Survival Of The Fittest

[[Kyran Dean and Deanna Hull Continued From: Dead Nineties.]]

Almost like he'd been here before. Doing this same exact thing.

No really, it felt like the same darn thing all over again. Over and over again. Like a monkey with a miniature cymbal.

Find a place with Deanna.
Stay in a place with Deanna.
Talk. Eat. Sleep. Keep watch. Rinse and Repeat and oh my god it was killing him.

Hanging out with Deanna was cool and all, but was that it?

He supposed it was better than the alternative if they did in fact find other people, under some unfavorable circumstances considering their overall situation he and his classmates all faced. There was just this tiny, little, unreasonable feeling, nagging at Kyran in the back of his mind.

Maybe it was the obvious 'Adrenaline Junkie' in him that felt this way, but he figured that maybe things should have been a little more - exciting.

This was a death game after all.

Man, what was he talking about?

It definitely was more serious than a death game. That meant he should want things to stay as far away from exciting as possible.

But still.

---

The grocery store was a nice place to stay, Kyran guessed. Much better than the Linens n' Things from across the way.

The plan was to stay here a little while. Rest until dawn and then explorer the rest of the shopping center when the sun comes up to brighten up the interiors through the huge skylight above. Deanna would cover the bottom floor and he'd cover the second floor. Sounded like a solid plan.

Dee had first watch, as Kyran slept or at least pretended too. He managed to nap for about a half hour or so on the laid out cushions and blankets they had used to form impromptu beds in one of the backrooms of the store, probably meant for employees only. After that, Kyran had tossed and turned for who knows how long, before getting up to switch guard duty with Dee. He might as well make himself useful if he wasn't going to sleep.

Now, he was sitting in the service area of the store, just sitting and waiting, waiting for morning to come near the registers.

He spent his time searching through the things in his day pack. In it, he found the white watch he'd forgotten he'd taken with him and removed before pulling Deanna from the ocean that first day. Well, at least he knew what time it was now. But it was going to be a long time more till the sun comes up.

Kyran examined his bag some more and found one of those cups he had taxed from that Aviary-Gift-Shop. Had to keep himself occupied somehow, right?

3:00 AM.

Clap-clap. Tap-tap-tap. Clap-lift-tap.... Clap-lift. Tap-tap. Lift-clap-tap...

4:00 AM.

"I've got my ticket for the long way 'round... Two bottles of orange soda for the way..."

5:00 AM.

Alright, he was getting sick of that stupid song already. Kyran wondered what he could find in this store. Maybe there was some orange soda, or edible snacks somewhere. Holy crap. Orangina. Even better than orange soda. Awesome.

6:00 AM.

No. Not awesome. Not awesome at all.

7:00 AM.

The sun was beginning to pour in through the skylight little by little. It was still dim, but it wasn't quite pitch black anymore, from what Kyran could see, looking out through the formerly automatic sliding doors of the grocery store to the rest of the shopping center.

He wondered if any people had passed by and entered through the building while he found himself a place puke out that disgusting long expired beverage. What was he thinking drinking that anyway? This place was probably abandoned for quite some time. So he must have been more out of it and tired than he originally thought. Just in time for morning too.

8:00 AM.

Deanna was slumbering peacefully, snoring, and head down on a table. He didn't want to interrupt her, but at the same time he didn't want to just sit here any longer doing pretty much nothing. He was going to get himself a head-start exploring that second floor of the shopping center.

Kyran didn't want her to think he'd just gone up and left her to fend for herself though. He carefully covered her with a blanket, taking care not to wake her, and then left his packs as well as his carpenter's hatchet lying at hands reach from her. He could handle himself without it, he was sure.

That way, hopefully she'd know he was coming back in a little while and she'd have something to use for defense as well.

Hopefully she wouldn't -need- to use it.

[[Kyran Dean Continued To: Picking It Clean]]

((OOC: Only Kyran Dean has left the thread. Deanna Hull is still here to interact with!))

It was nine-something, or who the hell knew, when Deanna woke up, dully looked around, saw that Kyran was gone, and considered a moment before leaning her head back down on the table. He was probably off doing his thing -- searching, fortifying, some other masculine job while she dozed. Not that she begrudged him for it. He'd given her an opportunity to sleep some more. Dee liked sleep.

She brushed hair away from her eyes, head still resting on the table, and stared at Kyran's hatchet for a minute or so. Yeah, and he'd left that behind, too. For Dee to protect herself with, no doubt. She reached out with her right hand, grabbed it, and lifted. It was lighter than she'd expected; her wrist didn't even buckle under the weight.

"Huh."

A few minutes later, she was standing up, delicately giving the hatchet a two-handed practice swing.

[[Kyran Dean Continued From: Picking It Clean.]]

"Having fun."

Deanna had been playing around with the carpenter's hatchet while he was gone it looked.

Kyran held up the skateboard he'd found with a smirk. A little in-joke to show that he'd actually found one despite merely kidding around earlier. It was nice knowing that even with the tragedy of losing friends he could still hold on to some lighthearted moments like this.

"I've found some people."

[[Kyran Dean Continued To: The Time For Talk Is Now.]]

Chop. Chop.

"Not really."

After the third or fourth try it was apparent that Dee could swing an axe with such force as to maybe give someone a nasty bruise.  Assuming it didn't slip out of her hands as she swung it.

She gave Kyran a half-smile and handed the axe over.

"Yeah, you should probably keep that."

And how about that, Deanna? He'd found people. Of course he had. People she wasn't particularly sure she wanted to meet, but wasn't like she had much of a choice in the matter, now did she? And no, going off on her own wasn't really a plausible option. Dee'd always hated math, but it didn't take a genius to calculate her survival percentage or estimated remaining lifespan or some other statistical thingie based on whether she was with Kyran or not.

So she followed him out.

Three cigarettes left.

(Deanna Hull continued in The Time for Talk Is Now)