Survival Of The Fittest

((Steven Salazar continued from Should've actually thought up some thread titles before flipping the switch))

The trip through town gave Steven some time to think, but he didn't come up with anything much of use in it. He was drawn, again and again, to the horror and despair of the situation, which was the worst possible thing to focus on. He had to keep morale up, if not for his own sake, then so he didn't plunge Sharon into a pit of bleakness as well.

The town became more upscale the further north they went. Steven kept an eye out along the way, looking for good places to set up for a while, but until he mansions came into view, nothing really grabbed his attention. The two large houses, though, seemed like a good enough place to lay low, so he made his way towards them. At one point,when they were still quite a ways off, he thought he saw two people moving out of the larger one, back towards the denser part if town. He considered trying to meet up with them, but they were a ways off and seemed to be leaving cover, which meant any interaction would be a risk which carried only dubious rewards. Their intended course of action was clearly at odds with his, and there was always a chance that they were dangerous.

Steven did not want to believe that too many of his classmates would start killing early, but he knew that the temptation would be too great for some. Even if the rewards offered by violence were highly questionable, some would be too afraid that they would all be blown up for a failure to obey. Still more would not realize the extent to which killing harmed their chances. They might not be familiar with what had happened in past years, might not realize that it was rare for the most indiscriminately violent to make it far, and rarer still for them to do so in anything resembling good shape. Steven himself couldn't say for sure how the big killers did, but he was pretty sure that of the winner, only the boy from the third season had been actively hunting his peers. Even if some students realized this, however, they might still use violence to hide from their fear, or as a means of externalizing the anger they felt at their situation. Hopelessness could lead people to do crazy things, and usually not good ones.

After the figures had vanished, Steven decided that it would be better to angle towards the smaller mansion, if only because it was less likely to be picked over. He moved fairly slowly, keeping low, keeping track of Sharon. He tired to watch for anyone else, but no others presented themselves. Just maybe, the two of them could be alone here.

Now, as he entered the grounds, he kept glancing around, still not quite believing that they could be alone. It felt like trespassing, even if there was nobody here to object. Of course, there could be students lurking inside. They would have to be cautious.

"Think we should take the front door, or try for another entrance?" he asked Sharon.

((Sharon Elizabeth Austin continued from Should've actually thought up some thread titles before flipping the switch))

It's only a matter of time.

Shut up.

How long can you deny it?

Shut. Up.

This mental conversation with herself was what had been haunting Sharon for the entire journey. She would not be reduced to a killer this early in the game. She kept on having fights with the horrible avatar of doubt that was manifesting in her mind with every step she took. Why did her mind torture her like this? She found herself wondering that and trying to focus on other little things in the vain attempt to drown out the negative thoughts that were starting to overwhelm her mind like a swarm of angry bees.

Sharon was a reasonable person. Sure she had her anger spouts here and there, but she was logical and smart. She had some of the highest grades in her class after all. That had to count for something. Then again, she wasn't sure how algebra or knowing what the chemical formula for sulphuric acid would help her survive this death game. Sharon had taken the habit of calling the situation they were in "The Death Game." After all, that is what is going to happen to a majority of her classmates and the people who organized this seemed to regard it as little more than a game. It almost made her sick thinking about how little care the organizers have for the kids.

Her mind found itself naturally drifting towards the motivations for such a game. Why did this game exist? There had to be a point to all of this. Sharon very much doubted that the organizers of the game went through all of this "just for the lulz". She firmly believed that there was a higher purpose to The Death Game. Was it to send a message to the masses? This was streamed all over the world after all, the sheer scale of this venture gave her reason to believe that there was something big that was happening underneath all of this. Something she wanted to know.

Whatever the purpose was, Sharon reasoned that the people who organized this were determined for their message to be sent. If they weren't, it would've ended with the last version, where the "game" was interrupted and students were able to escape. If they were not determined to follow through with their "cause", they would have given up. They didn't though and she knew that the security could've only gotten stronger with the years that had passed. Her face scrunched up in thought as she considered the possibilities.

Why did they kidnap American high school students? Was it just for convenience? That couldn't be. That logic seemed to be too weak. If it was just for convenience, they probably would have taken students from other countries as that way, the world will never know which country that they would take students from next to play The Death Game. They focused on American high school students though. Was the message associated with America? That would make sense since they were taking students from  schools across America. What could it mean though?

Steven's question caught her off guard and she started to stutter, trying to organize her mind in order to make sense of what was going on around her. It seems like they were just outside a mansion. Wow, a mansion in the middle of nowhere. Just what was going on?

"I uhhh think that we should possibly be more careful? That would make sense considering the situation we are in now."

She needed to stop thinking too much. She needed to focus on survival. Then again, her thoughts about the motivations to play the game and whatnot did help her not focus on the negative thoughts. She found herself confused as to what she was supposed to think. Her face continued to be scrunched up as she tried to focus on the situation in front of them.

"I suppose so," Steven said. He wasn't really sure that there was any safe way of entering a building in this situation, not when the results of any action were so dependent on factors entirely outside their control. If nobody was in the mansion, then it wouldn't matter how they got in, except insofar as the indirect way would take longer and possibly put them at more risk in the process. If someone was inside, they might not take intruders well, making increased caution the prudent decision. On the other hand, they might get spooked by a more subtle approach, viewing it as a botched attempt at an ambush. Then, of course, there was the fact that they had no way of knowing what condition the inside of the mansion might be in, what sorts of natural hazards they might face.

Still, with all options roughly even, there was no reason not to take Sharon's preferred one. Steven nodded, backed up a step, and looked at the building. It was very large, which meant that there would surely be plenty of ways in and out, at least, if fire code had been adhered to at all on this island. They could, if necessary, break a window or something, or circle back around.

He didn't feel entirely at ease, even with all the options laid out in his mind. It just felt dangerous to approach what could very well have been appropriated by one of the other students as a stronghold. Steven scuffed his foot along the ground, stalled for time by looking the mansion over again. It must have been a beautiful building years ago, though it now looked very much worse for the wear.

"How should we do this?" he asked Sharon. They were taking her plan, so he figured she'd probably want to have some input in the implementation.

---

Ian was walking at a fairly decent pace now.  Whatever had been wrong with him earlier seemed to have passed, for which he was extremely grateful.  It was hard enough being stuck in this 'game' without being sick to top it off.  Only the ant bites were bothering him now, and he had to keep reminding himself not to scratch them.  He would invariably get lost in thought, and then carelessly scratch before he could think, making them even harder to ignore.

Of course, there wasn't really much to do other than think, as he plodded along the paved road, one foot after the other.  Now that he'd gotten past his immediate need for a goal, his emotions were starting to catch up with him, wearing away at his relative calmness.   It was a very slow, quiet process, but he couldn't continue ignoring them, not without a problem at hand to focus on.

So he'd tried to distract himself by thinking about escape again.   It wasn't that he genuinely expected to succeed, but it acted as a welcome distraction, keeping him from having to think too hard about what was likely to happen to him in the next few days, if not hours.  Unfortunately, he was at a complete loss.  Any escape attempt would have to be something he could get away with from under the terrorists' noses, which was a bit of a disadvantage, to say the least.  It was no use thinking about destroying the cameras.  He suspected that, even if he somehow managed to fake a convincing 'accident', the terrorists wouldn't be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Besides, he seemed to recall that the collars were supposed to be capable of tracking him, to some limited degree.  It made sense that they would at least have something to monitor his words, so that they'd have some audio for the videos they sent out.  His one advantage was the fact that the terrorists had no intention of blowing him up, as long as he seemed to be working within their system, or at least not actively fighting it.  Anything he did had to have the appearance of neutrality, at the very least.  

The thing was, he didn't have the foggiest clue of what he should do to get around the collars, let alone off the island.  He'd never been the most tech-savvy person, and he doubted that anyone else was up to getting them off either.  He wasn't a hero; he couldn't hope to do what not a single student had ever achieved across four different versions of this twisted thing.  

....and yet, the thought refused to die; hanging over his head and depressing him further, as his thoughts once again shifted towards the misery of his situation.


As he walked, he could see the occasional camera perched discreetly in various places, constantly reminding him the terrorists were watching.  The collar around his neck always felt a little tighter at the thought.  One camera in particular caught his notice.  It was hanging out from a tree near a turn in the path, sticking out so that it appeared to be staring at him with cold unconcern through it's glass eye.  He'd felt a surge of anger at the moment, as he thought of the terrorists who'd murdered Davidge lounging about and treating this as if it really were just a game.  If anyone deserve to be dying on this island, it was them.  

The feeling of anger quickly passed, as it always did for Ian, giving way to more depressing thoughts.   He was trapped on this island, expected to kill his classmates and/or die in the process.  The first was a sickening thought, as he'd always been taught to respect the sanctity of human life.  The second was a sickening thought, as he happened to value his own human life as well.   It all seemed incredibly unfair, as he'd noted multiple times during the walk.  Why did the terrorists even care about a relatively small group of American highschoolers?   Why couldn't it have been another school?  

He felt a flash of guilt at the thought.  After all, any other person's life was worth just as much as his own.  He couldn't wish this on anybody. Still.....why did it have to happen at all?   It was stupid and irrational.  They didn't deserve this.

He jerked his hand back as he realized he'd scratched at his arm yet again. It was torture, having to wait for the itching to die down yet again.  It was such a minor thing, compared to the larger problems he had to deal with, but somehow it seemed like it was going to be the last straw.  It'd be a bit ironic if that was what made him finally melt down, when there were so many larger things vying for that accomplishment.  It was just that....even now, it felt so unreal to be walking down this old, but still rather scenic path, and think that he was in a real life and death situation.  There was a part of him that felt like he was looking down at someone else's problem through a distant glass, almost as if he were playing a character in an especially vivid video game.  The ant-bites, on the other hand, refused to be ignored so easily, and kept chipping pieces of that illusion away just by reminding him of why they existed.   It was sapping his ability to stay rational at a time where he needed every bit of will he could muster, and even a minor inconvenience like this was extremely hard to deal with.

In a rather funny twist of the mind, his thoughts shifted G.K. Chesterton.  Hadn't he said something to the effect that inconveniences were just adventures, misunderstood?  For once, Ian felt he'd be willing to argue with him a bit on that one.  It might be all well and true as far as it went, but he was more inclined to sympathize with Tolkien's hobbits.  If this was an adventure, then they were certainly nasty, uncomfortable things, and he just wanted to find himself back home.  He'd already admitted he wasn't a hero.  The more he thought about it, the more he wondered why he'd gone looking for his friends in the first place.  It wasn't like he could save them all.  He'd known from the beginning that he couldn't really hope to do so, even if he found them, but at the time it hadn't quite clicked what that meant.  Was he even capable of making a difference?

It was while he was chewing on this bitter thought that he entered grounds of the smaller mansion, and realized that he wasn't the only one there.  Ian had just carelessly walked right out into the open while lost in thought, and he'd missed two people on the hill that he ought to have noticed if he'd actually been looking.  One of them he recognized as Sharon Austin, who he'd been slightly acquainted with from the Book Club, while he couldn't quite put a name to the other off the top of his head.  He seemed a little familiar, but Ian didn't think it was anyone he knew.  It was hard to say if either had noticed him yet.   They appeared to be talking with each other, possibly focusing on the mansion, and the trees lining the path had offered a little accidental cover.   Of course, even if that were actually the case, there was next to no chance that they wouldn't see him in the next few seconds if he wanted to enter the mansion

He weighed his options quickly.  Sharon wasn't someone he really knew all that well.  He'd heard a bit about her temper, and had found her seemingly choleric temperament a little off-putting.  Still, she'd seemed like a decent enough person from the little they'd talked, so that'd be worth considering.  Obviously, he couldn't ignore them unless he planned on turning tail and running.  Tempting as that was, it seemed rather pointless.  He was certain to encounter people wherever he went, and at least this seemed to be a relatively safe bet, compared to some other people he could have bumped into.  Just the fact that the two were together was a hopeful sign, as it at least implied that they weren't likely to attack as soon as they saw someone.  Besides, if they were also scouting out the mansion, there'd be safety in numbers, and honestly, he wasn't exactly enjoying his own company at the moment anyway; it was just too depressing.

So he cleared his throat and called out in as friendly a voice as could be managed, under the circumstances.  He moved forward a little as he talked, making sure to keep a few yards away.  He wanted a chance to gauge their reaction before he got close enough to be in any danger.   Besides, he really wanted to make it clear he wasn't a threat.  There was no sense in making them panic, and he had to play it really cautiously from here.  He'd already proven that his carelessness could put him in a bad position.  

"Hey, Sharon!  Are you guys looking into renting the place too?"

He'd taken care to focus on Sharon in particular because he knew her to some extent.  While they might not be close friends, they'd at least been acquainted through the Book Club, and perhaps he might be able to identify himself as a friendly face that way.   Y'know, before they decided to shoot, or otherwise inconvenience him.  He wasn't feeling up to any more 'adventures' today.  

Sharon pondered about how to approach the conundrum that they found themselves in. Since it was a mansion, she made the assumption that there had to be more than one entrance. There may even be a hatch to the basement or something, but something inside her made her doubt that. That normally was only found in old houses like the ones in the Wizard of Oz or something. In any case, standing around wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"We might as well look around. It's a mansion, so I fully expect that there would be more than one entrance. However, with that comes the issue of how we would fortify the place." Sharon observed as she propped her head on her hand. If there was more than one entrance and they were indeed making this place their base, Sharon needed to be sure about how they could protect the place.

"I think this would be-" Sharon started before she heard someone calling out her name. Turning around, she was surprised to see Ian Williams approaching them. He obviously didn't present them as a threat as if he did, he probably was the biggest idiot on the island by announcing his presence to them. She knew him from Book Club, but that was it.

"Well obviously, otherwise we wouldn't be here." Sharon replied sarcastically. "I might as well make you two familiar. Ian, this is Steven. Steven, this is Ian. Ian, do you want to join us or not? I assume you want to, unless your calling out was an attempt to get our attention towards the fact that you're trying to kill us."

Sharon waited for a reply from either of the guys. She had no reason to not trust Ian. He made his presence well-known and she vaguely knew him from Book Club. On the other hand though, there was that whole "YOU CAN'T TRUST ANYONE!" thing that the people who made this game tried to enforce upon them. Could she trust him? Hopefully. Heck, if she couldn't, it was two vs. one. They would overpower him easily.

"Hey," Steven said, giving Ian a nod. He didn't need Sharon's introduction to know the boy's name, of course; Steven could probably rattle off their entire class if given a few minutes to think it over. He didn't know much else about the guy, though, besides that he'd moved into the area after the start of high school and was, like so many others, in the book club.

Sharon was approaching the situation with all her usual subtlety and tact. It was relieving to see her making good progress on not being changed by the game, but at the same time Steven could see the potential for some pretty major alienation. He hoped she and Ian had been on decent terms back at school. It wasn't too out there, given that she'd introduced them to one another. Hopefully that meant that Ian was familiar with her method of interaction and knew to give her the benefit of the doubt when she came off as harsh.

"To clarify a little," Steven said, "we're not looking for any trouble. We woke up in the middle of town, thought we'd get out and see the country, enjoy the air, find somewhere to settle in for a bit. If that sounds good to you, then welcome aboard."

The less they all referenced their current situation, the better. Steven wasn't whitewashing it internally, wasn't letting it slide out of his mind for a single moment, but he also wasn't going to dwell on it verbally. The more they brought it up, the harder it would be to keep in decent spirits, and the more likely they were to start thinking in the ways the terrorists wanted them to. There was a degree of caution that was mandatory, true, but browbeating people again and again with the same dry facts had a way of normalizing them and increasing apathy on the part of the recipients. Steven would just have faith that Sharon was keeping hold of herself and staying alert.

As to Ian, only time would tell if he could become a permanent addition to their team. Right now, what Steven wanted to do was gather facts, and the best way to do that would be by getting to know him a bit more, like he would back at home. Getting the real measure of a person was much easier when they were just socializing, since that reduced the incentive to put on airs and try to reinforce an image. Low pressure bred truth.

Ian hadn't let Sharon's curtness bother him all that much.  From the little he knew about her, Sharon appeared to have a rather similar temperament as his sister, Nicole.  They seemed to share the same aggressive streak that had nearly driven Ian crazy as a kid.  Over time, he'd learned to deal with it, understanding that the rudeness it often sparked was more impulsive than anything to be taken personally.  After all, it was quite possible he'd startled her, and it was hard to blame someone for being irritable under the circumstances anyway.  Besides, while he hadn't meant it that way, he realized his wry comment may not exactly have helped at that particular moment.  While Ian had learned to turn to humor to help him deal with stress and negativity, he realized that not everyone appreciated that.  For now, he was inclined to give Sharon the benefit of the doubt, and just try to avoid setting off a conflict with her.

He was grateful to see that Steven was helping with that last part, doing an excellent job of smoothing the situation over, and keeping him from having to awkwardly reply to Sharon's comment directly.  Regardless of his amusement at Sharon's unprompted introduction, he appreciated having a name to work with, even if he didn't really know all that much about who it was attached to.  Ian could vaguely recall that Steven was involved in the Aurora High newspaper, and a bit of a extrovert, but that was all that came to mind off the top of his head.  Still, even though he didn't really know Steven, it spoke well of him that he was both capable and willing to be polite to a virtual stranger in their situation.  It was a much appreciated gesture that helped Ian feel a little more comfortable trusting the two of them.  So when he responded, he nodded back at Steven, naturally focusing on the one who seemed to be the friendlier of the two.

"Well, if you guys don't mind, then I'd love to tag along for a while.  I had a less than pleasant awakening back in the park, and I was just hoping to find somewhere safe to rest a bit."  While he'd been tempted to make another light reference to their situation, he held off, in case he'd guessed right that it had annoyed Sharon.  After all, there was no reason to risk alienating her.  

As he finished talking, he looked towards the old mansion, acting a beacon to anyone nearby on top of its small hill.  It occurred to him that it was quite possible another student had already decided to hold up there, and after that scare a moment ago, he was feeling much more inclined to be cautious.  He didn't expect that the other two were likely to know whether or not this was the case, as Steven had basically told him that they had only just gotten here, but he decided to ask anyway.  It didn't hurt to check, after all.

"I don't suppose you know if anyone else is in there?"

((BO72: White, Cyrus: START))

"Survival of the Fittest. I had oh-so-hoped this thing wasn't going to be back..." Cyrus looked down at the duffel bag, still unopened. "Do I really want to know what's in there?"

"You see, the point of the game is to be the last one standing. Only one of you will ever see home again. Once on the island, you will have to kill each other until only one remains."

Pulling out the ice axe, he studied it closely, looking at which parts were sharpest and hardest. "Okay, if I bash this against something, or jab right here..yeah, it won't break. I can definitely keep stuff maintained." Getting onto his feet, he examined his surroundings. "Y-yeah...maintain."

He was in a fairly large bathroom, everything around him looking unused and dilapidated, but still as though it were expensive, once-upon-a-time. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a medicine cabinet above the sink. He stared for what must have been a full minute before he realized: There could be supplies in there. He quickly walked over and opened up the cabinet, smiling slightly at what he saw. He dragged over the duffel bag and began to swiftly place bottles and containers into his first-aid kit. After sorting through what he could use or trade, he took a headcount of each item and spoke for the first time since he was on the plane. He cleared his throat.

"Okay, valium, aspirin, zmax, shaving cream, razor, dental floss, dulcalax, feminine products, hydrogen peroxi..." Cyrus had only just begun to list the items when he heard the voices outside. His eyes widened as thoughts ran through his head. "Ohhhhmydearlordpleasetellmetheydon'thavegunsoratleasttellmethatthey'refriendlyorwillingtotradeorsomething." He blinked hard, and whispered to himself. "Keep calm...don't lose your mind this early, Cyrus." He closed the first-aid kit, picked up his ice axe and slowly began to walk out of the bathroom and into the hall.

"Don't hurt anyone...be reasonable...don't let them think you're a threat." He looked at the doors. A window on either side. "Cripes, I can't let them see me. Not until I know that they're safe."

He ducked behind a couch, pulling his duffel bag close to him. He remembered something, and pulled a pair of thick leather gloves out of his shirt pocket. Putting the gloves on, he firmly gripped the ice axe.

"No blisters." Cyrus whispered to himself. "Remember to keep an open mind. Don't antagonize them." He loosened his grip on the axe. "Stay calm. A personal apocalypse doesn't mean you can't make friends before it's over." He paused. "Before...it's all over." He sighed and continued to wait out the group outside.

Sharon was honestly glad that Steven was here to settle any disputes that may be caused by her behavior. He was much more social than she was and he was probably also more persuasive. She was blunt and he was subtle. She appreciated having that type of resource with her as she recognized how her brutish behavior would interfere with the social aspect of the game. He was also there to keep her calm and heaven knows what she could do if she lost her temper. It might have lead her to a path she couldn't escape from, which was the last thing she wanted. She wanted freedom and choices.

"You can tell us about your awakening later." Sharon bluntly commented, her eyes flitting over to the window and seeing what she thought was some movement. Her eyes narrowed sharply as she refocused her glasses. She had been idly looking at the window for some time now, checking for signs of life inside the mansion. She would have hated to be ambushed while trying to set up the momentary camp there.

"I thought I saw something move in that window over there. I may be hallucinating, but I think there might be someone else there apart from us." Sharon's voice became serious, all semblance of sarcasm gone from it. She needed to plan ahead. If they just blindly walked into the mansion, heaven knows what would happen. She was sure that someone must've woken up there. After all, there were like 100 kids who went on the field trip. Her mind started racing as she started tapping her cheek with one of her fingers.

"I think I may have a plan. It may require a bit of reconnaissance first towards whether or not there are other entrances. I am pretty sure there is, but you can never be too sure." Sharon mused, highlighting her thoughts and taking refuge in the wonderful land of thinking. She relished the land of thought as her ideas helped her cope with the reality of the situation. Through thinking, she can keep some semblance of sanity. After all, it kept her away from the thoughts of death and whatnot.

"The plan is pretty simple really. First of all, one person goes in the front and lures any potential people or threats that are inside the mansion. Assuming that there is another entrance and that it is readily accessible, the other two can enter from there and potentially ambush the people from behind. Unfortunately, Steven and I got screwed with the weapon load outs and I'm really not sure what you have, but judging by the fact that you don't have any sort of weapon out, I doubt that you have something that can be used offensively as well." Sharon methodically explained to the two boys while adjusted her glasses. The thought of not having any obvious means of defense started to hit her and she didn't like it. Right now, they needed to be smart if they wanted to survive and Sharon was going to use every ounce of her intelligence to survive whatever obstacle was going to come at her.

"Now, who wants to be bait?" Sharon inquired, looking at the two boys in the slightest hope that one of them would be willing to draw the potential opponents' attention. "What? Do you expect me to be bait?"

"I'll do it," Steven said.

He had some doubts about whether or not there would be anyone else in there, but for the moment the safe thing to do would be to assume that Sharon was right. Sending her up to draw attention held the possibility of alienating whoever it was, since Sharon could be blunt enough to distress people at the best of times. In this game of death, that could escalate things quickly, and while Steven knew he was throwing stones in a glass house there, he was also a little more confident in his own ability to keep cool under pressure. Ian would probably be fine too, but it didn't feel right asking him to take risks; since Steven and Sharon had been partnered up at the start, leaving Ian on his own could cause him to lose trust in them, maybe even make him think they were betraying him.

Steven didn't exactly like the idea of being bait, even less when it was put in such direct terms, but he was clearly the most logical choice. Besides, he was pretty sure he'd have at least an idea as to the identity of anyone he encountered, which would give him another leg up in dealing with them and making any sort of ambush unnecessary.

"So," he said, keeping his voice somewhat low, "I just go up and knock, right? You guys wanna get going, and then I'll give it a twenty-count?"

He didn't bother to deal with some of the other stuff Ian had said, about sticking together and all. Sharon had ignored it, and dragging it back out would just cast light on that. Moreover, it was pretty obvious by her plan that Ian was now part of the team. Any sort of more official welcome would have to come later.

At the moment, Steven just wanted to actually get inside, rather than standing around talking about it and thinking about it and not actually doing it.

Ian wasn't exactly thrilled with Sharon's plan for several reasons, not least of which was because she was so blatantly asking one of them to take a risk she didn't even want to consider doing herself.  Not that it was likely to be any more dangerous than moving around the back, but her casual, matter of fact statement had really rubbed him the wrong way.

However, he didn't have any alternatives to offer, and this was better than continuing to stand outside and talk about what to do.  He was willing to assume that she'd seen someone, as it fit his desire to be cautious, but he wasn't sure that sneaking in would be the best choice.  While he understood that it was likely some of his classmates would choose to kill, he was willing to bet that the greater danger would be to risk startling an otherwise harmless person who happened to be holding something like a gun.  Still, there were going to be problems with any course they took, and he didn't see enough reasons to justify arguing about it, especially as Steven had effectively agreed with the plan when he volunteered to be the one to knock on the door.  

He'd briefly considered offering to take Steven's place, and letting him and Sharon go around the back.  He recognized that he was the stranger here, and earning their trust was extremely important if they were going to be spending any length of time together.  However, the more he thought about it, the more he felt that tactically, not to mention tactfully, Steven was the best choice.  He'd already proven to be up to dealing with people, and honestly, it was unlikely that he'd be in any more danger than the other two.  Ian still felt that the two sneaking around the back were more likely to run into trouble.  He at least had his experience in martial arts, and while he didn't want to count on a skill when he might not be able to deliver, he had to admit he was probably their best bet for dealing with someone hostile inside a relatively confined area like the mansion.  So Ian just nodded at the other boy when he finished talking.

"Yeah, I'm afraid I only got a camera, so we might as well get going.  Just be sure to check the windows after you knock, okay?  I doubt there'll be any problems, but better safe than sorry.  That way you'll at least have some idea of what's going on."  

He turned to Sharon as a sudden idea hit him.  "Oh, speaking of windows, I think we should make a tight circle around the building.  With any luck at all, we might be able to spot anyone in there, without giving them a chance to react in a way we wouldn't care for."

"Okay, I'll look out. Look out for one second. Just a second-half a second, even-OKAY, SHE SAW ME." Cyrus wasn't panicking yet, per say. He sighed, crawling slightly under the couch.

"Just have to look under the couch, pull up the skirt, and...okay, they shouldn't be able to see me." He looked carefully, his view slightly obstructed. They didn't seem to have any weapons. He sighed again, relieved. Crawling out of the couch, he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and picked up his ice axe.

"Just have to look nonthreatening, keep my weapon low..." He paused. This was the first time he referred to the axe as a weapon. He shook his head, staring at the tool. "I...I might have to kill someone. Not today, hopefully, but soon. I wonder if anyone has...like, died already? What if these people have guns, but I can't see them?" Cyrus shook his head again, clutching the axe with both hands.

"No...you'll be fine. Just...be friendly, or something like that. If they're murderers, they wouldn't be able to organize so early in the game...right?" He put one hand on the door knob. "Ugh...game." Turning the knob, he pulled the door open. He blinked at the sudden light and smiled in the general direction of the group.

"Hi! I'm not a murderer!" He kicked himself, mentally. "Yep, not suspicious at all, Cyrus..."

Unfortunately, their new ally didn't have a weapon, only a camera. It made her think about her life back at home, where she would just mindlessly take photos and enjoy the atmosphere around her. That fleeting memory made her smile before she remembered that she brought her own camera. Her eyes opened widely in surprise as she couldn't remember seeing her camera anywhere. Oh no they didn't.

"The bastards! They took my camera!" Sharon suddenly yelled, feeling her anger rise up within her. Her fists clenched in fury, clearly looking unhappy. She had forgotten about her camera up until now and the reminder only served to act as a slap in the face to her. She had that camera for most of her life. How dare they take her camera. How fucking dare they. She chewed her lip harshly, only to hear an unfamiliar voice call out to them.

Sharon whipped suddenly in the direction of the voice, her hair flipping wildly behind her. It was the mormon kid, Cyrus. She never bothered to get to know him and she was not really interested in getting to know him. He was just another person in school, a bit stupid about religion, but just another kid. She was more interested in the weapon though, which looked like an axe. Probably an ice axe. Great, the fucking mormon got the weapon while she got that stupid fucking DVD. She was very unamused.

"You're not doing a fucking good job of convincing me." Sharon spat out in reply, gesturing to the weapon in the kid's hand. She was not in the mood for any of this bullshit. What the hell was he saying? How did that serve to set them at ease? It was fucking pathetic and weak. She glared furiously at Cyrus, her eyes filled with the fires of rage and anger. Why did he get the weapon while she got the fucking joke weapon? How was that fair?

Sharon paced angrily towards Cyrus and went right up to his face, glowering angrily in some attempt to intimidate him. This was probably a really stupid move, but she wasn't scared. She was brave and strong and while she didn't have a weapon, it was 3 against 1. If he tried anything, he would meet the business end of a world of fists. She hoped that he wasn't an idiot.

"If you want to do a fucking better job of convincing me, put that ice axe on the floor. Now." Sharon declared, wanting to get that thing out of his hands before they could talk about anything else. She did not want to contest with that weapon. She had the numbers, but he had the superior weapon. If he attacked, it was guaranteed that one of them would be injured or maybe even killed. That wasn't going to happen on her watch though.

"It's okay," Steven said, stepping up alongside Sharon. This was not ideal. The boy insider had decided to step out before they'd gotten into position, meaning Steven had been unable to insert himself as a buffer for the interactions. He's really been hoping to prime anyone they met for Sharon's acerbic nature, but he'd make do. Right now, as long as everyone calmed down and didn't cause trouble, he'd be happy. Taking control of the situation would let him push it in that direction.

"You don't have to put it on the floor," he added. "Just, a pocket or something. We don't have any real weapons, so you'll be safe, too."

He took a quick breath, searched his mental catalog until he could pull a name out. Cyrus White, big into shop class. Steven was pretty sure Cyrus had a reputation for being good to others. That was a promising sign, and while Steven was very aware that stress could change even the best of people, the game hadn't been running long enough for him to believe such a thing of Cyrus, especially when the boy's weapon showed no signs of use, when they had heard no sounds of conflict during their approach.

"You mind if we come in? We were looking for some shelter, a place to spend the night. If you'd rather we go, though, we can try the neighbors."

He gave a nod towards the other mansion, off in the distance. It would be far preferable to take this one, but he wasn't about to get into conflict with Cyrus over something so trivial. Avoiding making enemies was way more important than avoiding a little extra walking.

"Hey, Cyrus, right?  No worries.  We're all just a little tense at the moment, but all we wanted is safe place to rest, if you're okay with that."

Ian smiled at Cyrus, as he came up behind the other two, even while he inwardly sighed in quiet frustration.  Sharon's little display there had really put him on edge, especially when she came barreling down on the boy holding a pickaxe.  Thankfully, he showed no signs of tensing up, or otherwise preparing to attack, even when she got in his face and started lashing out at him.  So far, luck was beating stupidity two to zero.  To judge from their actions, one would think it meant their team was losing, but somehow, he was okay with that.   Now, he just had to hope that luck would pull a hat trick, and they'd be able to salvage the situation.   He really didn't want to go through this again, even if they had a plan in mind now.  

Thankfully, once again, Steven had already interjected himself in the mess, and seemed to be doing a decent job at damage control.  Ian was content to let him take the lead on that for now, just offering support where he felt it'd be useful.  He briefly wondered if there was a way he could help calm Sharon down, but decided against it.  Anything he said to her was more likely to add fuel to the fire than to help, however well intentioned.  He just had to hope that Cyrus was willing to let it go.  Ian didn't know him well enough to be sure how he'd react, but the few times they'd chatted, Cyrus had seemed a kind and likeable guy.  Hopefully, he'd had the right impression of the other boy.