on the back of her neck stood to attention.

An odd reaction to an outsider looking in, she realised. Fey had played her hand, and it had revealed itself to be completely empty - metaphorically, obviously, Trinity could see the bundle of sticks held in her arms, now that she was focusing on the scene unfolding in front of her. For all of her previous bluster and pushiness, her goal seemed much the same as Trinity’s in the end; a place to stay for rest and recovery. The other girl, currently unidentified, hadn’t said very much, but she also hadn’t sounded like a threat in the moment; nor had she blown Fey away in a half of bullets. Taking all the information she’d been provided into consideration, the rewards for approaching the tiny shack far outstripped the risks.

The source of Trinity’s fear lay far away from the island itself.

A moment or two after Fey had revealed her name, something had clicked inside of Trinity’s mind, memories - a whole, long string of them - that she had buried away deep inside of her, starting to crawl back up to the surface. The voice hadn’t been enough to unlock them, the name alone wouldn’t have done the trick - ‘Faye’ and its associates weren’t the most common of names in the universe but plentiful enough that there was no doubt more than one scattered throughout JEM - but the two of them combined slotted perfectly together, bringing forth scenes from long, long ago, a lifetime ago as far as she was concerned. It was almost too perfect, in fact. She couldn’t be entirely certain that her paranoia wasn’t running rampant once more, making her see ghosts where there were none, jumping at shadows that just so happened to fit the exact shape of the trauma from her past.

It was a precarious position. For perhaps the first time in her life, Trinity was desperately hoping she was wrong about something.

She glanced around behind her one last time, looking at the scant few lights of the little ramshackle settlement. The buildings looked a lot further away, now. Her entire body felt excruciatingly heavy, her legs most of all. She hadn’t realised it until this moment, but she was using the polearm-thing for support, practically leaning on it, prongs wedged into the snow and dirt.

She scowled. She clenched her fists tight. She shivered, violently enough for her legs to knock together. The decisive tiebreaker.

“Hey, um… excuse me? Hello!”

Trinity stood herself up, wobbling slightly as she got to her feet, using the spear to help pull herself up off the verge and towards the listening station.

“Is there room for one more? I need a place to stay.”

She hoped that Fey, if it was the very same, didn’t recognise her as she drew closer. And if Trinity was correct, the silver lining was that she almost certainly wouldn’t.

[Deamon]

California shrugged by way of an answer.

"Sure,"

It would have been stupid to say no to the offer of warmth, even if she was unsure as to who it was offering. It did however occur to her that perhaps setting up a fire in a room the size of a large closet may not have been the best idea. But she kept that to herself.

Silently her hand released the icepick in her jacket pocket and she pulled the door further open. It was a weird gesture. She wasn't inviting Fey into her house after all, but the motions were the same. But even then it could hardly have been considered California's place. From the sound of it Fey had been in residence first, so that made California herself a squatter. If she had deemed it appropriate Fey would have been within her rights to throw hands. If anything California considered it lucky that Fey wasn't pressing the issue.

Just as she was about to do the weird act of inviting Fey inside another voice called out from somewhere in the rapidly dimming evening. California didn't recognize the voice. She had been spending her second time through senior year learning as little as possible about her classmates. She knew none of the stories of wild parties, none of the gossip about who kissed who, and none of the drama of who was fighting over some issue or other. It had seemed like a sensible plan at the time. If she just kept her head down and worked she could have proven to everyone that she could make it through high school, that she wasn't dumb.

And now she knew nothing about the people she was sharing a murder island with.

So when she turned and saw a girl with wavy brown hair and glasses she didn't recognize it wasn't a surprise. The spear was though.

Her hand found its way back to the icepick.

"Uh, sure I guess."

[D/N]

Great.

Girl who was fine with her coming in but didn't give Fey her name.

Could be worse, she guessed.

When the girl pushed the door further open Fey nodded. "Thanks," she said, and awkwardly shuffled her way inside. dumping the bundle of sticks in the corner, just as some other girl's voice outside was also showing up. Fey turned her head but couldn't see who it was.

Girl called out that sure they could come in. Fey wasn't gonna argue. The more the merrier, right? Well, not really. But again, Fey knew it was what she had to do. Let people in. Show you can deal with them, then assume good intentions. Grin and bear it. Share the wealth.

Jesus Christ it was gonna be rough keeping this up. It was a thing. But a tough thing.

"Yeah, I'm cool!" she called out.

Fey zipped open her assigned bag. The gloves were on top. Just in case.

OK then. Presumably not-Fey station girl would deal with the arrival of other girl, make sure that she wasn't packing an Uzi or anything, and Fey would get right on the fire thing.

...And how the hell was she supposed to do that exactly? Was there something she should know about lighting a fire inside?

Nah. Just keep it small right? And away from any other flammable stuff like the audio table.

Of course, this building looked to be made out of concrete and metal. Didn't you need a pit or something to do a fire?

"Uh...."

Damnit.

Fey paused, then started rummaging through the first aid kit to grab the lighter.

"Hey, new girl! You know anything about making a fire?"

[Pippi]

Trinity tried her very best to hide the look on her face as she got close to the two girls, an unpleasant cocktail of revulsion, apprehension, and hatred. Of fear.

She’d never been an actress, though; for all the movies she watched and performances she’d critiqued, she’d never once mastered the art of masking her own emotions, of putting on a role, of trying to be something other than Trinity Ashmore. Angered outbursts and floods of tears when things didn’t go her way were commonplace, and she didn’t have any idea how to change that about herself. So to, it seemed, was reacting to buried memories that had dug themselves up at the worst possible moment.

Because, oh, of course, it was the Fey she’d dreaded it to be, she was almost completely positive of this now. She’d gotten taller. Her hair had gotten shorter. Her style of clothing had changed somewhat drastically. But the structure of her face, her tall and lanky body shape, the way that she spoke; it was all impossible to forget. It was burned into her memory, the way you instantly recognised a long lost friend on sight, even after years of separation.

A ‘friend’. Yeah, right. Fey was talking right now as if they would be all buddy-buddy just because they were all trapped on the same boat, but Trinity knew that would never be true, not from her side at least. She just hoped that the light was low enough that Fey couldn’t see the look on her face properly. Or at the very least, if she could, that she’d assume it was just a reaction to their current, miserable situation.

As for the other girl, the one standing in the doorway… Callie something, maybe? Trinity didn’t know much about her, because it seemed as though she didn’t want to be known. Always quiet, always keeping to herself, almost retreating back inside of that oversized jacket she always seemed to wear. She was older than most of the class by a couple of years, and while Trinity wasn’t churlish enough to blame her for one of the failed attempts at passing a grade, the other occasion was…

Mmm. No, once was understandable, twice was a surefire sign of an unwillingness to improve oneself. No regrets over potential missed connections here. She seemed antsy and reluctant to engage, just as withdrawn as she had been at school. Perfectly reasonable, given the circumstances, but no less difficult to work with.

Neither of these girls were Trinity’s ideal bunkmates. Sacrifices had to be made, she supposed. But she had a feeling she would be sleeping with one eye open nonetheless.

“Trinity,” she muttered in response to Fey. “My name’s Trinity.”

She withheld her surname for the time being. Her first name wouldn’t mean anything to Fey, or so she hoped. Her last name, maybe a little more so.

“And I’ve read a little bit on the subject. I know the general theory and idea behind it, but I’ve never actually done it.”

If she was more arrogant, more foolhardy, or just plain stupid, she would have said something along the lines of ‘But how hard can it be?’ Those were always the famous last words that led directly to egg on one's face, or a meal of crow. She twisted the polearm in her hands, a nervous tick, and cocked her head slightly as she looked at Fey.

“Are you really planning on starting a fire inside, though? That seems…”

Completely fucking insane.

“Dangerous.”

[Deamon]

The first girl came into the listening station and dropped her bundle of sticks and twigs on the floor. They looked somewhat ridiculous, being dumped in the corner like they were. Both as a part of the contents of the room, along with the electrical equipment, and also because it was a bunch of sticks dumped on the floor.

Meanwhile, the second girl had made her way closer. She said her name was Trinity, which California thought was a pretty name, but then Trinity didn't look very happy to be there. The conversation shifted to if anyone knew exactly how to get a fire going, which again made California think of how much better everything would have been if Kai was with her. She knew he'd know how to set up a fire, he would have been able to get one going quickly for them. California herself had no idea how to get a fire lit, outside of assembling the sticks and putting a lighter to one.

California turned her attention to the weapon Trinity was armed with. It was a wooden polearm of some sort with a curved metal U at the top. It looked fairly vicious and if Trinity had wanted to she would have been able to do some damage to her. California did wonder what the weapon was, and what it was supposed to be for. She hadn't seen anything like it before.

Trinity commented on the plan to start a fire indoors, bringing up that it may not have been safe to do.

"Oh," California said quietly, turning to look at Fey and the pile of sticks. "Yeah, you're probably right."

[Deamon]

There was an awkward silence that settled over them. California knew she needed to respond to Trinity but she didn't know either girl well enough to know what their reactions to her taking the lead on anything would have been. Those feelings of doubt mixed with the uncertainty that had settled over her ever since she had encountered Kitty and Meena. That had ended with Meena shooting out a window California stood next to and was exactly the kind of thing she didn't want to go through again. It made her hesitate, so she ineffectively stood there like an idiot who had just realized that lighting a fire indoors was a bad idea, which she was.

Her index finger picked at the skin on her thumb.

"Okay, let's move it to just outside then."

[Pippi]

Trinity couldn’t prevent herself from tutting impatiently, although she did, at least, have the self-restraint to hold back the eyeroll she so desperately wanted to perform. Practically a full minute to agree that starting a campfire inside an enclosed space - when none of them actually seemed to have any idea how to make one in the first place - wasn’t the smartest idea in the world. She wondered, which one would have got them first; incineration or smoke inhalation?

She also wondered, not for a first time, whether she was making a severe mistake bunking down with these two. Sacrifices had to be made, yes, but she was really rather hoping that she wasn’t the sacrifice in question. Callie seemed uncertain of her very surroundings, unwilling to step up and make a decision. Fey was… Fey. The wind’s icy chill nipped at Trinity’s skin through the gaps in her clothes, reinforcing the knowledge that she needed to make camp now or never, but was there any chance at all that she could bolt for another building before it was too late?

She took a step forwards, and received the answer she already instinctively knew to be true; no, absolutely goddamn not. Exhaustion was doing its best to swallow her up whole, drag her down and sink her into the snow. She was struggling to feel her legs at this point; God, she hoped neither of the others were watching the way she was walking, ungainly as a newborn foal as it no doubt was. She was locked into this living situation for now. Gritting her teeth, she kept moving forwards, past Callie, and into the little cabin-thing itself.

The thought struck her that, if they weren’t going to make the fire inside, then surely there would be no point in making one at all; a fully enclosed room with no heat source would still likely be as warm as a tiny little fire made in the freezing outdoors. Another thought, however, linked itself to the first, a brand new addition to the spider chart forming in her mind. A fire built outside this tiny little shack meant there were two locations to plant oneself; an easy way, then, for her to avoid Fey as much as she could. Just pick the spot where the other girl wasn’t. Very simple. Very efficient.

Until, of course, they needed to turn in for the night, in which case they’d all certainly settle down within the building itself. She supposed she couldn’t put that eventuality off forever. But she also knew she wouldn’t be sleeping easily tonight.

“Right then,” Trinity said, injecting some much-needed authority into her voice to cut through the exhaustion that was beginning to firmly sink in. “Now that that’s agreed upon, let’s get a move on.”

She bent down, trying to ignore the straining sensation in her knees, resisting the temptation to just keep on going and collapse onto the floor. Just for a couple of minutes longer, at least.

“No point in wasting any more time.”

[D/N]

"Huh."

New girl was Trinity. She was giving Fey a look that said no, you can't light a fire here, what the hell.

Fey looked back. The other girl chimed in herself on that idea.

"Alright."

Fey laughed, and let herself go silent. See, because it was funny that she was a fucking idiot.

California eventually said fuck it, build it outside. Trinity sat herself down like a bit of a bitch. Fey couldn't help but wonder what the hell Calvin had gotten himself into. Probably something a lot more interesting than this.

And the darkness outside was rising.

"Don't guess either of you got anything to drink? Like, besides water?"

Figured.

Fey tossed a bunch of the sticks outside and started trying to light them. Had some help from California. None from Trinity; that chick never volunteered anything about herself to anyone. Well, Fey wasn't stupid. Forget what she'd said above. She knew Trinity was hiding something, although Fey couldn't put a finger on what it was. Also couldn't help but think she knew the chick from somewhere.

The fire sucked. The night would suck.

Up till now, things were just some shitty camping trip slash wilderness survival sort of thing. Maybe some dystopian scenario where the fashs finally got full power and Fey'd been shanghai'd into mandatory military school for her delinquency. The old 'hey this sucks but at least it ain't life and death.'

Fey wasn't yelling righteously from a distance any more. She was right in the thick of the fucking storm.

And she wasn't gonna deal with the morning well either.

[Deamon]

Once the fire was lit and the flames began to leap skyward California took a filter out of her bag and held it in her mouth as she placed the tobacco in the paper she had also withdrawn. Once done she put the filter at the end, licked the paper and rolled it over. Cigarette made she held it in her mouth and crouched down to the fire, removing the cigarette from her mouth and holding the end over the flames until it lit. Then replacing the cigarette in her mouth she withdrew, taking a seat on her bag, that she had placed in a snow-free portion of the ground. It wasn't very comfortable but she figured it was better than sitting on the cold ground.

She took a filter out of the packet and held it in her mouth as she placed the tobacco in the paper then put it at the end, licking the paper and rolling it over. Cigarette made she held it in her mouth as she tossed the packets back in the bag and withdrew the lighter from her pocket, shielding it with her hand she lit her cigarette, inhaling and letting the first drag sit in her chest for a moment before breathing out and watching the smoke curl in front of her. Then dumped the bag on the floor to use and seat.

The orange light of the flames danced around and across their features, putting everything not directly lit in deep shadow, the sun had long gone down and the cold tendrils of the night had begun to encroach across the area. Occasionally they grasped at her and California reflexively tugged her jacket tighter around her body.

They didn't really talk much, instead, they sat and appreciated the warmth until the fire eventually began to dwindle. California's cigarette had long since gone out and once the fire also began to head the same way California retired into the listening station. She tucked herself into a corner, pulled her hood up, and waited until either sleep took her or light began to encroach upon her rest.

It wasn't long after it did that some speakers began to come to life, the noise of their awakening grinding through her airs like the rusted gears of some ancient machine.

California pulled her hood down and listened to the list of names, grimacing as Kitty's name appeared twice.

[Pippi]

Just as she had thought, it was a relatively simple task to stay out of Fey’s way once the (incredibly shoddy-looking) campfire had been constructed. Even easier than expected, in fact. Both of the other girls seemed perfectly content to just remain next to the flames all night, seemingly oblivious to the snow undoubtedly seeping into their clothes, or the belongings in their bags getting crushed as they were used as seats.

It looked like a pretty miserable experience, from the inside of the listening station looking out, via a thin sliver of light whenever she pushed the door ajar. It was hard to tell over the wind, but she couldn’t catch even a single snippet of conversation drifting across from the fire; Callie seemed far more preoccupied, in fact, with the faint glow hanging from her lips. Trinity wrinkled her nose at that. She had better not drag that stench inside when she retired for the night.

Not that her own evening was much more enjoyable or exciting, of course. The enclosed concrete box, built to last in weather such as this, provided a much needed respite from the biting cold outside, but it still wasn’t exactly warm. There was a stillness hanging above her head, accompanied by the smell of dust and stale air, that made her feel like she’d come to rest inside of a crypt; a sensation not helped by the room turning black as pitch whenever she fully shut the door.

But it was away from Fey. That was the most important part of the equation. No probing questions, no time for the other girl to work out exactly where she might have recognised Trinity from. She had ample space in here to stretch out, find a comparatively cozy corner of the room to lay out all of her spare clothes as a makeshift mattress, and try and get some rest. It was far from the least comfortable sleep she’d gotten in her lifetime either, if you could believe it; she’d fallen unconscious while slumped over her desk too many times to count.

No doubt the other two would wonder why she hadn’t joined them around the fire at all. If they asked, she would tell them some waffling bull about how she was concerned about safety, that it didn’t look structurally sound, that sort of thing. A little rude, yes, especially given the most she’d done to help build it had been to aimlessly hold a bundle of sticks in the doorway, but she honestly couldn’t find herself caring too much.

And as morning made its inevitable arrival, and light swarmed over the island, there were much higher priorities for the little group to be focused on.

Trinity rubbed her eyes and let out a loud yawn, cutting out half of Danya’s initial spiel as the announcements whirred to life. She padded her hand across the top of one of the desks, fingers searching for her glasses, grabbing one of the arms and blinking as she slid them onto her face. Then, sitting upright, hands gently resting in her lap, she listened, taking all the information in, looking straight at the wall ahead of her, unmoving.

The point of these announcements was to inform everyone still alive as to who they should be looking out for, who they should try and avoid, who had killed their best friend or lover or sibling in cold blood so that justice could be enacted, right? On the surface, certainly. Trinity wasn’t entirely convinced. Tiny Kitty Graves had killed two people? Sociable, diligent Betty Quinn had smashed someone’s head in? Quiet and reserved Jessica Romero had put a bullet through someone?

Regardless of Trinity’s thoughts towards these people, outside of these objective facts, things just weren’t adding up in her head.

“What do you think, then?”

She murmured the question to the room at large, almost trance-like in her intonation, her attention still seemingly focused on the blank space directly ahead.

“About the announcement, I mean.”