Survival Of The Fittest

Who does he think I am? Oh, right. Heh...

Gabriel Theobaldt laughed a little on the inside. His eerie resemblance to one of the more violent SOTF competitors didn't draw the best attention. Well, it was more of a resemblance really... Gabriel had watched with an odd fixation on SOTF Version Two, never missing a single moment. The main object of his fixation was Garry Dodd, the aformented competitor. When he died... it almost felt as if he'd come back to Garry, like he'd regained a piece of what was missing. Of course, the forced psychological examination said otherwise, but what the hell is one of his parents' hired brainmen going to know about this? They believe in their so-called sciences and statistics... drivel. The only absolute is fate, and with it, death.

The terrifyingly Dodd-esque boy bent gingerly down towards Eduardo's face. "Umm... Do I know you at all?" Gabriel stood up, and ran his hands through his dark brown hair (A feature of Dodd he hadn't been able to replicate exactly), looking for the jock that Eduardo had made sure to viciously call out to. Maybe he'd passed by him on the way into the Cafeteria. Well, at least i've got an excuse for that one. Jackass. Who punches someone through a bag of ice?

It took a short time for Gabriel to find an open table, laying down his backpack before walking back towards the boy on the floor, who looked quite wrecked. He'll be a lot more wrecked by the end of SOTF... If it ever comes, which it won't. Freelance was always an option... "Here." Gabriel stuck out his massive arm towards Eduardo. "Let me help you."

It took Eduardo a few seconds to realize that it wasn't Garry Dodd he was staring at, but more of the kid in school who was obsessed with the late combatant. Still, he wondered what Gabriel would have thought about Eduardo's only good friend killing Garry savagely. Or rather, he would have wondered were he not currently preoccupied with his own injuries. He'd not only need another icepack, he'd need someplace to sit or even lie down for the time being. Fate being absolute - ironic as it was - was probably what was keeping Eddie from currently crying his eyes out. As it was, he currently looked injured and quite pissed off.

"I'll fuckin' get up by myself, thank you very much," Eduardo growled, as he slowly tried to sit up. It took him two tries, his first failing because his arm slipped on the puddle, causing a snicker from Frankie. His second try took a bit longer and involved quite a bit of growling and snarling, after which he pulled his backpack down from his seat toward him. It was ilghtly packed today but it fell like he pulled a car from its jack.

Eduardo quickly looked around. The only empty table that could provide enough "comfort space" was the same one that Garry II had placed his bag upon.

"Hurrh...how many minutes till lunch ended again?"

As Eduardo slipped and fell on the floor after his gruff reply, Gabriel almost chuckled. Almost. That old habit died without a fight. Eduardo asked how many minutes were left of lunch, when Gabriel replied playfully from the other table, "Maybe you should fuckin' figure it out for yourself. Try not to fall when you turn to look at the clock." A pair of raised eyebrows and an odd smile from the giant were awkwardly delivered to Eduardo before it quickly disappeared; it was replaced by a quaint frown. "Well, you don't want to get pegged in the head anymore, do you? C'mon over here."

Truthfully, Gabriel really didn't have anything to say to Eduardo at all, he was just longing for some ears to talk off, as his family were afraid of him, and his friends... well, he didn't have any. The plans that Gabriel had disturbingly set out for the rest of his life were full of flaws, and a grey-area, apathetic individual like this boy would be the perfect person to talk to, seeing as how he would probably care less on who gets massacred or kidnapped. Gabriel realized his plans were full of flaws. He knew that he could never know which school the terrorists were to come to next... Though judging from the awful luck he had in the past - Gabriel pushed away memories of his knee injury - it was rather likely, as well as the notion that Garry Dodd's personality had joined him for a reason... He had to win SOTF, that was it. Gabe would eat a rotting, decaying corps-

Armin Meiwes! Hahah! That was it! There was a famous murder 6 years ago, where a man voluntarily had another man eat his castrated penis, then be killed and eaten as well. He offered himself voluntarily... That was exactly what he would do! No strings attached, just a free killer on the island! Life or death, it was a win-win situation for both parties; Danya got to instill terror on the United States by recruiting their own citizens themselves, and Gabriel would either win, or end his single-purpose existance... What would I do without you, Garry?

Gabriel snapped out of his trance of incoherent thoughts, and waited for the other boy to come over to his table, hopefully happy to listen to his disturbing plans, which Gabriel attempted to get imput from as if it were nothing more than a speech.

Eduardo dropped his bag on the table with a dull thud, and plunked himself down onto the seat beside the giant, massage-rubbing his own face with his hands. The ice-bruises were still stinging like all fuck, and lunch break still wasn't over. If anything, he actually wasn't afraid that Gabriel would kick his ass - or rather, he beileved Gabe couldn't do any more harm other than snap his neck. That would be something he'd welcome, although he was always reluctant to try to goad someone into doing that dirty job for him.

Eduardo really could have cared less on whether he was - and how he was - killed or kidnapped, though despite having endured Damien in V2, really had no idea of what he would do were he thrown into another season of that crazy game. And Gabriel always looked like some kind of mad scientist, always brewing up what Eduardo suspected were rather gruesome and disturbing plans of sorts.

He groaned before growling, "Go on..." as if to invite him to continue speaking. It was hard to get anything more than expressions of frustration from Eduardo, as he tried to remember exactly what subject he had as soon as lunch ended...and hoped it would be a subject with a smaller presence of jocks.

The thoughts flowing through the mind of the Cafeteria's resident 'Classic' Sociopath suddenly ordered themselves in a true, cruelly realistic fashion

Logically, I wouldn't have a hope in hell of contacting them, and any attempts at reaching them would have the U.S. Government crawling all over my ass in minutes... A guy can hope, though. Maybe telling this guy my final solution isn't the best idea. Though it'd be nice to get someone a little like me on my side. I've been noticing a destinct lack of a social life recently. Garry's fault? Maybe... I still have to find out more about him... me... whomever.

But luckily, he still had something to 'talk' about, as much as he used to despise the action, it became more and more useful on the road ahead. So would this boy, too. Coming to that, he didn't quite know his name.

"Hey, I know as much as you probably don't want to talk to me right now - given the stinging pain caused by that ass that I passed on the way in... I think. I just figured you'd have some kind of imput on an idea I had... An experiment, you could say."

Gabriel leaned down, and lowered his voice just a bit, enough so that it wasn't heard clearly enough for anyone outside of the two to gather anything from it. "What if... you had the opportunity to, well, be rid of anyone and everyone that you wanted... Would you take it?"
An eerie pause settled over the table.

"What if you had the choice, Eduardo - It is Eduardo, isn't it? - What if you had the choice to make sure they never saw the light of day, or anything, ever again? Who would it be? Where? Why? I'm sure you've wanted to, but no, you're restricted by the laws and moral conventions of society. Unlike say, a contestant of Survival Of the Fittest? To simply tear apart those you despise? Jocks, Emos, anyone who has ever wronged you, or simply doesn't deserve life at all, shouldn't it be taken away?"

Eduardo listened, though he was rubbing his face to try to ease the pain. Gabe was one of the more "obvious" weirdos, and he figured that people like him would eventually weed themselves out of the system of life. It was only when the Garry-fan brought up the "Survival of the Fittest" that Eduardo actually turned his head to face him, leading to that great "what if" question.

If Eduardo weren't in such pain to divert his concentration, he could probably spot at least 5 things on Gabe alone that he could use to kill or at least seriously maim Gabe or anyone else nearby. And that wasn't counting the things around him or in his backpack, none of which was technically worthy of confiscation by school monitors. Or the places where he could apply the right amount of pressure or puncture to achieve the maximum effect. Of course, this was all in Eddie's theory, and such fantasies rarely occurred as much as it used to, even fantasies of revenge.

There were probably hundreds of thousands of schools in the United States, most of which were probably on high alert after what happened last year and the year before (Southridge being no exception.) Perhaps it was rotten luck that Damien's school was picked for the chopping block the year before, because he certainly didn't expect SotF to come to Southridge. If it did...well...it was something he'd never really given much thought to.

"If I could remove everyone who didn't deserve life, the Earth would be barren," Eduardo replied. "Besides which, even without rules, most people...could pre-emptively kick my ass. It's a natural attraction."

Ric hadn't been paying any attention to the various goings on of the cafeteria, and he had deliberately avoided watching any of the violence which had seemed to erupt around Eduardo; the one with the Keis protecting him. Somehow, it wasn't doing all that great a job. Most curious... Still, Ric had done his best not to be drawn in, instead staring rather despondently at the tray in front of him, thoughts boiling around his head and resentment rising continually.

Eventually, it got just too much for Ric, who seized one end of the swath of bandages. The warning; not to remove the bandages for a suitable length of time, rushed through Ric's head but he didn't care. If this wasn't a suitable length of time then he was going to starve. It was something of a struggle to remove the tightly wrapped cloth, but after a time Ric managed it, and the bandages fell down to pool around his neck. He immediately scooped up a sandwich and was about to take a bite and start his first meal in a day or so when he caught sight of his reflection in the shiney tray. It was distorted, but the face in the tray was unquestionably Ric, but not this Ric, it was Ric from six or more years ago.

"It's like my face has been dragged back through time..." Ric muttered, using an extremely obscure comparison. Ric slowly smiled, and with the gap-filled smile, all of his spectres seemed to melt away. For the first time in a period spanning more than a quarter of his life, Ric felt happy.

Ric's face was still far from fixed however, there was still a noticeable dent in his cheek, and of course many of his teeth were still missing, added to Ric's somewhat gaunt appearence and you didn't exactly have a good looking guy. But by Ric's standards, it was a good start.

Ric smiled again.
"Come on then world... The real Ric is back, and he's gonna kick your ass..."

((Boxer continued from Scapegoat))

Speaking of ass kicking, there was someone other than those targeting Eduardo that was in the mood for quite a good helping of some. Perhaps it would have been an exaggeration to say that this someone was causing the ground to tremble in his wake as this leviathan entered the cafeteria, pushing the doors open with such force that they nearly banged on the walls they were hinged to. He walked to the center of the cafeteria and looked around, tensing his fists.

His size enabled him to effortlessly scan the cafeteria's faces like watchtowers. Eduardo was nearby and apparently preoccupied with conversation as well as his own injuries. Of course, Daniel "Boxer" Carvalho was in no mood to inflict or worsen them at the moment, he was after someone else. That someone - or so at least Boxer believed - had inflicted a rather personal injury upon him, though that clearly was not physical. Still, it was something he was going to avenge the only way he knew how - through extreme force. To him, ironically, this was a matter of defending his honor as well as that of his family, who had started to lose trust in him ever since that baseball smashed through his SUV window.

Now if only he could figure out which one of the people there was Ric.

In short order, the lunch laid out before Ric disappeared into his mouth, a feat made difficult by the missing teeth, but nonetheless a barrier that Ric managed to overcome admirably. No food for a little while can do that to you. As such, Ric was just getting to his feet, a content smile on his face, when the doors of the cafeteria came bursting open in a fahsion which turned heads immediately.

Nobody with good intentions opens a door like that; that person is either extremely angry or just about to beat the hell out of somebody. And since the person opening the door happened to be 'Boxer' Carvalho, he would have very little difficulty doing just that to pretty much anybody he cared to. Ric wondered about Boxer, sometimes he was a nice guy and sometimes he was an absolute menace, he guessed that was due to the influence some of the other footballers put on him. Plainly put, some of them were bad apples.

Now Ric faced the prospect of attempting to leave a room past an angry Boxer. The thought that it was him that had so enraged Boxer (or rather, a rumour about him) didn't even cross Ric's mind. If it had, he would have definitely taken cover until Boxer had gone. As it was, Ric now edged towards the door, putting his head into the lion's mouth. The worst thing was; Ric didn't even realise that he was doing it.

Perhaps it was the instinct of his simple mind, but the diminutive student who stood up as he opened the door automatically triggered the guilty reflex despite the fact that there were other students standing up and/or looking at Boxer as he made his rather boisterous entry. It was more of the way that Ric looked at him that seemed to imply that Ric was the culprit. As such, Boxer didn't take his eyes off the boy as he made his way to the linebacker...though he didn't quite expect him to try to sneak by.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Boxer snarled as he grabbed the clearly smaller student by the collar, and stooped a bit to look into his eyes like an angry old man whose house window got smashed in by a baseball, no irony intended. Ric probably would have realized what he was doing by now.

The colossus slowly pulled out the incriminating sphere from his letterman jacket pocket and snarled, "I believe this is yours?" With the size of his hands, the baseball almost seemed like he was pinching a golf ball.

What the fuck!?

Ric had absolutely no idea what was going on, especially when Boxer lifted him clean off of his feet. Ric wasn't exactly small, but he was most definitely scrawny. However, Ric didn't doubt that the huge football player would have been able to lift him even if he did have more weight on his body.

Panic immediately blanked out Ric's thoughts.
Fuck! I knew that that Keis was gonna get me somehow I saw it... Ric blinked once, then smiled despite himself. There was no malicious entitiy hanging around the place, none of the mysterious lights or shadows existed anymore.
"Fixed..." he murmured, before a brandished object flashed before his eyes. Ric focused on it and blanched; baseball and anything related to it was anathema to Ric. Moreso tha bats, but most certainly the baseballs too. Ric shook his head violently.
"N-no..." he stammered. "H-haven't t-touched a b-b-baseb-ball for years. D-dunno what you're talking about," inwardly Ric winced at his dreadful stutter. Somewhere along the line he had acquired that. Worse yet, it made it seem as if Ric was lying; badly. It didn't take genius to figure out that the somewhat simple Boxer was going to jump to the obvious conclusion.

Gabriel was startled by a large figure striding into the Cafeteria, throwing the doors open with such force that it'd certainly cause a lot more injuries than what Eduardo had. The monstrous figure, the only person Gabriel knew who was taller than he was; the infamous 'Boxer' Carvahallo, someone that Gabriel wanted to add to his potential hit list. As a matter-of-fact, Boxer was one of the only people that an equally dangerous Gabriel was cautious of. There were times that he'd seen Boxer floor people, on and off the field. It wasn't pretty. What also wasn't an appealing sight was Boxer lifting another student off of his feet. He noticed that boy earlier, Ric. It didn't take much, given that he'd had a nasty bandage over his mouth, which looked rather gristly.

In the few moments it took to notice Boxer entering the room, the figure who previously dominated a large portion of the table sighed, and gazed back at Eduardo. "Well... i'd assume that violent jock Carvahallo is at the top of your hit list? Excuse me for a second, there's something I want to do." Swiftly, Gabe took his cane, and got up from the table, then adjusted the burgandy t-shirt that he was wearing. It was maybe time to finally get to know Daniel Carvahallo... In a matter of seconds, the giant had limped over towards what would be an intimidating figure to others. Of course, Gabriel was also quite intimidating too.

"Hey man, put him down. You really shouldn't have to do this in the caf, probably isn't the smartest thing to do, unless you want to end up like the guy you've got a vice-grip on." he twirled the metal cane, looking at it with a sarcastic curiosity. Deciding against being 'cautious' Gabriel smiled smugly at Boxer. "Look, think before you do something next. Or just think. Either way, it helps."

Gabriel hadn't taken much time to anticipate what Boxer was going to do next, or what was going to happen to the boy that he held in his hands. Though, that wasn't high on his priorities, suprisingly. Confronting Boxer was more about drawing a more personable light to Gabriel than helping Ric. After all, he did deserve some degree of friends; even if they didn't last too long, he thought.

"So, what will it be, Boxer?"

"Look, your ball busted up my car, and there's gonna be a lot more busting unless you fess up." The one advantage to Boxer's mental simplicity was that he literally meant what he said, especially when he put those words into action.

It didn't matter that Ric was no longer in baseball, Boxer believed this was an attack on him directly, a sort of way for Ric to lash out at someone innocent. It was for this misguided justice that Boxer was going to deliver some of his own...and that was before dragging him into the principal's office for vandalism. He wasn't focused on anybody else save for the weirdo who approached him with the cane. Not that he regarded that kid as much of a threat, especially with the cane. Boxer turned to face Gabe, his expression still angry but a bit fatherly as well.

"Don't get in my way, man, this is between me and little Ric here," Boxer replied sternly before pushing Ric back onto the floor, and stooping down so that he loomed dangerously over him. He held the baseball right over Ric's freshly-repaired face like the incriminating heroin at an interrogation and snarled, "So...are you gonna fess up or do I have to make you fess?"

===

Boxer, despite the violence that Eduardo had received from him, was actually far from the top of any mental or physical Dame-list (as he liked to term it). That was reserved for the most populars and the head jocks of the football team. Right now though, Eduardo simply slumped forward and buried his face in his arms, trying not to notice the conflict lest he get dragged into it himself.

"Oh, I don't really think so. So he busted up your car. Instead of busting up him, bust up HIS car. Or if you already have, stop busting shit up! Eye for an eye, not an eye for a goddamn leg." The metal cane Gabriel had previously been twirling was now lightly pressed against Boxer's chest. Boxer was actually taller than Gabriel, surpassing his 6'10.5 by two inches, at least. Regardless, he wasn't afraid of Boxer. Perhaps this wasn't the best thing for Gabriel.

"I'm getting in your way, if you like it or not. I don't really think a messing with his face is really neccessary. I mean, come on! Don't you have any sense of... decency? He just was getting better, now you want to ruin his face a little more? Shit, why don't you just blow my knee off with a shotgun, and cut Frankie Solano's vocal cords out while you're at it? Don't you know when to stop, you sick fuck? Getting your kicks out of making people suffer, thinking because you're a damn giant you can just push people around? Sorry, but the world doesn't work like that, and i'm not really suprised you don't understand that fact."

The rant briefly paused as Gabe got a look in his piercingly green eyes, and a threatening tone took to his voice. This rant was, of course, completely against everything that Gabriel believed; the more wrong information people got about him the better.

"For the last time, stop abusing this guy and move on, or there's going to be a lot more violence than a baseball bat to the face."

As he drove this last threat home, he pulled his cane towards his side in a nonthreatening manner, but only so that he'd have the strength of both arms to drive the steel bar towards Boxer's face or groin should he need to.

Ric shot Gabriel a look, but couldn't manage very well due to the massive hand on his collar, and Boxer being right in his face as it was. Despite the situation Ric began to laugh; right in Boxer's face, which was sure to rile him up even more. That, Ric reckoned, was the kind of guy that Boxer was; nothing bugged somebody with Boxer's nautre more than being laughed at. At least, that was Ric's thoughts on the matter...

"W-well what ch-chance does that g-give me then!? I'm f-fucking screwed either way! Either I t-tell the f-fucking t-truth, y-you don't b-believe me then y-you beat the sh-shit out of me. Or I f-fucking lie, t-tell you I did do it and y-you still beat the s-s-shit out of m-me!"

Once again Ric pronounced his newly acquired stammer absolutely awful; where the hell had he picked that up? In all honesty speaking badly should have been the furthest thing from his mind, especially as Gabriel had decided to get involved with that metal cane with his. This could turn nasty in a hurry. Quickly Ric moved on, the more he spoke the less chance Boxer would have to hit him.

"A-and wh-why the h-hell would I d-do that? My b-beef is w-with O'Cann and th-the b-b-baseb-b-ballers. I-i've b-been a-at the s-same school as h-him for y-years. If I was g-gonna take it out o-on th-t-them I w-woulda d-done it ages back. D-don't you see B-Boxer? M-me g-going a-after you d-doesn't m-make any s-sense!"

Words would only do so much good here. It wouldn't be long before the tension eased; or snapped.