Survival Of The Fittest

Faith bit her tongue, though figuratively this time, as Blaise and Dante offered their own versions of help. She couldn't help but feel Blaise's words sting, with her seemingly deciding she already knew her, despite them never having said more than a few words to one another on the island. It seemed that judgement was forthcoming from all sides, even those which didn't wish to condemn her, and she was glad that Blaise couldn't see her face whilst helping her out of the duct tape. She shook her head in response to both Dante's quizzing, and his suggestion, answering them both with one movement before she opened her mouth to elaborate.

"Sierra took it. Be careful out there." her eyes flicked down to his leg again. It made her feel sick in the back of her throat, the way the red had congealed, not into a scab but into a horrible crimson and black mess around the wound. She forced her eyes back up to meet his, trying to act like she wasn't as put off as she was. If she looked like she was panicking, then he would panic, she had to be calm.

"I'll -Well, I got some experience. Won't be my first time trapping out in the woods" she lied, smiling with a confidence she didn't feel. "You just gotta take it easy, okay - No dying before the rescue gets he- SHIT."

Her speech was interrupted as the last reel of tape came off, peeling with it what felt like a layer of skin with it, even if it was only a few hairs. She turned her head around to address Blaise.

"Fuck, you weren't kidding." she murmured, as she quickly brought her arms forwards, having been freed. She rolled her shoulders forwards a little, the movement making her joints crack a little, the relief of her muscles feeling like bliss as she regained he use of all of her limbs. She brought her hands up, and rolled her wrists a little, opening and closing her hands, checking everything was working. It felt a little sluggish, like she'd gone to sleep lying over both her arms, but it was bearable.

She looked over at Juliette as she began to move on. Following her felt like a bad idea, but so did staying on her own, and so did sticking with Blaise and Dante. She looked back at the pair that were with her. The realisation struck her that she hadn't really thought about what she was going to do after she got out of her ghetto handcuffs.

"Dante, Blaise - I'll meet up with you at the big house on the hill tomorrow. I'm going to try and find more people who haven't gone fucking nuts already, and try and keep everyone together." she paused for a moment, settling her gaze on Blaise.

"Take care of him, please." she added, her voice softening. It wasn't like Blaise was going to take orders from her, but she had to say it anyway.

With that said, Faith took a few steps back, rejoining the path. She gave the two of them a brief wave, before setting off down the path, in the opposite direction of Juliette. As nice as her offer had been, there would be water elsewhere, without burdening another person who'd avoided the temptation to go feral.

((Faith Clementine Marshal-Mackenzie continued in before my day is done, my prince will come))

And just as soon as he'd found her, she was gone.

It was okay, though. Faith seemed to have good reasons for wanting to go, or at least she seemed to know what she wanted to do, after her hands were freed. Dante really wished she'd at least take an energy bar or something, but considering Blaise seemed pretty anti-that-idea and Faith didn't really seem too keen on it either, his hands were... uh, tied. Not literally. He noticed, and tried not to because she didn't want him to notice, how Faith's eyes kept flickering down to his leg. It was nice of her, he thought, to not make a big deal out of it or freak out or anything. He probably would have freaked out if she'd been hurt like that but that would've been pretty selfish of him now that he was thinking about it but also she hadn't been shot and he was too tired to really freak out about things anyway and he was getting off-topic again.

She had a plan, sort of. The big house on the hill, which, uh, Dante didn't know where that was actually? He hadn't looked at the maps, but he could trust Blaise and Camila with the logistics, probably. It was a good plan, and he could trust anyone Faith could. A few names came to mind and he thought about asking her specifically to look for them, but he didn't want to bias her or anything. She should be helping anyone she could, not just the people that were important to him.

Everyone was important to him, kind of. The thought of anyone dying here pained him in a way his leg couldn't match.

"We'll see you then," he said, still smiling, returning the wave she gave him as he walked away. For a moment he was overcome with the urge to follow her, but he couldn't walk that way by himself, and it passed pretty quickly. He knew asking Blaise if they ought to go with her was gonna be a wash, but he couldn't help but worry. She didn't have anything or anyone to protect her except herself and she was real smart and good and good at talking to people and that would have to be enough, right? She'd be okay. She had to be.

Juliette sounded like she was leaving, too. Dante was happy to see people alive and relatively well but it was kind of fucking with him that he just had to leave them alone again and hope for the best. Faith didn't want company, Juliette seemed like she might? He didn't get the sense Blaise really wanted any more company, and he didn't know Juliette all that well, but he would feel better if he could accomplish something. Blaise had helped Faith free herself, that was something. He didn't know what he could do for Juliette, but he couldn't know if he didn't try.

"We... could go with her?" he suggested, not really expecting much. Worth a shot, though.

It was a lucky thing that Dante had found Blaise so early. Otherwise he would be no more discerning with his choice in traveling companions than he had in his choice of romantic companions. Perhaps even a bloodstained, axe swinging Lorenzo could have made a strong enough case to keep him in tow. He was zero for...they had lost track of the number of bad decisions he'd made since he woken up. All of them? All of them counted other than staying with them, and they were self aware enough to know that when they were the most responsible hands you'd managed to hold your day had gone horribly, horribly wrong. "We could," they agreed, "but we won't." They took one of their hands in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You have walked enough for now, mon ami." His hand lifted to meet their bowed head for a kiss. "Rest. That is why we came here."

It was a shocking turn from their anger at the pier, but a measured one. Blaise's contempt had not diminished. Dante was incompetent, fragile, distracting, foolish, compromising, weak hearted, yes all of this and more, but before all of that he was theirs. Faith and Juliette could try to sink their hooks into the flesh of his lonely heart, but they would not find purchase. Their pull was too fleeting. Blaise knew him, and as much as they could be the terror that spurred him on through his frailty they could be the peace that comforted him into recovery. There was both reason and relief in their proposition. Judith had provided neither.

That did not stop them from giving her a restrained smile, however. Dante did not know they were playing a game, and they had no intention of cluing him in. "There are many houses. You're welcome to the others. But, if you must be moving on..." If their bluff was called they had the advantage of numbers if Julia tried something, and if not she would be gone. Either way, it would probably be best if they stayed with Dante tonight. Nothing would take him from them easily, especially not some also-ran lobbyist for the...hmm, what was it? If they were forced to place a bet her aura had the distinct mix of calculation, desperation, and specificity to make a perfect failed Latin Club Treasurer, but they would not place money on a gut read. They had not given Julissa much thought before today, and they did not imagine their analysis would deepen any further.

They hooked their arm through Dante's and led him further into the village. "Let's go house shopping."

((Blaise d'Aramitz Continued Dormire))

Juniper, that could have been the president wannabe's name. Something-with-a-J, Sargent.

She made little note of Faith's departure, nor of Sargent's easily batted away attempts at negotiations. Everyone going their respectively separate ways was unspoken relief. Camila's thin trust, cling wrap already tiredly taxed until the breaking point could be felt with any little tug extra, wouldn't need to be stretched any further.

She already couldn't quite abide by Blaise being the one to manhandle Dante away from his own naive impulses. Camila could have called it jealousy, could have called it fear. If she'd been made of sterner stuff she would have known for sure, but her irritation was the most generic prescription. A salve to some malaise whose underlying cause she didn't quite know.

She hated her thoughts being so preoccupied. The best she could do to the contrary was to pretend she could be otherwise productive. She waited in her little hidden alcove for the footfalls, til certain that Sargent would be leaving them alone. That accomplished, she rejoined the others. Keeping her distance all the while.

((Camila Cañizares continued in Dormire))

Juliette kept, she thought, an admirably straight face. Surely Faith hadn't meant what she said.

It was enough to fill her with revulsion, even as she mused that there was a good chance the girl actually hadn't meant it. Faith was someone who could be careless with words, at times, who didn't play with hidden meanings and euphemism with quite the level of intent she could've, and perhaps should've. She seemed far more prone to putting a bullet through your face than a knife in your back. But was that read an insight unique to Juliette, or would others—they who fancied themselves more cultured and intelligent than they were, who thought the tap of baseball bat against palm amidst negotiations a poetically subtle bit of nuance—misunderstand, honestly or by choice?

It really didn't matter. Faith might as well have commanded the sun to rise in the east.

Juliette dragged her shoe against the gravel for a second, and looked up at the sky. She was getting something out of this after all, getting a chance to test herself and steel herself and make her commitment. She would not receive credit for this little sacrifice of humanity, because nobody would know what she surmised and consciously chose. It would, she thought, perhaps do something to pad her eventual resume with the game-runners, if she could explain properly her actions and her inaction and her understanding and the twisting it caused inside her. She wanted to say it was nothing like pain, but that was a lie. It hurt. Maybe she should talk to the cameras directly, make sure this wasn't for nothing, but then what if she was wrong, or someone was quicker on the draw? And besides, it was a bad look, one that closed more doors than it opened.

Maybe, she thought, returning her gaze to Dante, impassive as she surveyed his broken weakness, it would be best to reiterate Faith's statement, stripped of the plausible deniability of the mismatch with the girl's style. It would be a mercy, in a way. An end to suffering. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Call it a last troubling gasp of weakness to be snuffed, or at the very least examined closely in the future. She just couldn't do it.

"Be careful, and be safe," she said to Dante, instead, genuine and with a gulp and a nod. The pair turned and walked off together, the only way Dante could move, as a burden.

Juliette spun on her heel and stalked off, glad to leave all of this.

She had little doubt the pair hobbling away from her would still be together when next she crossed their paths, tomorrow morning on the announcements.

((Juliette Sargent continued in Like A Pack Of Wild Dogs))

Oh. Well, that could have gone better, but it could have gone worse. At least Blaise wasn't upset with him.

Dante waved at Juliette, too, as she walked away, hoping he'd see her again. She'd heard Faith's plan, after all, so if she wanted to find allies and shelter and meet up with all of them again she'd know where to go, and if she didn't, well, that was up to her. It wasn't like he could force her to do anything. But he did feel guilty, watching her walk off alone. He couldn't imagine waking up alone and having remained alone all this time, trying to deal with everything that had been dropped on them all by himself. There was something sad in her expression that he couldn't quite place, as she turned away from him. But there wasn't anything he could do.

That was the worst part about the leg thing. Not the pain, not never being able to run again—those hurt, yeah, a lot, physically and otherwise, but not being able to offer anything, not being able to help anyone, that was the real killer. He could blame Blaise, he guessed, if he wanted to do that, for not letting him help, but it wasn't their fault. They were trying to protect him, and he knew they were smarter than he was, and that the things he wanted to do were probably dumb and wrong. He wasn't sure who he could blame for anything he was feeling, other than himself.

Was kind of hard, walking with Blaise as his support, height difference considered and all, but he did his best. He realized suddenly they were walking away from the house, and away from Camila, but when he turned to call out for her she was already there, following quietly behind. He was able to smile again, then. At least the three of them were still together. That was a start.

"Yeah," he said to Blaise. "S'probably more people around. We can look. And then rest."

He hadn't wanted to bias Faith in her search or anything, but he knew who he was looking for. Aurelien could be anywhere, he wasn't the kinda person who was afraid to rough it out in the forest or wherever, but he could still hope.

He glanced back at Camila.

"Uh... you need help with your shirt?"

>> Dante Valerio continued in Dormire