Survival Of The Fittest

(Jonathan Lancer continued from Sound and Fury)

It seemed kind of ghastly to be grateful that he'd found a place that only held two dead bodies of his classmates, but hey, they were a week, a fucking WEEK into this game. "Badass" Johnny Lancer had long ago stopped trying to apply the rules of normal society to the situation. He didn't recognize either of the kids lying on the dingy jailhouse floor.

Probably for the best that I don't know 'em.

Johnny zipped open the pack of the slight, bullet-riddled boy with the olive skin lying near the entryway. He didn't expect to find any weapons just lying around for him to take. Hell, he'd already been gifted with the shotgun he had, and wasn't particularly interested in turning his person into a small armory. No, Johnny Lancer was just REALLY fucking hungry. He was a big guy, and he'd polished off his loaf of bread, those awful crackers, and the couple of protein bars he'd had the foresight to bring with him two days ago, when he was still wandering around in the jungle. The nonstop rain had allowed him to keep his water bottles filled, but that didn't do a thing to stop the endless gnawing in his gut.

One full water bottle, and one tin of crackers, still mostly full. Good enough. He moved over to the heavyset kid lying near the stairs. No questioning how he'd died. His collar had---

Wait a minute, wasn't this place a dangerzone?!

Outside, the morning had started to turn to afternoon, and yet there was no announcement, no nothing. And although he was PRETTY sure that the jailhouse had been declared a dangerzone last time, there had been no fateful beeping of his collar when he'd stumbled upon it today.

This HAD to be good news. Maybe Danya was having some weird technical problems, or maybe, hell, just maybe the cavalry had arrived. Any minute now the US Army might parachute in and rescue them all, or--

Quit dreaming, kid.

Or maybe it was all another game by the guy. Maybe this, maybe that. Maybe if he could just stay alive, he'd find out. But what about everyone else on the island?

Maybe he'd think about it further after he'd had something to eat. The big kid's pack had a water bottle that was about half full, and part of his bread, although it had been slightly squashed. He'd also had, holy SHIT is that a laptop?

No, of course not. It was just what looked like a portable DVD player, although the screen was cracked and the whole thing looked to be broken. Poor kid must have toppled down the stairs when his collar went off, or something. Probably he was trying to get away.

You keep dreaming there, Badass Johnny. Maybe the next dead body you'll raid will have a fully charged satellite phone, hey you never know!

Johnny looked down. The voice, the doubts, had kept creeping up on him, especially since he'd been separated from Mark, and what's worse, they kept speaking to him in Mark's voice. That was more than just a little bit creepy, it was.

He dropped the useless DVD player on the ground and stood up, carrying the bread and water.

Well, now what?

What, indeed. He was alone now. He'd spent like five days or something trying to find Mark, his ONLY friend out here, and then they'd been together less than an hour before seeing three people get killed, gone off running into the jungle, and getting separated because he was just too hungry and tired and out of breath to run fast enough. He'd tried calling out to Mark, but no answers. And now what? Was he dead, or hell, even worse, was he playing? Mark was the smart one, he was the tactician, he always had that look to him that suggested dark thoughts might be going on underneath his smile.

Johnny stared at the piece of bread in his hands. It was flattened and looked to have a bit of mold growing on the ripped end. Wasn't stuff supposed to be OK to eat as long as you took the moldy parts off?

"Fuck, I don't care." he muttered aloud, then tore his teeth into the other side of the bread. He ate most of it, washing it down with the last of the fat kid's water before looking back down at the corpse.

"Thanks, I guess."

Well, now you've really lost it, Badass Johnny. You're talking to the dead people. Good job, you're making a fine example of yourself out here.

The voice was right, of course. Johnny might have been big and bad, the strong but silent type, starting left tackle on the football team, but he had no idea what he was doing out here. His one attempt at diplomacy outside the barracks had ended with three fucking people, his classmates, dead, and him separated from his only friend. He couldn't protect people, he couldn't help anyone, hell, he had a shotgun and a scarred face, who the FUCK would even trust him out here?

Johnny looked around the jailhouse area. Maybe he could barricade the door or something, just sit alone and wait until, what exactly? Wait for help to magically arrive? Wait for the place to become a dangerzone, like the kid on the floor might have done? Wait until someone who's playing comes along, shoots him in the face, says "Thanks for the shotgun, Two-Face!", and goes off laughing to kill some more?

So much uncertainty
I don't like this feeling
I'm sinking like a stone

Each time I try to speak
There's a voice I'm hearing
And it changes everything

No. He wouldn't do that anymore. He needed to do something. He needed to find Mark, he needed to find others, he needed to be what he was. A protector. His size alone might be enough to dissuade people from attacking others. That's how he'd defused situations like that in school. He couldn't talk, he wouldn't fight, he didn't think that his writing skills would be much help, he couldn't convince people in any other fashion.

Watch me
Crawl from
The wreckage
Of my silence
Conversation
Fading

But first, he'd start by doing something for the two kids here.

Dragging the big guy by his arms, he slowly moved him into the nearest cell, hauling him up onto the dirty cot. His hands slipped and squelched in the blood nearly covering the kid's upper half. Whatever, he had an extra shirt in his bag, he'd change after he was done.

"Well, uh, ashes to ashes. Dust to dust and all that." A career in public speaking was clearly not in Johnny's future. "You didn't deserve this. None of us did. I'm sorry. Uh, rest in whichever peace your beliefs will offer you." He pulled the cot's one sheet over the boy's dead eyes.

Tear down these walls for me
Stop me from going under
You are the only one who knows
I'm holding back

There. Badass fucking Johnny Lancer, he'd done one good thing. Sure, it was a eulogy for a dead body, but it was a start at least. He slowly made his way down the hall to the other one.

He could handle being alone, he'd been alone most of his life. But he couldn't just do nothing anymore. The prison walls seemed comforting, a safe place to burrow and hide, but he knew he couldn't stay long. He might still survive this game. Maybe the army would swoop down, maybe Danya had abandoned ship, maybe pigs could fly. But it was probably more likely that these would be the last few days of Johnny Lancer's life, recorded for people around the world to see.

He'd be judged by the world for what he did in those last few days.

It's not too late for me
To keep from sinking further
I'm trying to find my way out
Tear down these walls

Outside, the rain continued to patter down.

((Countinued from 3's and 7's.))

The rain hid Dawn's tears but her eyes, visibly bloodshot, betrayed her. She was against a tree, trying to repress being left behind. At this, she failed miserably. Nature, in all it's beauty, did anything for her. Even the blissful, trekking squirrel couldn't improve her spirits. It sickened her, truth be told. That nature itself would be blissfully ignorant of all this suffering, not caring one bit about a single one of them.

Not wanting to deal with anger as well as anguish, Dawn reached inside her bag, checking her inventory. Immediately, she knew something was off. My gun. Evan… Dawn formed a fist and started to softly hit herself on the forehead, repeating stupid, stupid with each impaction. After the twentieth round, she sighed miserably. Mom? Dad? I don't know what to do. I don't know at all.

A shiver besieged her. So abruptly, it was startling. Holding herself, she spied upon the jailhouse, not too far away. Well, let's get out of the inside. Without a second thought, Dawn rushed there. Where there was no rain. And no trees or squirrels.

Inside was yet another boy that Dawn didn't know. (Is there anyone at this school I know?) As a reflex, she took out her notebook. Hi, my name is Dawn Beckworth. I'm deaf and was all she wrote until the reluctance and sobbing overwhelmed her.

What am I doing, she pondered, nervously. I'd be a burden. Just like I was to Evan. I'm weaponless. And I'm bound to get killed away right. So what's the point.

But I want to live. Oh god, I just want to live.

Dawn finished the sentence, settling on a simple I need help. She handed the notebook over to Johnny, along with a smile. Of course, it felt strained and foreign on her face, and Dawn just knew it'd look fake. But it was the best she could muster. Though even that woun't matter

Wonderful eulogies there, Badass Johnny. I'm sure that you lead those lost souls to their eternal rest through the sheer power of your magnificent words.

Johnny had pulled the sheet over the smaller guy on the cot nearest the door, and was changing his shirt by the stairs, pulling on a plain red T-shirt that was one of two clean one's he'd kept in his pack. He tried to ignore the Mark-sounding voice.

Oh, that's right. You don't really BELIEVE in death. Hey, as Dickinson said, denial is the only fact perceived by the denied...

Hey, red shirt was good. The blood of other people's bodies wouldn't show nearly as much.

I mean sure, you saw your own brother blow his brains out, but he's not REALLY dead. He's just in the Everlands, right Johnny?

Johnny didn't have any time to answer himself, because just as he was walking down the hall, contemplating how to properly wring the neck of a disembodied voice, the jailhouse door banged open.

"Uh..." Not the quickest response to what might be certain death. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, wiping his bloody hands and forearms with his old shirt, and as he dropped the bloody and useless shirt to the ground, he glanced behind him and saw his shotgun sitting next to his pack, way back by the stairway.

Congrats, Badass Johnny. You're caught without your weapon.

But it didn't take Johnny long to see that he probably wasn't going to need to point anything deadly at the newcomer. She was a short girl with long, wild red hair whose beauty (to Johnny) the rain and filth of the island had failed to steal away. Johnny stood still, letting a second pass. Then, he slowly moved his hands away from his body, trying to show he meant her no harm. Of course, there was still some blood on his hands. And the scar tissue on his face. And the girl looked terrified out of her wits. Oh, this was going SPLENDIDLY.

"Uh, hey! Hey, my uh..."

Ok, the girl wasn't paying any attention to him. Instead, she was fiercly scribbling on a notebook page, at least for a moment until she suddenly seemed wracked by sobs. Johnny took a few steps forward. He had no clue what to do with this girl. More than that, he knew how he looked, and the last thing he wanted to do was charge up to her and have her run out screaming. Luckily for him given his inaction, she (mostly) blinked the tears away, then finished her line and handed the note out to him.

Taking another step forward, he cautiously took the note and read it. Why exactly was she writing notes?

"Hi, my name is Dawn Beckworth. I'm deaf and I need help."

The thunderclap went off in Johnny's mind.

She was DEAF? How?! They were seriously sick enough to put a deaf girl on this hellhole? Christ, what if the jailhouse had been a dangerzone? Would Danya have just laughed his ass off as her head seemed to randomly explode? What was next, a wheelchair kid? Maybe a retard, oh THAT would be fun and games all right. (Johnny, being a big lug pacifist and all, was not exactly a keen viewer of the previous versions of the game)

Johnny came one step closer. She had to have been very strong to make it this far. Shit, she was probably stronger than him.

She was looking up at him now, trying to smile.

He wanted to just take her in her arms and hold her close, to be able to tell her that everything was going to be fine, that he knew what to do. Of course, he had no clue what to do. He had no real plan, he only wanted to do, well, prove himself, he guessed. Justify his life up to this point. God, that sounded cheesy.

Was this what he was looking for?

At least he'd found a fellow writer, Johnny thought lamely. He always carried a pen in his pocket.

"My name's Johnny. Don't mind the blood, I'm not playing."

What could he tell her? She's safe? Don't worry? Could he even say (OK write) with a straight face that he could help her?

Maybe all Johnny could say was the truth. Maybe that was the best he could do.

"I'm here."

He handed the note back to Dawn. As he did, he tentatively reached one big hand down and placed in on her shoulder, trying to offer some comfort.

He hoped she wouldn't feel his hand shaking.

{{continued from Kids with Guns}}

Noah trudged grimly through the woods, still using his harpoon as a walking stick, and to push through various obstructions as he went. His brain had gotten tired of mulling over Vera's death, and started looking for other things to think about, eventually deciding to play Holiday in Cambodia on a continuous loop

Well, you'll work harder
With a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers
Till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake

Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things d-

"Oh, cut that out." He said to himself after about the fifth iteration. It wasn't a song that he liked all that much, and his brain beating him over the head with it for lack of a better thing to do was starting to piss him off. As soon as it stopped, though, an image of Vera's body back at the cottage came back, and he sighed. Seeing that had changed him; was STILL changing him. He had tried to keep an optimistic outlook throughout the game. The army would come and rescue them. It was only a matter of time. This wasn't the first time this had happened, after all, and each time the US government is figuring out his patterns, how he operates, and using that to find him and get the jump on him. And until then, he and the others could find a way to escape, or at least stay alive. But it had been over a week, and things only got worse and worse. Friends were turning against friends. Innocent people were suddenly picking up guns and killing each other. He still desparately clung to his naive optimism as best he could, but he could feel it crumbling under him. How much he wanted to just throw his inhibitions away and just give in to the game. He already had one person he was dead set on killing. And once he killed her, what was one more? And one more after that? And one more after that? There were certainly a lot of people on the island who deserved to die for the things they've done here. Harry, Riz, Wade, Bobby. But then, wouldn't he be one of those people? Killing a killer is still killing.

Finally, he spotted a building in the distance. Maybe they're in there. He thought. They probably wouldn't be. This island was huge, and finding John and Kyrie would simply be too convienient compared to what he's had to put up with thus far. Still, it was worth a shot.

"Uh, hey! Hey, my uh..."

Noah stopped his approach to the building. That definitely wasn't John's voice. Suddenly he realized that he had a fair amount of blood on his clothing from handling Vera's body. He might be able to pass that off by pointing out the injury on his arm, but it was still pushing it. He decided to try it, anyway, rolling up the torn sleeve on his jacket to make the bloody bandages on his arm more obvious before stepping to the side of the doorway, poking his head through the doorway, ready to pull back if anyone tried to cut it off or something.

"Hey, I'm not playing." He said simply. "You mind if I come in?"

Standing there in the dark jailhouse, Dawn felt very cold. The rain soaked into her clothes. Even as he was writing, a slab of cynicism was slithering through her head. She dreaded to read what was on the paper, thinking it'd be something cruel.

"My name's Johnny. Don't mind the blood, I'm not playing. I'm here."

Dawn was so happy that he was willing to help her, she almost cried. Such a nice guy, she thought optimistically, trying not to recall that Evan was also a ‘nice guy'. He wouldn't be playing me on. He wants to protect me, I'm certain of it. That's just so…so nice

Dawn blushed when Johnny placed his hand on her shoulder, reddening slightly. Her timid disposition would've made her shy away from Johnny. Yet she did not and full heartedly welcomed it. Plus, in this cold place, it was pleasing to feel warmth, though faint. Maybe it was that warmth that gave the notion. How should I repay his kindness to me? What can I possibly give him-

Dawn saw that Johnny's attention was directed elsewhere. Turning, she saw a boy's head, poking out of the doorway. Dawn wasn't sure how to make the situation. She shouldn't be trusting people off the bat... but he looked innocent.

Spontaneously and speedily, Dawn took wrote down a message and passed it to Johnny. It read He looks like he doesn't want to wish us harm, u agree?

The girl, Dawn, she hadn't shied away. Well, that was good at least. In fact, she seemed grateful, happy. Probably for the first time in a while. It wasn't a happy game.

Well, obviously.

Clap, clap. Very astute observation there, genius.

She'd reacted well to his message, and his touch, and Johnny could feel that he could trust her. It could be the start that he'd been looking for over the past week.

The start? More likely it's the start of the END, Johnny. In case you haven't realized, you're almost certainly going to die, and soon. Especially if you're dragging people around while you wander aimlessly.

Because he truly did just want to help, any way he could. What else could he do on this island? Maybe he couldn't lead an army against Danya, but if they just kept alive, maybe they could get out somehow, or hold on until rescue. He looked down at Dawn once again. Her smile. Maybe even...

Then the new voice spoke up from the door, asking to be let in.

Oh? And what EXACTLY did you expect to happen there, hmm Badass Johnny? Did you think she'd just throw...

Johnny cut THAT thought off immediately. If he thought he could trust the new guy, he'd let him in. He still, perhaps grudgingly, had to believe there was some safety in numbers.

He looks like he doesn't want to wish us harm, u agree?

Johnny glanced at the note, then tried to get a better look at the newcomer. He wasn't making it too easy, being careful enough not to just waltz in to what might be a rather gruesome fate. Well, smart guy at least.

Congratulations, it's someone you vaguely recognize! Three cheers for you!

Johnny thought he'd had a class with him at one point, although beyond that he couldn't say much. He was a funny guy, right? Not someone Johnny would peg as a player.

Yes Johnny, THAT'S the thinking that will get you far in this game. As your life's blood spills out, you'll be able to think to yourself, "Duh, but I didn't peg him as a player!" Just HOW many kills does your football buddy Darnell Butler have, again?

What the hell was his name? Nick or something? Norah? No, girls's name. Nate? Norris? Ah, forget the name. He'd promised he'd try to help people. Hell, Noah or whoever was like a foot shorter than him anyway, and if he was some kind of Bobby Jacks-esque murderer, he'd be shooting first and introducing himself later. And if he was planning on any other kind of assualt, well, he'd be in for a rude surprise if Johnny got to the shotgun.

Norbert, maybe? Wait, who the hell would name their kid Norbert?

Johnny quickly wrote below Dawn's message. While he was getting his shotgun, he'd have to get his notebook out as well. If any important things were being said, he didn't want her being left out.

"Agree. I've got a gun back by the stairs. Be ready to run there JIC"

Handing it to her, he motioned Dawn back a step, then faced Norm at the door.

"Yeah, come on in. Share your story and all, we'll do the same. Uh, I'm Johnny." He motioned. "This is Dawn. You're, uh, Nolan? That's probably wrong, I'm godawful with names, sorry.

And, if you do, y'know, feel like coming in and going psycho killer on us, I mean, I AM big, and armed, so uh, that'd probably be a bad idea."

Johnny tried a tired smile on for size.

And to think that up until the last minute, he wasn't even going to go on this stupid trip in the first place.

"It's Noah, actually. Noah Jacobs." He answered, stepping into the building, the spear kept in clear view. "And don't worry. I'm not dumb enough to start anything with someone who's packing heat. I'm actually looking for some people. I hope you've seen them. John Sheppard, Kyrie Joesph and..." He stopped for a moment. "...Lex Machina." He decided that he should probably keep his quest for unholy vengeance against Lex a secret for now. No telling how they'd react to that. "You see, we got separated when that crazy bastard Harry came at us with a shotgun, and now I've got to find them again."

Noah looked between the two. He sort of recognized the boy, but then again, with that face he hardly blends into a crowd, while the girl he didn't recognize at all. He got to wondering why she hadn't spoken yet, not quite getting the importance of the notebook she and Johnny were passing back and forth.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot. "So...you guys have any plans? Maybe we could help each other out." He would definitely need some firepower if he was going to take on Lex. Vera was shot, no doubt about it, and unless he got lucky and caught Lex by surprise at close range he would be screwed in a confrontation with his current armaments.

"Agree. I've got a gun back by the stairs. Be ready to run there JIC"

It took a few seconds longer to get what JIC meant. For Dawn, it was so distracting that she didn't even process the note. When she finally did, a hint of a frown appeared on her. She severely doubt (or hope) it wouldn't come to that. Involuntarily, she faced the stairway, clutching her pendent.

Standing there in the back, watching Noah (who she still didn't recognize) explain, Dawn could only return to her interupted thoughts. I need to repay Johnny, but how? I've given my only weapon to Evan. I'd be no use in a fight. All I could possibly offer is my drawings, my necklace, my…oh. Her face reddened spontaneously. Her hands went to her face just as fast, trying her best to hide the shame. She was thankful that Johnny wasn't looking her way, else she'd redden to her hair color. Usually, a notion like this would have no place in the nature freak's mind. Nonetheless, it was Nononono, what am I thinking? What'd happen if mum and dah saw me doing that? They'd be so ashamed with me and I…I-

Yet deep inside, a curiosity was definitely present. Though for the life of her, she couldn't pinpoint why. Maybe it was that Johnny was accommodating and assertive, and despite the scars, was fairly attractive. Maybe it was the prospect of dying in this horrible place. Or maybe she wanted to connect with someone. Whatever the case, a desire was burning inside of her, flaming fast and stronger with each heartbeat.

I'll ask him later, she decided, reluctant but delighted.

Well, no crisis situation this time. Noah was looking for friends. Johnny couldn't remember from the announcements exactly who Harry was, but he supposed it didn't really matter. Just another player he needed to avoid.

Yup, just keep on guard there, Johnny! You've achieved the vaulted position of "meatshield" now, and you've gotta keep your piece protected. Hey, remember what I told ya when I convinced you to go on this trip?

Oh, this was SO not the fucking time for that, evil voice. Besides, it's not like she could ever...

Johnny shut his eyes tight. Back to business. He knew Lex; well, he knew OF Lex. Most people did. She seemed the type who tried too hard to be an outcast, the type who would hold it against him simply that he was on the champion football team. Kyrie Joseph didn't ring a bell. John Sheppard, though. That gave him pause.

Johnny's relationship with the rest of the football team had been pretty simple. He showed up to practices and games, did his part as probably the best player on the O-Line, and that was that. Hell, he'd made sure to get on the bus that DIDN'T carry the rest of the team, and figured that the rest of them didn't have any idea he was even on the island. Despite his peripheral vision problems (and lack of leadership ability), he was good enough to gain the spot at Left Tackle, tasked with protecting the QBs blind side.

Not that you'd ever be good enough to be a starting tackle in college, of course. Plus, a guy as good as Digaetano didn't exactly NEED protecting.

The rest of the team recognized his importance, but for the most part they didn't like him much, and they certainly didn't try to hang out with him. Oh sure, Digaetano buttered him up whenever Johnny made a good play, but that was just star player, team leader BS. Johnny could probably count on one hand the number of teammates he'd truly liked and considered good guys, even if they weren't exactly friends. Darnell Butler (Who was apparently off killing people), Jason Foley (One of the first to die, guess Lombardi was right about nice guys), Rick Holeman (Was he even here?), Evelyn (Ah Christ, he didn't want to think about her. Not dead.) And John Sheppard. Sure, the backup kicker wasn't exactly the most indispensible player on the field, but in the locker room, he was one of the most well-liked and all around GOOD guys there, and he'd done a huge part in keeping the team together and working as a unit. In fact, if there was one guy in his entire class that Johnny would emphatically say could NEVER be a player, it would probably be John.

Without thinking, he'd started jotting down Noah's information in the notebook for Dawn to read, when he glanced up and saw Noah looking at them. Yeah, the expression on his face was a bit odd. He probably thought they were writing in some paranoid secret code or something.

"Ah shit! Uh, sorry I didn't mention it, but Dawn's deaf. So that's the, er, reason for the notebook and everything. If you need to say anything to her, you've gotta write it down.

Anyway, I haven't seen any of them, but I know John from football. If he's out there I wouldn't mind meeting up with him."

The offer seemed sincere enough to Johnny. Dawn came first, but as long as Noah was on the level, he'd be more than willing to help him out.

As long as it doesn't interfere with your Prime Directive, eh Johnny?

It did seem kinda weird that a group like that would be travelling together, an outcast like Lex, a funny guy like Noah, and a football player like John. Johnny glanced down at Dawn as he wrote. Of course, he wasn't exactly one to talk.

His name's Noah Jacobs. He's looking for some friends of his.
John Sheppard - I know him, really good guy
Kyrie Joseph
Lex Machina

They got separated after a guy named Harry attacked them. He's looking for help, so we can go with him, if you want.

Johnny paused a moment, then added one last thing.

If we go and anything seems wrong, we can signal each other and get out of there.
I just want to keep us alive, and I don't want to kill anyone to do so.

He passed the note down to Dawn, then turned to Noah.

"So if Dawn's up for it, yeah, I''ll come with ya. I mean, right now I'm just looking to help out. We've gotta keep people together, y'know? Keep them, egh, I dunno. Safe. Sane. Or whatever. I think we all just need to keep alive as long as we can."

{{OOC: Skipping over Neu as per his request}}

Noah was a bit surprised to hear that Dawn was deaf. Well, that would explain why I haven't heard her say anything yet. And the notebook, for that matter. As Johnny wrote down what he had said and showed it to Dawn, he nodded his head to his response. "Alright, then. Should we head out now, or wait for a bit?" He preferred to head out now, though he figured he should wait to see what they wanted to do first.

His name's Noah Jacobs. He's looking for some friends of his.
John Sheppard - I know him, really good guy
Kyrie Joseph
Lex Machina

Of those three, Dawn knew one very well: Kyrie. Granted, Dawn would say that's one of her better friends, so that made perfect sense. She may even go so far as being her best. They're love for nature united them. Though to be frank, Dawn's on the obsessive side compared to Kyrie. Kyrie...

Dawn resumed reading Johnny's message. They got separated after a guy named Harry attacked them. He's looking for help, so we can go with him, if you want.

If we go and anything seems wrong, we can signal each other and get out of there.
I just want to keep us alive, and I don't want to kill anyone to do so.

Dawn wasted no time in responding. She was amazed how fast she could write at that moment. Maybe

Of course. Kyrie is my friend. If Noah's looking for her, we need to help him.

But I understand what you mean.

Dawn was just about to hand over the message. All she had do was to hand it over. Yet that temptation reappeared and excruciatingly so. I need to just wait. We have so much on our plate that adding this would complicate things...

but... I'm really want to know. Now.

But she didn't feel ready to ask directly. So Dawn wrote can I ask you a '?' and rushed over to pass the notebook over.

Of course. Kyrie is my friend. If Noah's looking for her, we need to help him.
But I understand what you mean.

can I ask you a '?'

Dawn had seemed a bit apprehensive as she passed the note to him, and it caused Johnny to pause. Did she think something might be up with Noah?

Johnny was not naturally a trusting person. A life mostly kept to himself combined with some less than stellar childhood memories had mostly made him uncomfortable that others were laughing behind his back, or harboring ill feelings. These feelings were slightly muted by the times Johnny had reached out to the rest of the world, his friendship with Mark and the teamwork of the football team. But it shouldn't have surprised many that he'd misconstrued Dawn's body langauage as some sort of suspicion towards the newcomer.

You sure that's all it is, Johnny? Frankly, she's acting like I've seen YOU do in the past.

After all, he'd had a lifetime of disacknowledged affection towards others blocking his way. And it was affection here. Maybe just because Dawn was there, representing warmth and life in this stinking, wet place of death. But whatever the case, from the moment she'd walked in the door, Johnny had been struck by her. He knew he couldn't offer much, but she'd accepted him as a friend and protector, and Johnny couldn't dream of being able to offer any more.

He looked up. Noah was asking whether they should leave now or wait, and if something was funny about him, Johnny didn't want to arouse his suspicion. He spoke carefully while he jotted down his reply to Dawn.

"Yeah, we're down for it. Might as well head out now, I mean there's nothing keeping me here. Uh, just gotta grab my stuff."

Sure thing, ask away. I'm just going to get get my stuff from the stairs.

He passed the notebook back to Dawn, then moved to the stairs for his bag. If it was something private or if she thought something strange was up, he figured she'd come with him to ask the question.

He grabbed the military shotgun quickly and glanced back, just in case Noah decided now was the time to go psycho killer or something.

Keep it low, don't start getting jumpy and go pointing it at him now.

He did lift it slightly, just to show what he had. "Guess I drew the long straw, huh?"

Grabbing the other bag, Johnny was going to just return to the front of the jailhouse, when he remembered his notebook. Water, food, last shirt, first aid kit, the gun case and a bunch of accessories Johnny didn't care to know too much about, map, flashlight, random stuff he'd tossed from his bag, ah there it was.

He pulled his notebook out and stuffed it into a pocket. Then he glanced down at the thick stack of papers underneath.

[font=courier]The Everdreamer
by Jonathan Lancer[/font]

Ah hell. He hadn't thought about that in a couple days. Why the hell had he brought that? He'd started work on it when he was 16, with fantasies of it being the next Eragon or Harry Potter or whatever.

Ain't it just your luck that you finish your first crappy book the week before you die, Johnny. Hey but look on the bright side, I bet Danya will publish it and make a posthumous bestseller out of it!

Heh. Maybe she'd be willing to read it. If they ever got the time. He zipped up his bag.

(OOC: Sorry for the crappy post. Blame it on lack of inspiration)

Noah quickly looked out the door as the crackle of the speakers heralded the morning announcements. He stood still as he listened to Danya list off the dead, breathing a visible sigh as Vera was mentioned. Even though the list covered the last two days, the sheer number of people listed was downright ridiculous. It was disheartening to say the least, even more so when the last person listed was the infamous Neil Sinclair. Shit. I guess that leaves SADD out of the question.

What came next really made his blood boil. Not only did Lex get away with killing Vera, but she got an award for it? Dammit...

Dammit...

"DAMMIT!" Noah's fist slammed into the wall. That bitch was gonna pay. She was gonna pay even if he had to do the deed himself.

It was then that he remembered that he wasn't alone, looking back to Johnathan and Dawn, who were probably giving him an odd look by now. Looks like he had some explaining to do.

Sure thing, ask away. I'm just going to get get my stuff from the stairs.

It was almost like God was helping Dawn out for the first time in week. Dawn wouldn't have been able to write with Johnny was over. She'd turn brick-red in no time. With the comfort of privacy,

Johnny, you're a really nice guy. You are helping me out, though all I can possibly be is a hindrance. There is no good I can offer you survive this island. All I can do is draw and get myself lost. So, that's why I want to offer you something. Though you may decline it.

Giving her hand a minute to rest was a good idea on Dawn's part. Mostly, for a hand cramp on her part. But also Dawn didn't know what to write. She didn't want Johnny to see that message right away. It just struck her as impolite and possibly awkward. So stared at what she had so far, Then a clever idea arose.

Dawn drew an arrow below the text, indicating towards the next page. To accentuate it's purpose, turn to next page was added.

Turning to the next page, she wrote steadily and carefully Johhny, do you want to

She paused, flustered: she didn't want to write ‘sex'. Dawn's not prudish, just innocent. Ultimately, she decided on a simple sleep with me?

Fast as a rabbit, she flipped to previous page and rushed over to Johnny. He held a notebook, which perked Dawn's interest. The Everdreamer? Now, Dawn was really interested. Dawn tapped Johnny's shoulder, passing the message over. Only he seemed to be paying attention to something else. Noah? Yet he was attuned to something. Dawn turned her head each other way. Still, there was no one in that room. What is going on are we being attack-

Wait, Dawn began recalling. The announcements. Of course. On please don't bring any good news. Like there'd be good news on this island.

Noah smashed his fist into the wall. The gut-reaction for Dawn was trepidation. Until she saw the aguish on Noah's face. But then another fear reared it's ugly head.

Did someone... someone di- She stopped there. Dawn believed that if you think in particular manner for too long, it'll happen. Wether it is positive or negative. Dawn didn't want anyone Noah was searching for to die, Kyrie especially.

Dawn wanted to ask but how can she? It was moments like these that make her realize how cursed, how restricted of an individual she was. These limitations made life almost unbearable to her. All could do was wait. To wait for their responses. And that was it.

(OOC: Edited since I've realized I hated the way I ended this post. Doesn't change the content in any significant way, though, so Llama's next post still makes sense)

Good morning, children! I'm so sorry to have left you alone for the last couple of days...

Well, shit. So much for the coming rescue.

Johnny could see Dawn jotting down in her notebook as he gathered his stuff. It was funny, she probably didn't even know about the lack of annoucements the last couple days. And he wasn't sure she would have even wanted to know. It would spare her the disappointment that Johnny felt once the PA system sparked to life. Sure, he'd pretty much come to terms with the fact that he'd probably be dying here, and soon. But still, there had been that slight hope.

He could see the look on Noah's face as well. It had to be rougher on him, he was a lot more likely to be friends with the dead than someone like Johnny was. Even so, he could glimpse the faces of so many of the dead as Dayna jovially read them off. Eicca, the big Finnish guy. Raven Lawrence from English class. Evan Angler, that kid who always hung around with Digaetano and McCallum. James Martinek and his girlfriend Bree. Izzy Cheung, the martial arts girl he had a crush on back in 10th grade. And, last but not least, the one and only Neil Sinclair.

"Well, so much for SADD." Truth be told, Johnny's encounter with them at the barracks had left him less than impressed with Sinclair and his group's chances of accomplishing anything, but it was still a kick in the rear to know he was...

--oh, just wait a fucking minute here...

Oh, and Miss Machina, please head to the Graveyard to collect your prize for winning our best kill of the month!

Johnny didn't even have time to wonder why Dayna thought a whole month had gone by.

He was lying to you the whole time Johnny boy.

Dawn had passed her notebook to him, but he couldn't look at it right now, and he hurriedly tossed the rest of the stuff back into his bag and stood up. Lex was a killer? And Noah was, punching the wall? What the HELL was going on here?

Without thinking, Johnny lifted the shotgun to waist level. He wasn't aiming it threateningly with his finger on the trigger, but he wanted a damn explanation. He wasn't going to let himself get played for a fool. How could he even have been so trusting of the guy in the first place? People on this island couldn't get that close, that quickly.

"Alright. ALRIGHT, Noah. Now I can see you're a bit upset. But you know, maybe before you lead us off to find your friends, MAYBE you'd better either explain why you're palling around with a killer or just get the fuck out man, cause I'm not dragging us into that-"

He stopped. Noah had turned to him, and Johnny could see the look on his face. It was anger, and rage at something that Johnny couldn't quite put his finger on. But Noah's eyes were also filled with a clear sadness and regret. It wasn't the reaction of a killer. Shit.

Once again, Jonathan Lancer, diplomat extraordinaire. Clap, clap, Johnny.

"Look. Uh, sorry. I, uh, that didn't come out right. It just threw me for a loop. I mean, you hear all those names. The council guys. Sinclair, I ran into his group back at the barracks. Then Machina's name like that. I dunno what your thing is with her. But still..."

He trailed off a bit. Dawn was still looking apprehensive, and he realized that he hadn't had a chance to read her mesage yet. Well hell, it would provide a temporary reprieve from the prior awkwardness.

"Just a sec, Noah."

Johnny, you're a really nice guy. You are helping me out, though all I can possibly be is a hindrance. There is no good I can offer you survive this island. All I can do is draw and get myself lost. So, that's why I want to offer you something. Though you may decline it.

turn to next page

Johnny smiled a bit. Here he was, freaking out at Noah over a name on an announcement. An announcement that could have meant a hundred different things. Christ, didn't Sinclair win one of those Best Kills a few days ago? And yet, the girl he'd know for less than a day was willing to put all her trust in him. He turned the page.

Uh.

Wha.

Buh?

Even the evil voice didn't seem to have an answer. No, she couldn't actually...

Johnny could barely process the information, and he was aware that his face was probably turning red while his mouth hung open like a moron. How could it possibly be that she felt the same way he did? It would be like the princess falling in love with the orc barbarian or something ridiculous like that.

"Uh, you know what Noah? Don't worry about it. I'm uh, yeah. I'm sorry bout the pointing the gun at you thing. You want to, you can talk about it now or on the way, your choice.

Just one thing. We aren't going to the graveyard. You want to go there for whatever reason, you're on your own.

We'll be right behind you."

He turned back to Dawn. If Johnny had been some action movie star, or some charismatic fantasy hero like the ones he'd acted out as a kid, he was sure he'd have said something like "it's too soon, dollface", knowing that he'd get the girl AFTER he saved the day and kicked some bad guy ass. But he wasn't the hero. He was an big, often clumsy, virginal 17-year-old who could barely string two sentences together. And yet she wanted to be with him. What could he say?

Johnny wrote beneath Dawn's message

Dawn..

What in the hell could he say?

...I don't know what to say.

You've been strong just to stay alive. And I'm no big hero or anything, I don't think I can save everyone. I'm just trying to be true to myself and who I am. You've accepted me for that. Most people just see me as some big stupid lunk. And that's all the thanks I expect.

So, I don't want you to think you need do this.

Could he really go further than that? His hand shook.

But Dawn, I have felt something for you, ever since you came in the door. I can't ignore it. Maybe it's just circumstance, maybe it's real. If you do feel the same...

maybe we can find out.

Johnny handed Dawn's notebook back to her. He took her small hand in his large one. And gave a smile of true affection.