Survival Of The Fittest

((Bobby Jacks continued from: The Continuing Story of Bungalow Reg))

Bobby was rather wary of approaching the barracks. In this kind of weather, buildings were sure to attract any number of people, and at least one of the places around the complex had to be inhabited. With the number of kids on the island, this sort of shelter was at a premium, heck, there were probably even groups. Bobby would back himself against most people in a one on one fight, but when the number were against him he really would prefer to use some discretion. Taking on a whole bunch of people was a surefire way to get killed - unless of course they weren't armed, which was rather unlikely in his opinion. By this point, if you had a poor weapon or weren't with somebody with a good one, you were probably already dead.

Still, going around would mean taking an unfavourable circuitous route and well... he was playing this game wasn't he? That meant he wasn't really supposed to be avoiding other people, right?

I'm not a mindless killer, I've said that before - it doesn't have to go like this. ... Hmph. I'll play this by ear.

Bobby stepped out from the treeline and approached the barracks with caution, keeping an eye out all around to see if there was anybody who might seek to get the drop on him. His carbine was, as always, in his hands, primed and ready to fire. It was his weapon of choice more due to ammunition constraints than real preference. Given the choice Bobby would wield the SIG. However, he had so few bullets available that he thought it prudent to save them for when he would really need them.

In case of close combat, Bobby pulled his scalpel from his belt and held it in the same hand that he was holding the barrel of the carbine. It was a little awkward at first, but he knew that it would help if he ran straight into somebody if he had a weapon to hand.

Reaching one of the buildings, Bobby pressed up against the wall, and after a few moments, felt sure he could hear voices inside, he immediately tensed up, but quickly reminded himself of his earlier resolution.

Play it by ear, no need to get trigger happy

"..." Bobby hesitated, then decided, what the hell, and went for it. "How many people are in there? I heard voices," he stayed cautiously aloof - beside a window, but not enough that much could be seen of him, nor would anybody seeking to take a potshot have an easy job of it.

(OOC: I'm assuming Bobby is at the "party".)

"Shane Rafferty," he said, trying not to look at her tits through the wet shirt. He leaned against the wall, then slid down to a seated position. He felt much safer here than he had when he was holed up in that cave. Something about human contact made him feel better.

"I think I've seen you around before, not that it matters much."

((Mark Tavarian, continued from The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Reg))

Mark was doing what he did best- watching. He had gone from the jungle to a new area, the barracks, or so it was called. He saw another kid walk in, his hair dripping water from the rain. Mark had mostly ignored the rain- it had been going on for quite awhile, and he doubted it was going to stop any time soon.

The kid walked over to a girl in the window, greeting her with a simple 'What's up?' (Mark had no idea how he could act that informal, but he ignored that) The girl's reply was not much better. Although, this could be good... Mark doubted that the killers would talk like this. He also wondered if they noticed him- he doubted it.

What they did next amused him. Smoking marijuana, on this island, of all places? A ridiculous idea. But Mark also had to thank them for it, as it made him ease up a little bit.

These people might just be the people he was looking for- in any case, introducing himself to them couldn't hurt. The boy had a pistol, yes, but Mark doubted he could use it. Both for moral reasons, and because the boy looked too laid back, and.... for lack of a better word, stupid.

"Hey, you two! You got room for one more in there?" Mark said. He was at the front of the barracks, facing them with a smile. Not just any smile- Mark's best, most perfect, I'm a real good guy shit-eating grin.

((B104 Start))

Jonathan was so glad he had found Mark. He had been foraging in the jungle for days now, and he had found almost no one- at least, no one who he could be sure wouldn't kill him. When he had the gun shots, he had been afraid. He had seen the whole thing happen, and he had made a mental note of what Bobby Jacks was.

From what he had seen, the kid was definitely a player. But he wasn't no ice-cold merciless killer, that was for sure. The bullets that had hit the kid had been luck, and afterwards, even Bobby had been shaking. The kills disturbed him... so, he was human. But being human just made what he was doing worse.

Then, Jonathan had heard the sound of someone vomiting. Walking over to find the source of it, he had ended up finding a pile of puke. That, and he had seen the back of Mark as he had ran away from the jungle.

Jonathan had ran after him. Mark was his best friend, as well as his only friend on the island. And not just that, but Mark was smart. Mark would know how to get out of this. He'd know what the best thing to do would be, for him and for Mark.

So, he had followed him to the barracks. He had watched Mark as, ironically, Mark had been watching two people talk to each other. Jonathan had no idea what their names were, and, for the moment, it didn't really matter to him. What did matter, though, was when Mark went forward to talk to the people.

Jonathan had been about to go after him, walk in with the people, when he saw him. Son of a bitch, it was Bobby Jacks. He must have gone to the barracks, too... What ill luck. Jonathan pulled out his shotgun, getting ready, trying to ignore the fear the shotgun brought with it.

He had been working to overcome that since the beginning- loading the shotgun, handling the shotgun, even shooting the shotgun a few times. All until he was able to use it without clenching up, and feeling sick. Despite how much he didn't want to think about it, he knew he might have to use the shotgun sometime, and he needed to get over that fear (at least for the time being).

Jonathan tried not to think about that, and instead focused on Bobby. He had the same gun in his hands as when he had shot the other kid. Was he planning to kill again? Jonathan didn't know, but he knew he'd have to keep an eye on Bobby. If Bobby tried to kill Mark... well, Jonathan simply wouldn't let that happen. Despite his code of nonviolence, if Bobby tried to do that, Jonathan would not hesitate to kill him.

Shane tensed up and grabbed the pistol, pulling it out of his pocket carefully and easing off the safety. Since he was sitting, he wasn't visible from the door or the window.

"That depends," he called out the window, "You planning on killing us?"

"Yeah, probably. I took a year off before going back to do Senior year, so I don't really know anyone that well."

Denise took a moment to seat herself beside her pack, resting her back against the corner where the walls met. The door was to her left. Digging through her bag, she found the meat cleaver, and held it in her lap. How did she intend to cook the rabbit, anyhow?

"Oh!" she jumped, surprised at her own lacking of manners. "Call me Dee."

She didn't know why she let him use the familiar version of her name. Her brother was the only one who really used it any more. Did it really matter, though?

It did. She missed her brother like hell.

Denise hadn't much time to reflect before some guy (Mark? Yeah, Mark Whathisnuts...) opened the door, asking for shelter.

He was too friendly though. Shane was just baked, but this guy...no one was that forward on this island unless they were on drugs, or dangerous.

"That depends. You planning on killing us?"

He had no style, but at least the kid got to the point.

Denise tightened her grip on the handle of her knife.

Goddamn it... What did I do?! Why are you so friendly with that girl, and yet, all of a sudden, it's me, Mark Tavarian, psycho killer?! That's what Mark wanted to say, but he quickly suppressed that notion. As satisfying as it might sound right now, he knew it would only make matters much worse.

"If I was planning on killing you, do you really think I would have walked in here unarmed?" Mark put out his open hands in front of him, making sure they could see there was nothing in them. The smile was gone from his face, replaced by a hard, serious look.

"Sarcasm aside, though, make sure you watch out for your real enemies I just watched that psychopath Bobby Jacks gun down a kid in cold blood. It was terrible." Now, even the hard, serious look was gone from his face. Now, it was a look of desperation.

"But please, let me in here. I'm just as scared as you guys are, and I'm just trying to stay safe. I don't even have a weapon, for God's sake!"

((Yep, he's over by S.A.D.D's building))

Bobby froze up when he caught sight of another nearby. Well, more accurately, when he caught sight of the gun that the other person was toting. Some kind of miracle meant that the guy was actually somebody Bobby recognised, though only by sheer dint of his ruined face. Johnathan... something or other, at this point, it didn't really matter too much.

Then... he relaxed. Bobby looked over at Johnny and met his gaze before lazily raising one eyebrow at him. His carbine was at the ready, and although he would prefer a shotgun over the small arm, Bobby knew that, initially, if a fight broke out he would have the advantage. The distance was such that the range of the shotgun would be a significant factor. Well, he hoped so anyway. If not, he could always duck behind the wall, which no buckshot would ever penetrate.

"If you're going to start something then go ahead," Bobby said to Johnny provocatively. "But if you aren't looking for trouble I'd advise you to walk on, because I don't want it," he more or less expected the guy to know he'd killed somebody, but didn't really care. Hopefully the man would take the wise option and just fade into the background. Otherwise, things were going to get messy.

What the hell am I doing? I was comfortable with pulling the trigger before - why not now? It's too late to repent, what's the point in any attempt to make amends?

Bobby shrugged with one arm, keeping his eyes locked on Johnny's and gun firmly aimed.

"Your choice. Walk. Away,"

Shane paused for a second to rub his eyes, then turned back to Mark.

"All right, I'd say go ahead, but it's really up to Dee."

That grin had just...really creeped him out. The guy didn't seem like too much of a threat, though. That is, if he really was unarmed.

Don't let him in! Don't let him in!

"OK, Mark. Come in," Denise heard herself say.

You fucking dumb bitch...

She relit her half-cigarette. "Think we could barricade the door with one of those cots?" Denise pointed at the wooden beds.

"We need to either make this place safer, or get the hell out."

"This is a bad place for a barbecue." said Shane, getting up. At the moment, though his head was a bit clouded, he was still ambulatory. "We should probably get out while we still can."

Shit! Bobby had seen him... And now he was pointing the gun at Jonathan. Two guns, both at a range where they could do damage- not a good mix. Jonathan wasn't foolish enough to see how this one played out.

"Alright, Bobby, I'm going- I'm not in the mood for dying right now, and I doubt you are either." said Jonathan, as he started edging towards the barracks Mark was in. He kept his body facing front, his shotgun trained on Bobby. If Bobby did decide to shoot him, he'd make damn sure he at least got a shot back.

"You know, Bobby, when you think about it, we're quite similar." Jonathan said, as he continued to move towards Mark's barracks. "We're both social exiles, taking ourselves out of fine highschool society by choice. We're both strong, and we're both good fighters- although I'd have to say you have the edge on me there."

Jonathan laughed at his last remark, all while continuing to move towards the barracks Mark was in.

"But you know what the difference is between us, Bobby?" said Jonathan. "You're a killer, Bobby. A murderer... I saw what you did in the jungle. Don't think I'll be forgetting that, Bobby."

Jonathan had made it to Mark's barracks, but he kept his gun focused on Bobby until he was able to get in the right position. Once he was, in one quick movement, he jumped behind the barracks, using it as a barrier between him and Bobby. He doubted Bobby wanted a gunfight, but if he did, he'd have to come and get close.

********

Mark listened as the two of them decided to let them in. He still thought they didn't trust him, though... that was bad. They would, though. Why wouldn't they? Mark was a good kid- he was planning, maybe, but planning for his survival.

"Thank you, thank you." said Mark, as he walked into the barracks. As he walked in, he heard the girl's suggestion about barricading the door. He considered it, but something about it felt wrong to him.

"I too think that, perhaps, we should move. In this barracks... it feels like we're trapped."

Oh... well, this place certainly filled up quickly.

Dominca frowned slightly, pulling the safety off her Taurus Millennium at the sight of two boys having a stare down. She stomped over, pointing the pistol at the general are of the two, specifically pointing it at Bobby. While she didn't really care whether or not the two of them killed each other, she was desperately trying not to let another gunfight start. She was certain that Neil wouldn't want that either. She didn't look back to see if Matthew was alright, neither did she look around at Neil who was just a few yards away.

"Hey!" She yelled, her grip on the pistol and her aim at Bobby not unyielding whatsoever. "You're Jacks, right? That's your name, correct?" she grimaced. "Listen, I don't mind you being here, but if you're going to start trouble, then you and your friend arguing with you just now should take your goddamned paranoia somewhere else. We're all friends here..." she shrugged slightly. "... but just in case you two just now were trying to bluff each other out, you might as well know that I wouldn't hesitate to shoot either of you if you start something. Trust me, I'm n-" she sneezed loudly, her nose visible sore. "-I - I'm not in the best of moods right now."

"Let's get the hell out of here then." Denise said as she got to her feet. She felt surprisingly sober.

Until she began to gather her belongings, that is. Her eyes started to feel heavier, and her senses became a little more amplified.

Ah, there it is.

She looked to Mark, who was closest to the grimy window facing out front.

"Do you see anything out there?"

Things happened so fast.

They always happened so fast.

Neil Sinclair, leader of S.A.D.D, could never catch a break. Stained with his friends blood, he was relieved that it was Quincy, Warren, and Dennis he ran into. Though, Warren and Dennis were the only ones from SADD, which worried Neil. Where were the others? There were at least ten people at the lighthouse before it became a danger zone and everyone ran away. The general consensus was to rally back at the barracks. To regroup SADD. To figure out how to fight Danya another way.

Though, it appeared as if people were getting lost. Neil Sinclair wanted to rest, wanted to think. He didn't even have time to mourn Corbin's death, and he needed to take care of Dominica and Matthew. Both of them were wounded from the fight, and they needed attention. Neil had to get everyone back together. He had to rally the group.

Though like everything on the island, things happened too fast.

Neil heard a voice demanding to know how many people were around, then he heard a confrontation outside. Before he could respond, he saw Dominica aiming her new weapon at two boys.

Everything was going in a blur to Neil, but he wasn't going to let his ally get hurt. He looked back at Warren, Dennis, and Quincy and said, "Warren, Dennis, if you guys are still with me back me up here. Quincy, if you wanna be apart of SADD, you're in. We got to move now though."

Neil noticed the girl, Hannah, who was speaking. He didn't have time to tell her anything, considering the currently escalating situation, so he only said, "Get behind cover and you'll be safe."

Neil was tired of playing around. He was tired. Not physically but emotionally. Aiming his M16 he took cover at the side of the barracks and aimed out and shouted at the two boys having a stand off as well.

Not only did he shout at them, but he shouted to everyone in the area.

"Alright, this is fucking Neil Sinclair and I'm tired of all this stupid 'I wanna get off the island so I'll shoot you' bullshit. So you two over there, but down your damn weapons and we'll figure out how to settle this. Right now, I just want to sit down, and have time to think. Is that so hard to ask for?"

Neil Sinclair hated the rain.

He hated this island.

He hated Danya.

Mark looked out the window, and focused on trying to see everything. The girl was right to be worried- if they were going out, they had to make sure it was safe out there. And Mark saw something that definitely made him rethink the 'safe' aspect of going outside.

"Yeah, I see something. I see fucking Bobby Jacks, gun drawn. He's over by another one of the barracks... He's aiming this way, though." Mark turned around, and looked at the two of them. The nervousness showed clearly on his face.

"What do you guys want to do?"