Survival Of The Fittest

((In order to expedite things, I have had Tiffany get lost in the caves for an unknown amount of time.))

"The exit is right over here!" Tiffany called out to the others as she scrambled past some rocks.

She'd actually gotten somewhat lost in the tunnels earlier, missing the turning that would have taken her back to the groundskeeper's hut, but hadn't admitted it. She'd led the others on an uphill climb and as luck would have it, there was another exit just out the side of the mountain.

Tiffany sat down to take a rest. She had no idea what the time was, but it was dark outside, with the sun at the edge of the horizon - either sinking or rising. She couldn't tell which.

She yawned, "I'm really tired... you think we should camp here or something?"

((Quincy Jones cont'd From Bats & Rats & Blind Cave Salamanders))

He was still following Tiffany, not really caring if any of the remaining group were with him or not. He'd written most of them off as dead weight, and it was obvious that some of them, like Gloria, would end up being more dangerous if they weren't put down. The only concerns he was feeling about it were everybody else's reactions if he were to put somebody down, and how easily he was coming to the conclusion that he would need to kill.

He put the thoughts out of his mind. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to it. And if it did, then he would deal with it then. Right now, he was just glad to be out of those tunnels, and back into normal light. He'd lost track of how long he'd been down there, and the dim light wasn't giving any real clues.

As Tiffany sat down and yawned, he moved over to sit beside her. As far as he was concerned, she was in charge now. She was the girl with the plan, and he was happy to follow whatever she suggested. "Sure, we can rest here. You're the boss!" He half smiled at her through his tiredness, and wondered what Felicia would make of his closeness to another girl.

He took the opportunity and the light to finally search through his knapsack, with 'B030' shakily scrawled on the front. He wondered what the number meant. Was it a sort of seeding system? Was he the 30th most likely to succeed? In the end, it didn't matter. He looked inside the bag. Besides the food, water, flashlight and first aid kit he'd expected after the briefing, there was what he had to assume was his weapon. An Etch-A-Sketch. Fucking Joke.

Now he hoped that Gloria would come and follow them, stick with him. More than ever, he wanted her gun. He figured that in close quarters he could take anybody else from the year group, even if they had a knife, but he needed something with range if he was going to get anywhere.

He turned from his bag and looked at Tiffany, obviously exhausted. "You get some sleep if you want to. I'll protect you."

Tiffany gave Quincy a soft, gentle smile. The sucker was falling for her and hard. He'd already called her his boss, a sign that she was doing well with her manipulation of him. These first few moments of contact were key. If she didn't play her cards right, she would eventually lose him to his ex girlfriend, if she ever decided to show her face, that is.

She watched as he searched through his bag and suppressed a laugh of scorn at his puzzled expression over the etch-a-sketch. His lack of a weapon was an opportunity for her. The best way to earn a person's trust was to make an outward display of "trust". She pushed her bag over towards Quincy.

"I... I got a big gun in mine." She murmured, "I don't know how to use one, though and since you're going to protect me... I mean, if it's okay... with you, protecting me, that is. You can have it. I trust you."

Time to play hardball. She needed this guy to lust after her, to depend on her beyond a normal level. She yawned and stretched, allowing Quincy to have just a little glimpse of her midriff before her hands tugged her shirt back down.

"Sorry. Didn't mean for that to happen." She said, putting on her most embarrassed face and yawning again "You look tired too... but... if you insist... We should... take... turns or something..."

She looked at Quincy, assessing the situation, then gave another little yawn and curled up on the ground. Within moments, she was asleep, with nothing to protect her against the elements. She had considered cuddling up to Quincy, but had realised that he wasn't quite ready for it.

There would be time enough for that soon.

((Jackquard "Jackie" Broughten continued from One of Three.))

((OOC: VERY long flashback through day two, as she was stuck in "One of Three" through almost all of September. The current stuff is sectioned off at the bottom.))

Jackie had left from the site of that terrible incident at least a full 24 hours prior. Most of the time between then and now was filled with sleeplessness, pain, and heartache. Her first order of business had been to get as far out of sight of the building as she could. Mostly to remove herself from the other girl's view; but partially to save her own butt on a small subconscious level. In an act of sheer brilliance, the girl had remembered to retrieve her hacksaw from the site before leaving, but at the cost of what little food and materials still lied in her stomach. And as soon as she had collected herself to the point that she could even feasibly realize it, she was famished.

And there she found herself, by the foot of a river. And for the first time in an hour, she looked over her own reflection in that pristine water. The sun reflected off of the occasional fresh tear that dotted her cheeks. Her face was spattered with blood, as well as he neck and her clothing from the attack that took the life of another. The hacksaw dangled gingerly from her almost limp fingers, the shine of fresh red adorning the blade as well. Her jeans were tattered from the thought filled run through the trees and the briers; a run she actually didn't remember. In fact, she didn't remember much. She remembered completing the deed that sealed her fate. She remembered thinking to herself. And then suddenly, she was here.

And so she rested for hours. First, she bathed; a luxury she was sure she wouldn't see again for days to come. The cool waters were refreshing, and thankfully she even had the foresight to bring two changes of clothes in her oversize purse on what was supposed to be a weekend long camping trip. Using her old clothing as a towel, she changed into her new clothing, tossing the old into the river, watching the jeans sink straight to the bottom and the shirt slowly float down river. Almost symbolic in a way. However, that hoodie went straight back on. She needed a reminder of just what killing was, and the sparse bloodstains would serve as just that. As much as it pained her to see them, it would force her to think about her victim every single day that she still drew breath. The hacksaw was washed clean, and then with nothing more pressing to do, she sat.

And the next three hours of her stay at this strangely calm riverbank were spent dipping from thoughtful incite to inconsolable sobbing, and back again. For all intents and purposes, the once Ice Queen of Bayview was now acting as if she were truly Bi-Polar. However by the time dusk began to roll around, she heard what sounded like footsteps. Whether those were imagined or not, she didn't care to find out. Dumping the contents of her purse into her issued Daypack, she tossed the bag into the river and fled down it's banks, the soft mud and dirt serving to soften the sound of her escape.

Next came the attempts at sleep. Really, each session of transit was gone from her memory as she spent so much time thinking; no, arguing with herself. The vision she had had of her innermost being in the millisecond before her victim's death continued to replay itself in her head.

"...The life of another had to be given so that you could understand... And this is the price you will pay... The burden that will hold on your shoulders for the rest of your days..."

The one quote that rang true, over and over. Logic versus emotion; compassion versus the will to live. This was what constantly plagued her right until dusk when she first attempted to sleep. This endeavor proved fruitless for the girl however, as every time she closed her eyes, the scene played itself out again. Either reliving the killing, or just staring at the broken and bloodied form of that poor girl. And when she finally did fall asleep through her body's sheer, pure fatigue, it was very short lived. Dawn had just cracked as a speaker hidden somewhere in the forest or the mountain itself cracked to life.

And it was here that she finally learned the name of that poor girl she had sent to the great beyond.

Jackie mouthed the name to herself, her voice a whisper drown out by more of this announcement. But it was as if she was finally giving the girl respect and mourning long past due.

"Maria... Santiago..."

Not a week earlier and this name wouldn't have meant a thing to Jackie. But here, nestled at the foot of the mountain where she laid, this name was her entire world. This name affected the core of her very psyche. This name unlocked something powerful, something that she had not experienced in over a decade. Emotion. Sorrow, regret, anguish, mourning.

Pain burned in her heart. And restlessness consumed her as she stood, slinging the drab green bag over her shoulder. She knew that three things were now true, and would be until she died. First, that she was a murderer. Second, that she didn't deserve friends, happiness, nor did she deserve to ever see her home again. And finally, that she needed to move. When she moved, it hurt less. While she ran, winds at her back, her mind was slightly more at ease. There was no way she could be forgiven. No way she could forget. She just knew that she needed to move, to make her time more bearable until she inevitably lost the game of which she had become nothing more than a cog.

---((Present Time))---

So walk she did, straight up the mountain. For someone as nonathletic as the girl, the trek took hours upon hours. And as dusk fell upon the girl yet again, her thoughts swimming about in circles, for at least the tenth time that day, sat to rest. But again, rest did not come to her. She laid on the hard, unwelcoming dirt, her lumpy and malformed bag serving as the closest thing to a pillow she had. The sun was just again beginning to rise as she heard a voice coming from below her.

"The exit is right over here!"

How had she not noticed the girl before? Presumably she wasn't alone, but how had she missed this? She must have been lost in thought quite a bit deeper than she thought. And so she laid, listening to the exchange, letting what would happen happen. Jackie had no idea what exit the girl was referring to, but her original hunch was proven correct by a much softer voice following behind. However, after a few moments, one particular phrase caught Jackie's attention to the point where her weary arms forced her sleep deprived and guilt addled body to sit.

"I... I got a big gun in mine. I don't know how to use one, though and since you're going to protect me... I mean, if it's okay... with you, protecting me, that is. You can have it. I trust you."

This girl had gotten a Gun. Something Jackie would have loved to have had two days ago. However, now with the advent of Maria, she wanted to be as far away as these implements of death as she possibly could. Peering over the rock face that seperated her from the other two, she spotted Tiffany. For some reason, this girl's name actually came to Jackie's mind, although she couldn't place where. Her partner however was blocked off by the natural features of the mountain, and soon the weapon was out of her sight. Jackie didn't deserve friends or allies on this island. She deserved to die. But one thing that didn't cross her mind in the countless hours of thought was now on the tip of her tongue. What do I do now?

Approach the pair and beg to be killed?

Approach the pair and beg for forgiveness?

Or just sit and wait here, and hope that the two innocent, frightened people below her would be able to dodge having to see a monster on this day.

((Continued from Somewhere That's Green))

The shotgun had some theoretical advantages, such as range if you got into a fight. The shotgun also had at least one major disadvantage, namely not being easy to conceal...it was a clunky thing that was good for killing and not a whole hell of a lot else.

That would be why Bill Davis is obviously carrying a gun as he makes his way across the island: He can't hide it, he sure as hell isn't ditching it, which leaves "obviously packing heat" as his only real option.

"I... I got a big gun in mine. I don't know how to use one, though and since you're going to protect me... I mean, if it's okay... with you, protecting me, that is. You can have it. I trust you."

Shit. I'm not the only one with a gun here. I'm not planning to use mine, but...be careful...

"Hey!"

Waving and being nice-and-obvious so he doesn't provoke a panicked attack from sneaking up on someone, Bill hollers to Jackie, Tiffany, and Quincy from a safe distance...enough that he can start shooting from a safe distance if things go wrong, and enough that he's not seen as an immediate threat. After all, the last thing he wants to do is to get into a fight right off...that would be bad, and it would probably make him waste ammo on top of that.

Tiffany's charms were beginning to work. Quince looked at her as she stretched, then away as she pulled her top back down. She was very attractive, and he was pretty sure that she was trying to flirt with him. But under the circumstances, he wasn't certain, and he didn't want to push for anything when he didn't know what response he would get. Besides, there was still the matter of Felicia. He'd seen enough films to know that if he did try anything with Tiff, 'Licia would turn up at exactly the wrong moment,

Of course, she had also given him something much more than a quick flash of her belly. That she trusted him enough to give him her gun was real powerful. Probably very dumb, but powerful. It showed that she wasn't worried about him, and it gave him the upper hand. As she curled up on the ground beside him, Quince looked through her bag and located the firearm. Good, this meant that he could dump Gloria sooner than anticipated. Assuming of course that the rest of the crew from the tunnels showed up.

A sudden shout made his head shoot up, his hands bringing the gun with it. He'd used a gun once or twice before. Mister Costelli had taken him along to a shooting range a few times, something that he'd enjoyed. He could see the figure that had made the noise yelling and waving from atop a small outcrop, but couldn't make out who it was. They were silhouetted against the sunlight. He still didn't know if it was rising or setting.

Quince glanced at Tiffany still asleep beside him. He didn't want to wake her, but wasn't sure of how to play the situation. He stalled. "Come down here. Nice and slow. Keep your hands where I can see 'em. Now, who are you, and what do you want?"

((Sorry for the double post. I need to get Quince away for a little while, but don't worry, I'll try and get him back))

This was embarrassing. He told himself that it wasn't fear. It was just the result of the length of time he'd been out, and the inevitable. Quince suddenly found that he needed to pee really badly.

He could hardly do it here. Beyond the fact that he was being watched, there was also the matter of Tiffany. If she woke up and saw him with his dick hanging in the wind, what would she think? He gently shook her.

"Tiff, I gotta go take care of somethin'. I'll leave you with the gun just now, but I'll be right back. I won't be long. If you need me, just whistle."

He placed the gun down nest to her, and walked away, looking for some privacy, promising himself he'd be right back.

((Quincy Jones cont'd in Searching for clues))

Tiffany jolted awake as Quincy had to leave. He handed her the gun. Mutely, she accepted it, not quite really sure what was going on due to her drowsiness.

She blinked a few times and watch him disappear into the bushes.

"Wai...t..." she murmured in protest.

But he was gone. Had her plans fallen through? Why would he abandon her at this crucial moment?

"Shit!" Tiffany swore, unaware that that was probably what Quincy had gone to do.

And as she was so carelessly leaning over the small ledge that separated her cliff from there, she heard a voice coming from yet another path down below that she hadn't even considered. What was worse was that he was staring directly at her. At all of them. He was waving, running up the hill like he was just greeting a couple of friends from school, shouting as if he hadn't seen hardship yet on the island.

Seriously? You're going to get yourself killed! Attract attention to yourself, hell, nice job attracting attention to the rest of us.

In an instant her head shot back down as she scooted backwards on the cliff, trying to make herself as small as possible. If she became involved in the exchange going on below... Well, honestly she didn't want to think about it. She was a killer. And killers couldn't have nice things in any sense of the idea. That's why she was here in the first place. She needed to find a nice secluded spot to try and atone and repent for what she had done in the eyes of whatever cosmic powers that were. And then she needed to wait for death.

She waited for a few moments, only granted company by the sound of her breathing and the footsteps of the newcomer as he tromped up the pathway. Closer and closer with each step. However thankfully, he seemed to ignore Jackie for the time being. Maybe he didn't see me? Either way, it was a breath of fresh air. The silence didn't last long however, as one of the original pair piped up, trying to be tough. Trying to intimidate the other.

He has no idea what it's really like... Wouldn't be so cocky; if only he knew...

But just like that, he was gone. The boy, without even waiting for a response, just told tiffany he had to leave and scampered off, her apparently drowsy hand now holding the weapon. It was just like he had gone. "Who goes there? I don't wanna die, you deal with it princess!" Passing the buck, giving up the responsibility. If this were another time, Jackie would at least feel a little bit resentful towards him. As logical and cold as she was, she still had a heart before this whole ordeal. It makes sense, even on an evolutionary and biological level to follow through on a promise; implied or not. And it was exemplified in the game they were now stuck in. Follow through on your promises that mean little now, gain trust, gain allies, survive for longer. The same strategy their ancestors used, just applied in a different way. However now, she didn't deserve to judge. She had just taken a life. And with that comes a heavy burden. She was the worst kind of monster, how could she condemn or commend any action done by any other human being? Even those on the announcements who have killed more than her... She couldn't bring herself to believe that anyone on the island but her could have possibly killed in cold blood. Even Reiko, who had apparently killed four people... No high school student was that much of a monster. No one but her, that is.

And then the memory flashed back in her mind again like lightning. Quick images, fleeting sounds. The sound of the hacksaw hitting flesh, the memory of that one phrase that her broken, insane mind had conjured in less than a nanosecond. The scene of Maria's dead body, hair and blood almost floating in circles around her, signifying twin halos to prove exactly what her fate entailed. A sob escaped the girls lips as these images, smells, sounds, and feelings continued to flash through her conscious mind far beyond her control. As if watching the most violent slide-show ever put together by mankind, she was strapped to the chair, forced to watch the deeds she had committed; throwing caution and heed for her surroundings to the wind as she lost control and composure for the umpteenth time that day.

Bill wasn't going to drop the gun...

That's how you end up dead...letting someone else have a clear target at you...

...but he was willing to keep it pointed away from the others. Leaving the safety on, he raised one hand while keeping the gun in another, ready to return fire if things did get ugly. He couldn't return fire immediately as it was (safety being on and not having both hands on the gun meant that wasn't happening), but he figured he'd be quick enough.

"Set the gun down and I will."

You don't think I didn't notice that? You think I don't see the metal gleaming as you got it? I may be paranoid, but it's not like I don't know we're not all going to make it out of here.

He didn't know it was a gun, but he was going to take a wild guess. It was something shiny, at the very least, and he didn't give a damn if it was a knife or a three-ring binder or a golden retriever...let them deny it and go from there.

"Nothing personal, but I have been following the body counts on the announcements, you know?" Not that he knows how many are/aren't dead, but...it's enough. "And I'd rather not be on the next announcement."

Bill slowly made his way a bit closer, walking towards them, trying to balance showing "non-evil" intent and, well, not being a moron. Which, on the island, wasn't exactly an easy task.

Tiffany sat on the ledge next to the mountain. She was tired, but possibly not as tired as Quincy would have been. She clicked her tongue in irritation. Where had Quincy gone? Why had he left her the gun to deal with this... weirdo? Was he really that yellow livered that he'd only have protected her for as long as he was safe?

A million questions ran through her head as she looked down from her perch. She squinted. She couldn't see who the other guy was, but he definitely sounded threatening to her. She couldn't quite make out what he was saying. His voice was echoing off the side of the mountain badly enough that she couldn't hear anything that he said clearly.

Rather than respond, Tiffany retreated against the nearest boulder, pulling the Quincy's and her packs close to her body.

She whistled as loudly as she could. Much as she would love to cast Quincy off like a piece of useless chaff, she didn't have a big enough group around her to be able to do such a thing. Right now, she needed Quincy probably as much as he needed her back.

"Quincy! Help! I can't do this alone!" she cried out, hoping that her voice would reach him.

If it didn't at least it might make others think that she was helpless and needed protecting. Or perhaps it might lead them to underestimate her. When push came to shove, Tiffany might need to pull the trigger...

...but she wasn't quite sure that she could do it just yet.

((Quincy Jones cont'd from Searching for Clues))

By the time he got back, things had changed. He couldn't have been away for much longer than 15 minutes or so, and the situation here didn't look much like it had changed. The figure still pointed his gun towards Tiffany, and she was hiding in cover, behind the rock she'd almost been sleeping on. He felt a pang of guilt as she cried out for his help.

Still, there had been one major change, and that was where Quince himself was. He'd come back by a different route, and now was behind the armed man, and he had the golf club. He figured that this was the best chance he'd have. He'd already killed two people. What would a third one be?

Tiffany would see. The idea that she would reel away from him in disgust if she saw him kill. Sure, he could play up the Mike's as self defence, and this one as well perhaps, but there was an easier way to play it. He snuck up behind the threat.

"You put the gun down, and we'll make sure you don't end up on tomorrows list. Now, you're outflanked, out manned and out gunned. Be sensible here." Even if the guy moved to turn the weapon on him, Quince was close enough to lunge at him and throw his aim before he would be shot. He hoped.

((Sorry for the hold up. Head colds really muck with your brainmeats.))

This was shaping up to be a real Mexican stand off, huh? They had no idea the power they were playing with. The power to take or give a life... Those weren't playthings they had in their hands. And the way they were treating it like they didn't fully grasp that. Sure, they would say they did if questioned about it. But they would still talk the talk while being fully incapable of walking the walk. Jackie walked the walk. The walk wasn't a proud, mighty, and powerful one like these kids probably thought.

No, it was a limp. A broken, battered, pain ridden limp that she would carry with her forever. She didn't want anyone else to have to walk the walk. She couldn't let these kids throw what little of their lives away that were left. She wanted them to die on good terms with themselves, or their Gods, whoever those might be. She couldn't stay quiet any longer.

She needed to step in. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. But before she had a chance to say a word, she watched that boy from before come back.

What the fuck?

That just baffled her to her core. Was this all a part of some ploy in the first place? The scared little girl act, just so the guy could take 15 minutes to flank their foe while she sat in mortal danger? And now suddenly she couldn't make sense of the situation. No longer was it a naive tough guy, a coward, and a damsel in distress. Now it very well could be a Bonnie and Clyde and a naive tough guy who was about to get brained. The male's conversation was just out of earshot for her, but she surmised it couldn't be exactly pleasant. Especially since the one who left to flank had managed to extract a golf club from somewhere. She couldn't let this happen though. She had to atone in the eyes of the world. Every camera was another eye on her, another window to a higher power than herself; society. While it sounded selfish, she had to atone to society. But for herself. Herself and Maria.

"STOP IT!"

How loud her exclamation was managed to shock even her. She just hoped it would spawn the same shocked reaction in her targets.

"Do you have ANY idea what you're playing with? The power to take a life!"

She stood, her hair frazzled, her entire appearance disheveled and broken. Her arms hung limp at her side, and she shook her head to try and toss the errant strands of hair out of her eyes.

"Look at yourselves, you're attacking each other based on paranoia and fear! Do you really want that blood on your hands for absolutely nothing? Don't be like me, don't be a cold blooded murderer. That's not a brand that I carry proudly, but you heard the announcement. I did what I did. I can't make up for it, I never will be able to make up for it. Taking a life, not even out of fear."

A deep breath and a tear. No one had responded so far. This could either be a really good thing, or a really bad thing.

"Don't make the same mistake I did. You'll regret it for the rest of your days, as few as those may end up being!" She almost felt like she sounded like a televangelist here. Although when you boiled it down, that's all she was right now. Just converting people to peace and level-headed thinking. "Stop for a second and think. All three of you brandishing weapons right now. What has a single other person here done to threaten you that you yourself didn't do to threaten them as well? You brandished your weapons at the other on sight. On sight! Just because they are another human being, they need to be threatened? Seriously, don't give into the game like I did. It may seem logical and right, it may seem like the best way to get out of here. Hell, it may seem like the easiest way. But it's not. On any account. You will NOT be able to live with yourself. You will be racked with regret, you might lose your mind... No matter what, you'll lose yourself. So please, put the weapons down, sit down, and just talk."

She didn't bother preparing herself to run if she was fired upon. She did accept her fate. As long as she tried to save a life, the pain that Maria's soul placed on hers was temporarily lifted. The good didn't cancel the bad, but the good was a start. Right here, and right now.

This felt logical. This felt right.

((Not planning to get inactives on Tiffany, so yeah.))

Tiffany huddled behind the boulder, trying to keep out of sight. The gun sat propped up against a rock next to her, its barrel pointed uselessly against the sky, but just within reach in case the other person decided to attack. She heard yelling, someone yelling about killing.

Quincy had returned, that much she knew. She peeked out a little from the boulder she was hiding behind, hoping that the other person, whoever he was, wasn't a good enough shot to hit her from whatever distance he was at. She quickly assessed the situation and ducked back behind the boulder.

Quincy was behind the other boy, Brian and he had a new weapon. There was another person on the mountain, but she couldn't see where the other person was. Whoever it was, their voice echoed all over the mountain badly enough that she couldn't quite pinpoint the other person's location.

Still, she wasn't about to let things get too much out of control. Quincy was still her protector for this point, after all. If Quincy's earlier behaviour was any indication, she needed more allies, more people to protect her. She called out to him.

The other kid was unlikely to be a friend, though, considering the way he was behaving. She grinned, hiding her face in her hands to hide her smile, then she cleared her throat and began to whimper.

"Quincy! Be careful! He has a gun!" she whimpered, ever the damsel in distress.

Hopefully, Quincy would be smart enough to take the gun. Maybe he'd even be smart enough to let that guy go while other people were watching.

"You put the gun down, and we'll make sure you don't end up on tomorrows list. Now, you're outflanked, out manned and out gunned. Be sensible here."

"You don't want to do that. I don't want to hurt anyone..." Bill's voice is loaded with tension as he says that. "...but how do I know you're not going to shoot me as soon as I put it down? Right now? I've got a gun pointed at someone."

Bill thinks for a moment, trying to find a way out of this standoff that doesn't involve him getting shot. Yes, his gun is probably capable of winning this fight unless there's someone behind him with a gun, and he hasn't heard the person behind him cock a weapon, so...

"Do you have ANY idea what you're playing with? The power to take a life!"

"I'm going to back up real slow and get away from you, and nobody's gonna get hurt, alright?" It's not ideal, it's not what he was hoping for, but it sure as hell beats getting shot or something. Dying is something he would prefer to avoid, after all. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm not stupid enough to let you point a gun at me and drop mine." Beat. "Besides, if I wanted to kill you, I'd have shot you as soon as I saw that gun in your hand."

(OOC: Sorry for the delay...was trying to let T-Fox keep order...*sighs* And of course, two of us jump at the same time.)