Survival Of The Fittest

Corbin took the boot from her, gently rising to sit as upright as he could before setting it on the floor in front of him. The bag of snow outside was not so easily in reach; the other girl, still holding his trident, apparently couldn't be bothered to walk an extra few steps and hand it to him. He watched, irritated, as it struck the floor halfway between them with a wet splat.

He stared at her, said irritation plain on his face. That was only a minor problem, really. The main issue was that glimmering weapon clutched tightly in her hand. He'd been naive to think nobody had stolen it; she'd literally been stealing it the second she happened upon it.

"So," he said, annoyed, "you're keeping that, are you?"

Oooooookaaaaaaay...

Lily glanced between Amaryllis and Corbin, the tension in the air growing thicker by the second. She was somewhat taken aback by the inherent animosity between them, the venom in their voices putting her in a bit of an awkward position.

Like... It wasn't as if she was blind as to why that was the case. The two were polar opposites in almost every way, it didn't shock her at all that they disliked each other on a personal level. But... Surely they realised there were more important things to be concerned about, right? That this wasn't the time or the place to dig up old grievances, to fall prey to the very tribalism that their captors were hoping to exploit?

"Uuuuh.. Lemme just grab that for you" she said, crawling over to pick up the glove stuffed with snow. In practice, it looked pretty pathetic insofar as ice bags went, already going all slushy as she lifted it up with a pair of fingers. Granted, compared to what folk from the more temperate versions had to deal with, it was better than nothing? Maybe?

She stood up, eyes darting between the two again as she paused for the moment. Corbin to her right, Amaryllis to her left, with herself stuck roughly between them. She tried to not overthink it too much.

"Here, it's not much, but maybe it'll help..." she said, walking back to hand Corbin the glove, before glancing back at Amaryllis. "I, um... Just need to have a quick word with my friend, m'kay?" she added, smiling awkwardly and flashing a pair of fingerguns as she walked backwards, before turning and tugging on Amaryllis' shoulder to pull her aside.

"Hey, uh..." she began, clicking her tongue and vaguely gesturing towards the trident in Amaryllis' hands. "What's uh... Like, what's going on here?"

Amaryllis watched the glove shenanigans with a feeling of discomfort. Lily wasn't picking up on it. She seemed to be doing much the opposite, awkwardly naming it and drawing attention to it. She moved closer, and asked her what was going on. There was the tone of an intervention about this movement, a bringing in of all close family and friends and a sitting down to Let You Know We're Here For You. And That You Need To Stop This.

The truth was that she didn't want him to grab the trident from her if she got too close. The reason; because she hadn't figured out what exactly she wanted to do with it, or him, yet. What she told Lily was different, though it was also true.

"If he wants to go it alone," Amaryllis muttered, "I'll give it back. But it makes more sense for me to hold it if he stays. He can use my stick to walk, and then if I have this I'll be able to really help defend us if anything goes down. I can't be caught with nothing again; I won't be lucky twice."

Above this moved the air of a hostage situation. And behind it, another truth; she didn't trust him, and she could not believe that she would ever trust him.

"Fine."

He seemed to deflate, shrinking in on himself and looking to the floor again. He couldn't hear their whispers, but it didn't matter. He'd lost any right to the damn trident the second he'd crippled himself and it was only luck that had stopped anyone from stealing it up until now. He'd been a fool for assuming the care had been genuine; of course it'd just been a ploy to rob him.

"Whatever. Just... take it and go."

He held the damp little bag of slush to his head, wincing a little as it touched his skin. It was a minuscule help.

"Not like it's gonna help me anymore."

Lily opened her mouth, but no words came out. Truth be told, Amaryllis' logic was... Sound, in theory at least. If Cresnar or someone else dropped by right now, that trident would be much more useful in her friend's hands than Corbin's. It made more sense for her to hold it for the moment. 

Whether or not Amaryllis had any intention of giving it back however was another thing, much as Lily wanted to believe her.

"Okay. Okay..." she sighed, taking a deep breath. "I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page, is all. That we're not going down... That path" she continues, unable to say it outright though the inference was obvious.

The big question now was how long they were going to remain with Corbin. It was pretty clear that Corbin and Amaryllis were never going to get along, and in all honesty she didn't want to stick with him longer than necessary herself. In an ideal world they would make sure he was ok, then part ways before tensions boiled over for the good of everyone's sake. God forbid, she sure as hell didn't want her allegiance with Amaryllis to shatter over Corbin fucking Azinger of all people.

But was he in any state to look after himself? Sure he seemed lucid enough now, but with that busted leg he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. If Cresnar happened across him, or the area became a dangerzone, would that then be it for him? She didn't want to find herself stuck looking after someone who actively despised her, but neither could she shake the feeling that leaving him all alone was basically a death sentence.

Before she had the chance to ponder any further, Corbin began to speak up, seemingly giving up on any hope of getting his weapon back. Lily once again found herself unsure what to say next, turning back to Amaryllis to gauge her reaction.

"We are not, in fact, going down that path."

Whatever path that was, Amaryllis only had a vague idea. She was just relieved that Lily could see the logic behind the words. It was an argument, no, an ultimatum, framed as something done in her own best interest. Amaryllis was good at those. And she was even better at them when she was convinced that they were correct.

Corbin was grumbling in the corner. So it was time to go over and inform him of what was to be done, with him, and his belongings. She lowered the trident down by her side, walked past Lily, and stood in front of Corbin holding the slush bottle to his face.

"I'll tell you what I just told her," Amaryllis said, "if you go it alone, I'll give you the trident back, so that you can defend yourself. But if you want to stick with us, it makes more sense for me to have it, so that I can use it as more than a cane if someone wants to make trouble. That lacrosse pole should do, and if it feels flimsy or is uncomfortable, I'll wrap some bandage tape around the handle for you."

She was half-expecting Corbin to scream, writhe in his place on the floor, and curse her, the commie tankie scum, for trying to brainwash him. This was basically what the idea of "brainwashing" came out of in the first-place—American prisoners of war coming back from the Korean War convinced that their country was the imperial core and needed to be either destroyed (politically) or disarmed (physically) for the global Socialist Revolution to take place, or at the very least to let the Korean people figure out their own affairs. What this actually was, of course, was simply humane treatment of prisoners coupled with classes on revolutionary theory. It wasn't brainwashing, it was deprogramming from a cult, the cult of American exceptionalism, of Capitalism, of white supremacy. Of course the counter-narrative, for American civilians, had to be that the American soldiers were being indoctrinated through some secret suggestive technique, as if they hadn't been inured to militarism already through the haze and testosterone of basic training. And now, three quarters of a century later, and brainwashing was something a supervillain did with a big machine to Our Hero in the sequel.

Amaryllis didn't think of any of that now. Instead, she just asked,

"Does that sound fair?"

He seemed to ponder it for a second. Then he nodded gently, still wincing like the movement gave him great pain.

"Okay."

He leaned out to grab the dropped lacrosse stick. He had to admit, it looked like a better crutch than the trident just due to its shape, even if it wasn't much of a weapon. If these two were willing to keep him safe, well, maybe it was a fair trade after all.

"It's... better than being alone."

Lily let out a sigh of relief.

A part of her deep down felt ashamed that she ever had any doubts to begin with, already trying to figure out what she would've done in the event that Amaryllis decided to straight up rob the guy. That was a choice she wasn't keen on ever having to make: Side with a trusted ally doing something horrendous, or come to the aid of a victim she thoroughly disliked on a personal level.

Well, truth be told, she had already made up her mind as to what she would've done had it come to that.

But, fortunately it didn't, so instead she made her way forward to help gather Corbin's things together before giving him a shoulder to grab onto. "Okay there trooper, let's get you somewhere safe..."

She helped him outside, her eyes examining their surroundings. The thought briefly crossed her mind that they hadn't really explored the rest of the building, only for said thought to get violently derailed as a loud gunshot rang out from somewhere else in the research station.

"...maybe for the best if we get out of here" she stated quietly, before gesturing towards the road leading back the way they came.

Not long after they set off, another gunshot rang from the very building they just left.

((Lillian Larsen continued in KILL THIS ARROGANT MOTH ER FU CKER))

At Corbin's answer, Amaryllis had to smile.

"Isn't it?" she said.

Lily sighed, and Amaryllis did not turn around, did not turn even slightly, not until Lily came to help Corbin up and Amaryllis got her lacrosse stick and propped it up under his arm, crutch-style. Somewhere safe was right—not even the trident would help against the ambiguous guns of somewhere ringing through the building.

Only when they were outside, walking away from the research station and back to the old road, did Amaryllis finally turn and look back and think of the choice she could have made.

[Amaryllis Peszek-Byrne continued elsewhere.]

And with that, they were off, all part of a trio now. Corbin almost wondered if this had been the right choice or not; neither girl seemed terribly happy to have him around, and it'd cost him the only real defense he'd had out here. But then it hadn't been a real choice anyway, had it? He could hardly get around all by himself like this, and he had to imagine they both knew that. So this way he gets help and protection, and they get an actual weapon to use. It seemed a fair enough deal if you looked at it that way.

He slipped his boot back on and wobbled to his feet, now supported by his new ally and newfound crutch. It was a better length and shape for the task of supporting him, though its wooden handle was a bit flimsier as well. He supposed it wasn't an unacceptable weapon either, if not as potent as the trident. But he probably wasn't getting that back anytime soon, and it at least was enough for now.

The three of them departed, Corbin doing his best to ignore the gunfire that sent them off.

((Corbin Azinger continued in KILL THIS ARROGANT MOTH ER FU CKER))