Survival Of The Fittest

So Calvin was now at a crossroads, in front of him was a girl who had an extra bag and he could beg for extra clothes. But was a he a beggar? No, he was a winner.

„I want to die as I was born. Don‘t insult my nudist ways.“

Besides. He didn‘t need to leave the hot spring, right? He could stay here the entire game without freezing to death, or at least until Fey would search for him and give him some clothes.

„You‘re missing out on the spiritual freedom this lifestyle gave me.“

What the fuck was he talking about? He barely knew anything about nudism. It wasn‘t anything he was vaguely interested in. This shit was for hippies and he sure was no hippie.

...this guy was going to freeze his dick off. Or get his head blown off of his shoulders, if this area ever became a danger zone.

And you know what?

Jezzie was gonna let him.

Wanna be an asshole? Have fun when your's freezes shut.

"I'll pass." He was not going to see her strip. No one would, as long as she was alive.

A part of her was tempted to leave now. Let the dumbass suffer because he thought now was the best time to express these stupid beliefs. It would've been a fair, understandable decision.

However...

"Does that 'freedom' explain why you want to fuck Shawn's mom?"

Because...what the fuck was that about?

Calvin wasn’t sure whether that girl in front of him actually believed all that nudist bullshit as if like he and his parents were running around naked in their homes after school in fucking Massachusetts or if she was just fucking with him.

“Oh you know, I‘m in a polyamorous relationship with Shawn‘s mother. Freedom, yeah.”

Calvin pointed his finger at Jezzie.

„You got blood on you, by the way. You a murdering psychobitch?“

"Right."

Sure Jan.

And finally, the question was asked.

She couldn't ignore the issue forever. Someone was going to ask it.

May as well see if naked guy would understand.

Jezzie's gaze drifted to the side. She tried to keep up the unbothered look, but couldn't help the shiver that crawled down her spine while talking.

"No, I'm not a psycho. I just...had to defend myself. From someone that was."

A deep breath.

"It was him or me. And-and I didn't let it be me."

Holy shit. Calvin‘s eyed widened. She...it actually was murder?

Calvin didn‘t expect that. He was saying that as a joke, or rather to provoke her, because he couldn‘t stand her one bit. But her actually having killed someone in self defense? Geez.

„Oh...I‘m sorry,“ Calvin said in a genuine, passionate tone. Like fucking hell, killing someone must be pretty hard, psychologically, especially if it was in self-defense. Must be pretty awful if you had another dude or a girl even in your killcount. Calvin couldn‘t imagine how that would feel like. Must feel crappy.

Banter is fun and all that, but Calvin realized he went too far with it and he felt a little ashamed of himself for treating Jezzie the way he did, now that he knew what the blood on her jacket stood for.

"Yeah, it's...yeah."

She didn't try to continue the conversation as her mind went back. The anger as she kicked up the snow. How it burned brighter by the fuel of the boy speaking to her so casually, as if he was about to drop a pick-up line. The shock of the drop, and the even greater surprise of realizing where the knife had landed. The fear as she attacked head on, not wanting to be stabbed, or strangled, or shot, or just another name on a list-

Jezzie shook her head, her braid whipping about at the sudden movement.

It was okay. She wasn't there anymore. She was safe. She would live to see another day.

And best of all, someone understood. Four sentences was all it took, and someone believed it. And that meant others here would believe it. And so would people back home. And so when all of this was over and she was famous, and when people asked her why she killed that boy in a ditch, she could say this, and they'd believe her, and they'd understand.

And that bit of encouragement was enough for her to take in a breath, and say something before she overthought it too much.

"If...if you change your mind, about the whole nudist thing. I've got some spare clothes. Not much, but...some things."

Maybe it would be better to be selfish. Keep things for herself. Look out for only number one and all that. But...a little gratitude wouldn't hurt, right? And she gave him room to say no. So it might not even matter, in the end.

...cameras. Might also look good for the cameras. She could say that was part of it too, later.

Though even she might not be sure if that's an act or not.

Calvin didn‘t hesitate accepting Jezzie‘s offer.

„You know what? Lately I’ve been feeling like a born-again garmentalist. So sure, if you have some spare clothes that would be pretty nice.“

One thing that Calvin was very curious about, but didn‘t dare fo ask was: who?

She felt tempted to laugh at that. Instead, Jezzie gave a small smirk.

"Figured."

She looked down at the bag hanging from her left shoulder. S037 stared back at her. Almost like an accusation.

She looked back up at the naked boy, grabbing the bag that hadn't been her's before with her right arm, holding it outward.

"I'll tell you what. I have no idea what he might've had in here. If you let me have about half the energy bars and one bottle of water, you can have the rest."

She had her own clothes. She still had all her food and water-hadn't even touched it yet. Most of the other stuff, she didn't need extras.

She would've let him have it all, if she didn't want to search through it herself. She still didn't know what hole guy had been given as a weapon. If it was in the bag, or if it was still with him, hidden on his corpse. This was the closest she could get to finding the answer, apart from going back.

And like Hell was she ever going back there if she could help it.

(S133 Start)

Anthony had really been hoping for negligible senescence to be cracked within the next few decades, and to experience a trillion trillion trillion simulated lifetimes wringing the life, the vitality, the purpose out of every last particle positioned in a way to enact

That goal seemed somewhat less attainable now.

And so he'd trudged through the cold and the hardpacked scrabble, which wasn't nearly so dramatic as trudging through thick virgin snow, a porting a lifesaving machine on his back that would be utterly useless in this place where all but one would be untethered from its mortal coil. The eyes of posterity followed him, and the Great Event lay before him, some yet-untold meeting wherein he would start down the true path of this place, of discovering and meeting and commiserating, of laughing and crying and fighting bitterly for what could only slip through his fingers, of finding meaning, perhaps, amongst the stochastic slaughter.

He came upon a place where man and nature melded, the efforts of either utterly unmistakable. Voices carried from it, or rather tumbled limply from the heights from which they'd been carelessly discarded. He drew himself up—for who else would have the gumption to stride into fate's rough-hewn crucible so proudly?—and stepped toward the source, heart alight.

"Uh..." he said, and forgot to close his jaw again.

This was something he wouldn't have counted on in all those uncountable years of subjective experience he only half-jokingly thought of. He paused where he was, halfway up the steps to a plateau at a cautious distance that might be mistaken for a respectful one. His eyes bounced between them—the girl, the boy. His weapon. His weapon.

"Are you guys..." he called out in a voice that was sure to carry (had they heard him the first time?), and faltered just as surely once he'd pushed out enough to trip over. In danger? Friends? Enemies? Something else?

"...busy?"

She wanted some of it? Sure, whatever, he only wanted the clothes. He was certain Fey would lend some of hers to him if he ever needed it.

Calvin thought about maybe telling Jezzie about Fey and Piper and the starting a campfire plan, after all she got attacked by a boy and had to kill him in self-defense. Some group protection wouldn‘t hurt her and she offered him clothes. Then again, keeping the circle small was probably smarter. You know, there‘s always some time for tribalism, especially in Survival of the Fittest.

„Okay, okay. Deal!“, he said agreeingly to the offer.

Suddenly a handsome boy appeared and asked if they were busy.

„You can join us for our pool party, if you‘d like.“

'Smart choice' she wanted to say.

"Thank you," was what Jezzie actually said.

She brought the bag closer to herself as she unzipped it and begun digging through. She grabbed the water bottle first, pushing aside the first aid kit. Next the energy bars, three then two. She could see some shirts in the bag as well-Extreme something? Whatever, the other guy could figure it out.

No sign of the weapon. Nothing for her to keep for herself.

A new voice sounded, and she looked up to see a new guy. Did know his name either, but seemed friendly. At least decent enough to not start being an asshole immediately, so that was something.

Naked guy made a comment about a pool party, and Jezzie didn't hold back rolling her eyes. Before either boy could make a comment though, she tossed the bag naked guy's way, landing in front of the water.

"Not really," Jezzie said, looking to the new guy. "We were just talking."

And if he thought anything else, she was going to scream.

Though, thinking about it, there was an easy way to prevent such a thing.

"Anyway, I'm going to find some place to rest for the night," Jezzie said, already turning and walking away from the two boys. "Have fun with your pool party."

[[Exit, Jezzie Stark, not running, but taking quick steps, never looking back.]]

Oh thank god, there’s hope he didn’t have to die with nothing on him but a scythe.

Calvin instantly looked into the bag to search for clothes and brought out an EXTREME STEVE shirt, which explained whom this bag belonged to. Kinda weird that ya boi was dead. Calvin and EXTREME STEVE weren’t close or anything but ya boi was a true bro. Calvin even wrote a newspaper article about the local celebrity.

He began dressing himself up in EXTREME STEVE merch and finally freed himself from the pool.

He eyed the handsome boy but then decided he really needed to go back to Fey, he already was late enough. Calvin was reliable so he‘d need to get back some wood. He took the stack of woods Shawn didn‘t steal and put it into his bag.

Then he ran down the mountain, desperately wanting that campfire, baby.

((Calvin Rawls continued elsewhere))

He watched her go, holding back an absolute banger of a retort that definitely would have been a total winner once he figured out where to even start with it. And then it was just them, two guys chilling like eighteen feet apart because one of them had a scythe.

Anthony should have just left too, honestly. It would indeed get dark sooner than later, and it would behoove them all to carve out their little scraps of warmth and companionship ahead of time. But you didn't just walk up to something like this and say hi on purpose and then just ditch, right?

You could, just... he seemed so nonchalant about it, and Anthony couldn't get that out of his mind. Like, he knew Bad Things were happening, right? What if someone came up and shot him? Of course, what reason would anyone have to do so? Sure, it was apparent that he wasn't carrying a gun on him, but on the whole, was what he was doing the excuse some other kid needed to go off shooting people on day fucking one? Probably not. And he looked enviably warm doing it.

Well, he'd be cold later, came the immediate argument. But they all would be, one way or another. And everyone else had a head start on that.

So he dropped his bag and cast about for a nice rock to sit on, maybe not facing Calvin directly but angled enough to get that idea across.

Except he didn't seem to be sticking around, either. Anthony didn't stop him. Maybe they were busy, and he was a big fucking nerd for intruding on them.

He stayed for some time, watching the steam curl incongruously into the chill air, and then left as well.

((Continued elsewhere))