Survival Of The Fittest

“Well, if… I’m getting you right? Then I’d say the last person who I saw talk about something similar… they ended up on an announcement not long after, and maybe that’s not a coincidence?”

Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. All Molly knew is that Marian had declared an intent to fidget around with the collars of the dead, and had died from freezing to death apparently. Molly kind of wondered… maybe she had found something? Or maybe not. Maybemaybemaybe.

“Anyway, I think… if you do that… and if you succeed… that you might not get a chance to try it when it’s useful? Like… you have to gamble. It’s pretty scary, you know?”

She’d told Marian that it was a stupid plan, and she’d died like Molly knew she would. She’d left after trying to explain that, and Mitch had separated and died too. Marian was just a little ‘what if.’ Mitch hurt. Mitch hurt a lot.

“Also, uh, Trinity… I think if it was a scheme, he’d not open talking about corpses. That’s, like… too weird to fake, y’know? If I was going to trick someone, I’d probably be all… ‘oh no, help, my friend is hurt,’ or something like that?”

Molly looked at Norbert.

“Right?”

Then she looked at Lucio, who was still not speaking. Though… now that she listened… he was making noise. Just tiny, quiet sniffles.

“Riiiight? Hey… hey, Lúcio, you know what I mean, right?” Molly said, her tone forcefully bright as she moved closer to him. “Like… I bet you’d come up with a better story, if this was a scheme~”

In-ter-esting.

Not subtle, but interesting.

Norbert shifted a little. That little stunt with his balance had set his knee to aching, and he sort of wanted to sit down.

He also sort of, well, did not. Things had happened since he left that group earlier, and if he stopped to rest, then he would start thinking about them. He'd left, and then-

On task. On task. There were too many people around to let his focus stray. Alexander was planning something, and his evasiveness made the odds very good that it was with a similar agenda to his own. Unfortunately by vocalising literally at all, he'd likely already put a significant dent in his chances. This was why Norbert had been so cagy.

Drowning. What a way to go. Even if the... body had come back ashore, it wasn't the type of study that Norbert needed. Darn it. Where had been dangerzones. Whose collars had gone? He needed to be better about this. Scavenging the plane was always an outside shot.

Molly was prodding at him for a reassurance. He nodded slowly. "Regardless, if nobody has seen her, nobody has seen her, so a scheme couldn't even happen anyway."

Lúcio huffed and sighed at Molly's prodding.

He couldn't be mad at her. She could probably tell he was upset.

Lazily, he turned his head back into the conversation, looking at Alexander.

"Molly's right," he said, uncharacteristically dour. "I could've come up with a better cover story than that. Frankly, I think you should've. We can tell what you want to do, man. And if we can, don't you think someone else can too?"

He rolled his neck, stiff from the cold. There had to be a way out. Not like this though, not so obvious.

"Do what you're gonna do. Don't let me stop you, but I think you should be smarter than that. I don't want to walk away from here, and then hear your name read out the next morning."

There had been enough grief and regret already for one lifetime.

Alexander scowled. To slight surprise, they had understood; then again, he had practically spelled it out for them. To his continued frustration, though, they had rejected his words utterly. He had expected some amount of skepticism, of course, but this was not some amount. This reaction, by his account, was unanimity.

None of them believed in him. Some did not trust him, and others did not trust his methods. His eyes went cold. That had been his best attempt to rouse them with his words, and the only reaction he received was endothermic. It would have been a deception to act as though he was not disappointed by this frigid and forlorn reply.

He had to try, at least—a cursory effort to sway them to his side once more. A second chance that they would never take. But he had to try. He looked back at the plane into its cabin. The cold ocean still lapped at his feet, and a deep chill ran up his spine as if from the water. Then, he looked back at them, face severe and rigid.

"You have all the puzzle pieces already," he said, looking at Trinity. "I cannot say more than that. I understand if you do not trust me, but please, consider it further." His words were almost a plea. "Look at all the evidence and weigh it. I have not killed, and you know that—why would I start now? My motivations are entirely just."

"I don't think I have a choice to the contrary," he stated flatly, his eyes now on the siblings. "It is a gamble, and, yes, it is true; the odds are slim. But so too are they if we do not act. Do you think that you stand a chance otherwise? Are you willing to idly wait for the reaper to come? It is unlikely, but it is the only option we have left."

Alexander's face turned grim, angular features framed by harsh, long shadows. "And, yes, you are right. It is possible that, in the process, I will meet my end. I accepted that a long time ago." One last chance to make them understand. "I would rather die on my feet than my knees, and I would rather stare death in the face as I did."

Then, he turned his face away and down towards the ground. His hand came to rest on the side of the plane again. The glint of the sun reflected on the clear ocean water, sparkling. "I will take my leave and continue my search. If you want to follow along, I am glad for it. But it is your choice, and I will not judge you if you do otherwise."

And then, he turned towards the beach, to the unknown, where the object of his quest must have been. And he stepped forward and began to walk away from the plane, an entity that once served to keep his dreams aloft. If the others chose to add the sound of their footsteps to his, a chorus, he would lead them. If not, then he had tried.

And that was all he could do.

S061: ALEXANDER HAWTHORNE — CONTINUED IN "A Matter of Time"

Melodramatic bastard.

Trinity let out a derisive snort - intentional this time - as Alexander left the group alone, almost as soon as he had joined them. Not the world’s greatest loss, as far as she was concerned. And no, she did not think she would be following along after him, thank you very much. Whilst she… reluctantly had to admit that the others were probably correct, and that his intentions were likely pure, there was still no guarantee of that being fact.

If he required a corpse, and he couldn’t find Ingrid’s before too long, then hell, what was stopping him from creating one of his very own? No, Alexander, she did not know for a fact that you had not killed, because she knew far far better than to trust words with no evidence - from someone she’d had no visibility of for the past four days - and statements made by the duplicitous assholes who’d trapped them out here in the first place.

But if the others were correct - and the evidence did seem to be pointing that way - then… sorry, but no, the answer remained the same to the ‘follow me’ offer. It seemed as though herself and Alexander both saw the importance of keeping their cards close to their chest, but whereas she was trying her level best to prevent her fellow captives from seeing anything more than the bare minimum of what she was planning, he seemed to be prioritising keeping his plan hidden from the terrorists instead. You know; the ones who had full visibility of the island, 24/7? If he wanted that to happen, he couldn’t let slip a word to anybody; he was trying to have his cake and eat it too, let others know what his goal was, and-

Okay, there really wasn’t any need to keep dancing around this elephant in the room, was there? She knew what it was, everyone here knew what it was, goddamned Danya knew what it was at this point, Alexander wanted to try and escape or get out of this game without having to be the last person standing or something like that. That was it. They’d all figured it out! No point beating around the fucking bush in her own goddamn mind, was there?

And that was the worst part about being so downbeat about his whole plan, because - and look, she was keeping this inside of her own head, where nobody else could see - she wanted, more than anything, for there to be some way of escape from this place, if she could engineer a safe exit without having to put herself or anybody else in harm’s way then she was going to take it. She had a gut instinct how this endeavour would turn out, but if there was even a fraction of a chance that she would find something in this plane that just needed a bit of elbow grease and spit to start working again, then she wasn't about to turn it down.

And look. In a few days time, if she bumped into Alexander again, with his collar off, or with a makeshift coracle or rickety radio, she would help him out in a heartbeat. But he seemed fully prepared for the idea that his plan would fail. He seemed almost ready for the fact that his neck could shred into pieces at any moment. That just wasn’t something Trinity could accept. If you weren’t 100% confident in your plans, then she wasn’t either.

“Right. Anyway,” she said, once Alexander had stepped out of earshot. She cast an eye over the group for a moment. All of them seemed to be in a decent state, currently. Lucio had found his voice once more. She wondered, for a moment, whether any of them would take up the offer despite their vocal misgivings.

“As I was asking before, I wanted to know whether any of you had taken a look around in there already.”

A jab towards the beached plane with her spear. As if there was anything else on this beach worth spending time on.

And Alexander was gone again. If Molly heard his name on the announcements in the next couple of days, she wouldn’t be surprised. Just like Marian all over again. She wanted an escape too, but she’d also take a 1% chance of winning the game over an escape plan that had 0% chance of working.

Well… maybe 2% chance if she counted Lúcio as well.

She reached out and gave Lúcio a pat on the shoulder. “We did what we could. Can’t do more than that, you know?”

Like it would fix anything. But she had to look at the upside, if Lúcio wasn’t going to do it for her.

She turned back to Trinity, hands swinging out a little as she rocked back and forth idly, like nothing in the world was bothering her. “Oh, the plane’s what you wanted to investigate? I don’t know much about planes, so I wouldn’t be able to tell. Coach thinks it’d be more trouble than it’s worth, though.” She nodded her head towards Norbert. “Probably knows better than me?”

There he went, off to die like the rest. For a moment, Lúcio considered catching up and stopping him, telling him there was a better, more careful way. A few days ago, he would have, but today wasn't that kind of day. He barely had the energy to handle his own problems, much less someone else's.

He sighed, and without waiting for confirmation from Molly, turned on his heel and began walking away from the group. Unzipping his bag, he pulled out his map, the paper already worn around the edges. Where had they not searched for Aracelis? She was still out there, and unlike a lot of the rest, hadn't continued to kill beyond her first. He had to find her. That was the only hope he still had to cling to.

"You and Norbert have fun with the plane, Trinity," he called back to them. "Molly and I are going."

Normally, he didn't like to dictate what his sister did, but he was finished with this farce. Better to ask forgiveness than permission when you don't want to be somewhere.

((And so he left, a man on a mission.))

And Alex walked away.

The speech was a good one. The problem remained that it was a speech.

Norbert wasn't an idiot, talking to other people would be a requirement at some point down the line. Nobody would be able to pull off breaking out of this place alone, or even just busting up the collars. However, the thing about all of that was attention. Norbert didn't want to say that it all boiled down to attention, just, logically speaking, the more you spoke about aiming to get out, the more focus you'd pull towards you. He wouldn't be that surprised if they had some kind of program running that could pull out specific words and flag them.

So... yeah. Norbert was intrigued and all, but his thought was that Alexander wasn't making the correct play.

Norbert cast around at the others, and nodded in reply to Molly's comment.

"This little guy has been downed for a while. It's partway buried and the sea is all up in its business." He gestured towards the plane. "I haven't actually been inside, but I think it's pretty unlikely that anything isn't corroded as all hell, and with this-" He tapped his knee brace. "I felt like it wasn't going to be worth the effort. Have to be smart about exerting myself, you know?"

Hmph. Had Lucio always secretly been this rude?

He had always portrayed himself as this… beacon of positive energy and good feelings back at school, a positive army of friends who seemed to feel the same way, following after him through the corridors and across the school grounds. Now, though, after seemingly finally finding his voice, he’d been acting much more of a… well, a little brat, for lack of a better term. His criticisms of Alexander’s speech had been, verbally, even more harsh than her own, and now he was dictating his sister’s actions as though he had sole control over them?

Either he was usually a lot better at masking his true intentions, or this island had done a particularly vicious number on him. And Trinity needed no reminding that her own first actions out here had been to scream at the top of her lungs like some paranoid banshee.

Well, whatever. He was leaving now, and if this was how he was going to behave from this point onwards, then good riddance, she said. He, certainly, would not be among the very very scant few people that she had any inclination of wanting to see again. It seemed as though she’d have to find a different exit to the beach, however, or wait until the siblings were well on their way to who-cares-where. The miniscule flicker of hope generated by the plane seemed to have been well and truly snuffed out.

“Eugh. Oh, of course, I figured that would be the case.”

Trinity glowered, and kicked up a small cloud of sand, a petty act that didn’t even begin to make her feel better for a moment.

“You know what they say about things that seem too good to be true. I don’t even want to know how long that thing’s been submerged for.”

She was still sorely tempted to rootle around inside the plane, even with the warnings provided. Norbert’s justification for not doing so himself was sound; clambering around inside a tight, cramped space, wth a leg that was already liable to failure, sounded like a self-inflicted death sentence. She just… needed to be absolutely certain that the coastline had nothing remaining for her. This plane was practically her last resort. She’d seen the state of that radio shack she’d been camping out in previously; anything that looked even vaguely promising, frozen over, unblinking, dead. Useless. She didn’t have time to scour every last corner of every other building on this forsaken island. Especially not if she’d find the same answer inside every room.

“I doubt that our captives would leave behind anything functional, anyway, would they? This isn’t exactly an amateur operation. They’re not just going to leave an… escape pod, or whatever, lying around.”

She already knew what she thought. Maybe getting confirmation from an outside source would be enough. Maybe that would push her to seeking another form of egress.

“Eh? We’re going?” Molly called out after Lúcio.

Lúcio was being fucking weird, that was for sure. Why he’d hit this specific level of depression? Maybe a lack of Aracelis? She wondered why he’d been so positive about trying to approach Shu, and gotten so down about the ones that weren’t being girlfriend-murdering freaks.

She lingered back enough to see if the conversation was going anywhere that might lead to something more, but no… they had as little idea as anyone else, or they were being real good at hiding it. It could be either. But she couldn’t linger around them when Lúcio was already heading off down the beach. If he got out of sight…

“Well, you guys got this handled! Sorry about Lúcio, he probably slept in a bad position or something.” Molly waved. “Good luck with the plane! Or whatever! Rooting for you!” She pumped one fist into the air, trying to maintain an air of positivity to fill the negative void. “Hooah, hooah! Byeee~”

She ran off after her brother down the beach.

((Molly Oliveira continued in Our Conversations.))

Oh, uh, darn. Norbert missed Lúcio looking to bail, and he made a double take when Molly suddenly called out.

"Uh, later!" He hastily waved back at Molly, trying not to grimace. That felt like a missed opportunity, though joining up with the siblings would have had its cons. Molly was definitely the type to blurt out the wrong thing at the wrong moment. On the other hand, he'd barely managed one step down this road yet. He couldn't keep passing up every opportunity.

He turned his attention to Trinity, suddenly his only companion. Yes, she could be abrasive. Yes, she wasn't the hardiest. She was also smart, and smart in ways that Norbert wasn't. Plus, when it came to the physical, well, this brace wasn't for show. He was carrying a much more severe handicap than anything Trinity had on display.

She seemed to agree with his assessment of the wreck. That was a start. Norbert ran a hand through his hair, sort of regretted it. Euch. Grease. "Sure would be convenient, but you're right."

He weighed it up. Trusting the wrong person was going to get him killed. In his absence at the lodge, someone that Norbert thought was trustworthy had broken those bonds. Now, Ashlee was dead. He once again pushed past the urge to speculate, to allow himself to dwell in the guilt, and continued the trail of thought. Maybe that betrayal, whichever quarter it came from, proved the opposite of what you'd naturally start believing. The trust from back home wasn't reliable, maybe not shattered, but dented. So... rely on people that showed that they were reliable. Offer a little trust, and see what came back in return.

Alright. He'd made up his mind.

"So, this is a bust. Want to get out of the open? Maybe we can help each other out, compare notes over where we've been and all. Someplace drier."

Offer...

Logic, reason, and her own well stated and oft repeated mantra of ‘Trust everyone as far as you can throw them’ suggested that Trinity should have taken one glance at Norbert’s offer, told him exactly where he could shove it, and then made her own rapid departure - and if that meant retracing her steps and returning back into the woods, then so be it.

But she lingered, longer than could be explained away as simple politeness or mere indecision. And in that small timeframe, she realised she wouldn’t be leaving the beach alone, now.

She was irritated at herself for it, honestly. Rightfully pissed off, actually, like for god’s sake, it was an embarrassing lack of conviction on her part. The first sign of human life since she’d come to her realisation about the truth of this game, the nature of the announcements, and she was already scuffing out the lines she’d drawn in the sand, making compromises as soon as it suited her.

At least it could serve as proof that, no, she was not ready to take one step further, in her aim to leave this island in one piece. Not yet, anyway.

And, perhaps, she wouldn’t need to be ready. Norbert had been vague with his pitch - talking about ‘comparing notes’, ‘helping each other out’, and nothing more extensive than that - but she got the sense that was being done intentionally so. One reason why she was giving him a shot when she had dismissed Alexander out of hand. It also didn’t hurt that Norbert was… tolerable. Less chance of making her want to blow her own brains out via his mere presence than most. The physical strength, too, she felt as though that would be beneficial; busted knee or not, he was without question several classes above Trinity in that regard.

“Hmm.”

There was a certain look in his eyes, one that silently conveyed the words which Alexander had spoken out loud.

“Alright.”

And one which suggested confidence in success, rather than preparation for inevitable failure.

Even so, this would not be an allyship, and certainly would never evolve to a friendship either. She hadn’t forgotten her own tenets, much as it may have seemed. The fact that Norbert didn’t appear to have a weapon on his person meant nothing; there were plenty of harmful objects that could fit inside a pocket or bag. A call for collaboration could just as easily be a ploy to lower one’s sense of security.

No chance of that happening. Trinity was going to keep Norbert at arm’s - or polearm’s - length at all times. No matter what.

“Feel free to lead the way, then.”

...and response.

Norbert couldn't help a smile from breaking out over his face. Hope aside, he wasn't certain that Trinity would take him up on it. Finally, something tangible and real. He owed the crashed plane an apology; it had given him some progress after all.

"Great! Great. Hold on a sec." He limped his way across to her. Out here wasn't the best place to start, but he could at least help her gears begin to turn a bit. He'd stuck his spraycan through a loop in his pack earlier, and he took a moment to shift around enough to flash the can towards Trinity.

"Kay, let's mosey," he added.

Still had one very grim task ahead of him. Still needed to inspect another destroyed collar.

Steel yourself, Coach.

(continued elsewhere)

Norbert started hobbling towards her. Her fingers instantly tightened around the haft of the spear. Slowly, as he drew nearer and nearer, her stance changed, her already-rigid posture becoming ever more tense and tightly-wound, the polearm slowly rotating down until she was certain she could clock him upside the head if he tried anything sudden.

Had the pendulum swung again? Was she going to be forced into enacting her original plan, the moment she had admitted she might not be ready for it? She supposed that was the rub of the draw. Could you ever truly be prepared? And if that statement was a guaranteed truth, would you be able to follow through regardless?

She wouldn’t be discovering those answers right at this moment, as it turned out. Norbert was moving too slowly to be a threat. His hands weren’t located near his pockets (in… whatever this ensemble was supposed to be), or with easy access to any bag compartments. He was just shuffling around instead, as though he was trying to adjust the straps on his backpack, or scuff dirt off of his shoe. The frown glued to Trinity’s face only deepened.

She saw it then. The object that he had been trying to draw her attention to. Her eyes narrowed. Then shot wide open in understanding.

Yeah. Yes, this could be a catalyst, without a shadow of a doubt. An entire plane to the left of them, a miracle of modern engineering, and her would-be-salvation had instead been in the side-pocket of someone’s rucksack this entire time.

“Of course. I’ll be right behind you.”

She didn’t have any regrets over her actions, though, her willingness to retaliate the moment she saw a threat on the horizon. Complacency meant death. You could play the longest of long games, as long as you had someone in your court. There would not be an opportunity to let her guard down again, that was for damn sure.

She let Norbert walk ahead, until there was just under the depth of a spear thrust between them. Then she followed, eyes firmly fixed on the spraycan as it bounced and jostled with each movement, mind, as it ever was, churning away for eternity.

((Trinity Ashmore continued in Clarification))