Survival Of The Fittest

The word "baby-sitting" made Celeste visibly bristle, though the rest of that statement pissed her off too. But that one part of that one word--baby...Dear God, it pissed her off! And now he was...What, 'cause he's a big man he thinks he can't have a couple girls hang around him? Is that it? Damn it, I thought guys wanted to protect girls! It was lucky that the other girl spoke up to defend herself, because it meant Celeste wouldn't have to say anything herself...and she didn't think she could speak to the guy without letting out a few swears and pissing him off. Well, pissing him off further, from the looks of him and the tone of voice.

"What she said," she settled for grumbling instead, lowering her head a bit and glaring at the more confident boy, attempting a Kubrick Stare. Her hand tightened on the handle of her sledgehammer--out of her anger, only a childish desire to use it, like to smack a tree or the ground. The other boy, his damn floundering, pissed her off too...didn't know, did he? Asshat. "What, you don't want girls around you--you'll be our baby-sitters and we wouldn't do jack-shit to defend ourselves? I just said i didn't wanna die--which means I'd fucking use this thing if I have to, okay?! I'm not gonna just...just sit around and--UGH!" Celeste shook, stopping in her little rant...why even bother with these two? Maybe the girl would be more willing to have a traveling companion.

Yeah, that sounded better--ditch the jerks and go with the girl. "I just want to have someone with me for a while...Least til I find my boyfriend, then if I piss you off, you can leave." John... Celeste didn't want to admit it, but she felt a sick feeling in her stomach at the thought of him. He hadn't seemed very athletic--except in the bedroom, but hey, who wasn't? She only hoped that he'd gotten a better weapon than she had. Shaking her head, she turned her attention to Kayla, still glaring somewhat. "You'll walk with me, right? uhm...Person?"

Brock's earlier depression was now all but burned away by irritation. In fact, anger was probably the only thing that would have had a decent shot of snapping him out of his funk. Brock ran hot and cold most of the time, and whilst he was brooding and reserved by nature, he did have a slight tendency to lash out. The situation was definitely prodding him towards that. Hunt's complete lack of anything resembling conviction, the words of both of the new arrivals... yeah, Brock wasn't a happy bunny.

Gritting his teeth, trying to stop himself from just starting to yell, Brock got to his feet, tossing his pistol on top of his daypack, just to his left. Turning to the pair of girls, he took a couple of steps towards them and then loomed for a couple of seconds. Brock was good at looming, particularly over people so considerably shorter than him and not built like tanks. Although he didn't do it often, Brock was pretty well-versed in using his size to intimidate people and at that moment, he was turning on the menace. His glower most certainly wasn't, however, put on.

"Let me put it this way," Brock said. "Nobody wants to die, but some people are gonna be willing to cross lines that others won't," he pointed straight at the redhead. "I. Don't. Know. You. I don't know if you'd do that, I don't know if she'd do that," Brock indicated the smaller girl. "I don't even know if Hunt would. Expecting people to take you at face value is stupid, especially when the single biggest detail they know is that you're not too shabby at calculus," Brock's voice was restrained, but it had a cool anger to it. An explosion was clearly being held in check. "The downside to your offer is that I can't tell whether it's fucking true! I ain't no mind reader or lie detector. I ain't watching the back of somebody that might plant a goddamn knife in mine!"

Brock turned away, shaking his head. How could you be that naive? Brock's gut feeling was that the girls were genuine, but his head was telling him that even if they were, he'd just be the muscle of the outfit. Hunt, at least, had some smarts to offer, the girls? Hell one of them looked like her weapon weighed more than she did. Expecting Brock, somebody they barely knew, to welcome them with open arms was flatly stupid.

Hilary was going to be enough to shield as it was without complicating things...

Walking over to his pack, Brock slipped the gun inside of it and then slung the bag onto his shoulder. He looked back to the girls again, then glanced at Hunt. That little gut feeling tweaked at him again and he scowled. Annoyed though he was, his conscience was telling him that he couldn't just turn them away altogether. What if Brock driving them off left them prey for some psycho? ...Dammit, middle road it was.

"Look..." Brock began, semi-forcing the words out. "I ain't making any promises, but... you can tag along if you want. I ain't gonna stick my neck out for you guys, but I ain't gonna tell you to buzz off either," Brock took a step, then halted, looking back again. "One thing though... I've got plans. I'm looking for someone. If that don't suit you... best to make your own way."

And with that, not even glancing back again, Brock took off into the woods. Hoping against hope the Hilary was alright...

((Brock Mason continued Dirty)

((Writer's block. I'll have a better post when I've got more... ammunition.))

Stoic, Steven looked back at the two girls. Despite his earlier misgivings, he could only help but agree with Brock. They were going to see some fucked up shit in the next few days, and it really wouldn't do Steven any good to be having to help maintain the sanity of others in addition to his own, which at the moment felt somewhat fleeting. It didn't feel right... Hell, it didn't even LOOK good on his part, but Steven also felt compelled to turn away.

"Guys... good luck, but I honestly need to be alone for this. I've seen things already that I wish I never had. I don't want to have to be anywhere near that kind of shit ever again. Try to not lose your heads out here. That's all we can really do."

Before they could respond, he had already started away. Where? Somewhere there wasn't people. Clearly the woods weren't a good idea anymore. Brock seemed to want to find his own way, and Steven wasn't really feeling like testing the guy's patience.

((Steven Hunt continued in It's Hard to Walk Tall When You're Small))

((Short Post is Short. Just saving Kayla from inactivity, and moving this along.))

Kayla glanced at Celeste. Personally, she would rather not have to deal with a guy who resented her presence in a group. "I think I- We would rather go our own way. I hope you find whoever you are looking for," she said curtly to Brock's retreating back. She turned to Celeste and nodded, then turned and walked in the opposite direction Brock and Steven had left to. Her sword hung loosely in her hand, not ready to face any danger that they would come across. She would probably come to regret her unreadiness.

((Kayla McArthur continued in When the Bite Just Isn't Sharp Enough))

Weeell, perfect. Absolutely perfect. The two boys just walked off, leaving Celeste and the other girl all by themselves. Sure, with weapons, but still! Celeste gave the finger to their retreating backsides, switching her sledge-hammer to the other shoulder. "Assholes," she spat, shaking her head.

At least the other girl, Kayla, wasn't going to leave Celeste for the wolves--students...whatever. Celeste saw the other girl give her a nod before turning and walking off in another direction. She took that to mean that it was okay for her to follow the other. "Hey, thanks," Celeste called out, walking after Kayla. Probably didn't hear me, though...I'll say it again later, she told herself.

[[Celeste Beaumont continued elsewhere]]