Survival Of The Fittest

Katarina leaned on the scythe, spinning the butt against the ground and shaking her head. It felt good to laugh. It really did. She'd need a lot more laughter in the coming days and weeks, and the company to share it with. All the same, an urge for solitude began to flare within her. As much as she loved debating anything and everything, it wasn't exactly a productive meeting they'd been having. The knife clearly wasn't hers, and she really only had one good question. It was, all things considered, quite a good one, but as neither she nor Rosemary seemed to have an answer for it, it wouldn't do to just stand and repeat herself once more.

"Oh, I'm not crazy yet. You'll now it when I'm crazy. I am one hun- ninety percent sane. Guaranteed." She gave another little giggle. It was still just too silly. Too surreal. Maybe she was going crazy. It wasn't like she'd know it, because going crazy meant twisting around your value system, but the only thing you could judge your value system with was itself. Like that joke where the guy walks into the doctor's and pokes himself everywhere and complains that it hurts, and the doctor tells him his finger's broken.

It was a fun little thought, but she'd put it away for the moment. She had half a mind to simply walk away, because things didn't seem to really be progressing between the two of them and it wasn't like Rosemary was going to be alive to stumble across her later and call her out on it, but on the other hand there were a hundred and fifty potential dangers around and Rosemary wasn't likely going to be alive to stumble across her later. And if she was being honest, because really from what she'd heard from the survivors the whole thing seemed to be about not pissing off random foreign kids with guns, she herself might not be around to stumble across a battered, bruised, and still-breathing Rosemary sometime in the future.

So the girl in front of her was worth at least the time of day, which was well past the threshold for people Katarina felt obliged to justify her positions to.

"For serious though, I'm not actively trying to play. I mean, I dunno what exactly your metric is. I did make a death threat, yeah, but I didn't really mean it. I think that's kinda par for the course, though, isn't it? I'm quite obviously not gonna kill you, but I'm not gonna ask how you slept, you know?"

"I'm gonna say, though, how many kids went in last time, and how many came out? Not a very freakin' good ratio, that's for sure. You're not gonna sit back and never have to think about stabbing anyone and just stumble your way into a spot where a hundred kids already bit it. And there's no time like the present to prepare, eh? But, like, I don't think we're really getting anywhere here. You're fine sitting on your knife and giving it to whoever you're too pansy to shank and I'm too sane to murder you for it, and I don't think there's much else to gain from trading disapproval back and forth."

"Sounds fair enough," Rosemary replied calmly, a smile coming back to the surface. Kat and her hadn't come to blows. She wasn't better off then when she woke up, but at least she wasn't worse. She knew not all meetings would be like this.

In one of them though, in order to get home I'll have to kill someone. That or escape, but since she wasn't planning on teaming up, that possibility didn't seem likely, and she was too scared to try. But having to take another human's life. It made her stomach turn and the horrible taste in her mouth become even more pronounced.

Just cross that bridge when I get to it. Won't do me any good to think about it right now.

"And your right about last time. And probably the times before that. The odds are stacked against us." She replied, looking at the girl, trying to make sure to remember her face. She continued to look at Kat calmly as she walked to the side and until she reached the door.

"Let's hope we don't meet again, Kat. And... good luck."

(Rosemary Michaels continued to Where on the Island is Carmen Sandiego?.)

Aaaand that was easy.

She stood grinding the butt of the scythe a moment more and blinked away her surprise. 'Fair enough?' That was it? No, that wasn't it. 'You're right.' Holy crap, what was going on? It was all so strange, unexpected. Disappointing, really. No sour mood to slip into, no working herself up into a frenzy and then making subtly condescending amends. She'd expected more out of someone who'd stood and faced death so cavalierly.

...Or, who just called the whole freaking bluff and didn't even have the decency to rub it in. She sighed as Rosemary made her sweet little farewell. Maybe she really was just that. Sweet, innocent, naive. That was almost enough to bring a smile back to Katarina's face. Always the ones you didn't expect, wasn't it? she could keep the knife, then. But maybe, if events conspired, she wouldn't mind seeing her again. Friend, foe, or otherwise. It could be interesting.

"Same to you," she called just a little late. Louder, "Just don't give that thing away!"

((Katarina Konipaski continued in Omphaloskepsis))