Survival Of The Fittest

((Brandon Murphy continued from Don't mind me, I'll just be over here))

Brandon managed to get some sleep during the night in the jungle. Somehow managing to be safe, alone. Even with the distant sounds of his classmates making hell. It helped he slept with his sword right next to him, right now it was just him and it vs the world.

He continued his trek across the jungle and decided he wanted to get to a vantage point. To get a point of reference across this place, get an understanding where he's going and where things are without sticking his nose down on the map currently in his left hand the entire time. It felt like sound logic to him.

But what if others had the same idea, what then?

That thought put him in a pause as he stood there. He did have a sword so he could threaten and make his position clear. His area for now. But if they had a gun... He rubbed his forehead with his left arm as he looked around him and saw only tree's and plants staring back at him.

It was worth a risk he decided, if someone's there he would come up with something then. He resumed his pace as he read of the map.

It took him a while, but he eventually made it. And as far as he could see, no one else was there. Finally, he thought to himself, my luck is looking up. It didn't take him long before he ventured out to the platform and took in the view for a second.

A long breath in.... and out.

Alright, back to what he came here for. Not long after he stood there with map in hand as he noted where things where.

((Myles Roux continued from Rakshasa Country))

Myles had never really been a morning person. A rainy morning like this one was good for waking up, noting that it was raining, and burrowing back under the covers to sleep some more. That was about it. Eventually he'd get up and probably lounge around the house with a cup of coffee and a movie. Maybe he'd see if someone wanted to come over and hang out, but he probably wouldn't have accepted any invitations to go out somewhere unless it was from somebody he really wanted to see.

At least Tristan was here, and Adonis had had his fill of sulking after his rescue was rejected yesterday. It made the fact that Myles was trudging along holding his jacket over his head as a makeshift umbrella, like, vaguely tolerable. The jerks who put them here couldn't even provide those cheap ponchos with the other stuff? Come on.

After escaping the beach, the three of them had laid low for the rest of the day. Myles and Adonis had just about managed to dry off before it started pouring and made all of that pointless, but they'd sheltered in the village for the night and set out early to do... whatever. Myles wasn't sure what, if anything, they were actually looking for or trying to do besides vaguely searching for more friendly faces. He wasn't one for math, but his estimate was that chances were higher of finding enemies.

His thoughts drifted to Ivy, and then to the fact that they'd gotten up early enough that the announcement wouldn't have played yet. He just as quickly packed those thoughts back into the lockbox where they belonged.

They'd find each other eventually. They always did. Couldn't keep them apart.

It would be fine.

"So, uh..." Myles spoke up to keep his thoughts from drifting further. "I'm gonna be that person and ask if we can take a break? We've been walking a long time, and we haven't seen anybody. And it's raining. There's houses up at the top of the island too, right? Can't we head up there and like, chill for a bit? I dunno how many people are going to be out walking around in this."

They were in a part of the woods he didn't recognize, with a clearing up ahead. There was probably something around that would make a good place to stop for a bit before they picked up again and found real shelter. He ought to see if Adonis or Tristan would be willing to give him a piggyback ride when they did. He was used to walking, but trudging through the rain and the woods was tiring.

((Adonis Cohen continued from Rakshasa Country))

Adonis was still mulling about Camila who had gone off on her own the other day after he had saved her from drowning and he was hoping that she was safe all on her own. He didn't want to think that letting her go alone was a mistake but he was getting a feeling from his gut that was thinking otherwise. He couldn't let the thought of Camila take over his mind forever and he was going to push her to the back of his brain for a while. His main priority right now should Myles and Tristan who were his current companions and he wanted to stay with them for as long as he could.

The three of them had been walking for a long time and Adonis didn't mind walking a lot. However, Myles seemed like the opposite about it and Adonis wasn't going to push the other two to keep going forward, just because he was not exhausted from a very long walk. He didn't have any idea how long they had been moving around the island anyway and it would be better for them to rest and think of a new plan of what they could do next. Adonis still wanted to find his friends and help out other people who might need it. But he was always up for other ideas that Myles or Tristan might have.

"That's a good idea, Myles. We really do need to get some shelter and this rain is becoming a bit much. Maybe we can get into some cover to check out one of the maps again?" Adonis nodded in agreement and then he glanced at Tristan for a moment. Thinking about the kiss again. Okay, this was no time for him to feel jealous about whatever Myles and Tristan were to each other. He been staring at Tristan for too long and he glanced away to look at their surroundings quickly. "Hm..."

((Tristan O’Hara continued from Rakshasa Country))

The sheer presence of Myles and Adonis had done wonders for Tristan’s mood as the trio had traipsed their way from the pier and to… wherever they’d ended up. He hadn’t really been paying attention to his surroundings for the most part, and had no specific direction in mind so he was more than happy to let Myles and Adonis take the lead in that regard.

Having a familiar face to his left and a friendly one to his right meant he’d had more than enough to keep him occupied as the hours trickled by. He hadn’t been forced to stew in his thoughts or scramble for any distraction he could manage, and the rapid drumming in his chest that he’d almost become accustomed to over the past couple days had slowed to a more measured, regular pace.

That being said, Tristan wasn’t the outdoorsy type, not by a long shot. He liked dreary weather, but from the comfort of his own bed with a hot chocolate in his hands, and he liked being in nature, but only when there was the option to leave at any time. In this place, he had neither of those luxuries. He was tired and his feet hurt; his hair was frazzled; and he wanted nothing more than to get out of his current outfit. He knew he wouldn’t be able to manage anything more practical or comfortable from his belongings, but at the very least he could take a small measure of comfort in clean and fresh clothes.

So when Myles took the initiative to suggest a break and Adonis agreed, Tristan inwardly counted his blessings. It was a twofer; he’d get the chance to rest and put up his feet for a moment, and he hadn’t been the one to suggest it -- so for all Myles or Adonis knew, he could’ve been keen and capable of hiking for hours and hours more.

“Sounds like a plan, my guys,” Tristan said, injecting a bit of pep into his voice that wasn’t entirely disingenuine. “I need to get the fuck out of this outfit and into something better. I’ll have plenty of time to be fashionable later.”

He turned to Myles, who looked just as bedraggled and fed up with their walk as Tristan felt.

“Need a lift, bud?”

He turned to Adonis, not wanting him to be left out.

“I’d offer, but only got room for one. Maybe y’all can take turns?”

It didn't take long before inconvenience got in his way. The rain dripped onto his map and made seeing acoss the distance difficult, but at least he marked down a few landmarks of interest to check out later. He put his map back in his bag and with sword in hand, jogged across the area for a place to cover from the rain.

He figured he'd use the trees for one and seated himself against one. Now it was just drizzle hitting him now. A small improvement.

Now, where did he go from here? Brandon thought to himself as he scraped his blade against the ground. The entire area here had been woods and some paths here and there. He could take those out of here and find another building. The village had been out of the question and the lighthouse... He needed a proper place for himself.

Adonis felt himself blinking in surprise as Tristan was offering to basically give him a piggyback ride and he felt a small chuckle escape out of his mouth. He could understand Myles being the one who got a ride from Tristan, but Adonis didn't think that Tristan would be that generous with him and he actually appreciated the offer quite a bit. "Tristan, that's very sweet of you. But I'm cool with walking as I like being able to walk or jog in nature." He paused for a moment to think about what to say next to Tristan and he felt a sly smile appearing on his face, feeling not that bad about being with Tristan and Myles. "Although, I could always carry you if you ever need it, Tristan."

He winked at him cheekily.

Before he could say any more words; the announcement decided to come on at that moment and Adonis felt himself going silent as he listened to the names of the dead and the killers. He felt a tug at his heart as he heard each name of who the dead were and who their killers were. It hurt because he actually knew a lot of them; but he didn't hang out with them that much and now he could never because they were either gone or someone to avoid in the future.

Adonis felt himself let out a shaky breath at two names that he heard. Sapphire and Lorenzo. Sapphire had been a close friend of Emmett's and Adonis knew that Emmett would be hurting over losing one of the few friends that he had. Adonis needed to find Emmett as soon as possible and he had to be there for him. Adonis didn't want Emmett to do anything so reckless and rash and he had to be Emmett's moral compass. It really hurt a bit more to hear that Lorenzo had done that to her and he didn't know what he would do if he were to ever-

"Then there was a tale as old as time. Friend finds friend, friend approaches friend, friend gets shot. This happened to Regina Petrov and Caroline Ford when Caroline shot Regina and then decided to vandalize one of our cameras, so we followed through with our warning and blew her head off. Do not mess with our cameras."

…

…

…

Adonis couldn't breathe.

He felt like he was drowning. He felt like someone was strangling him. Suffocating him. Crushing his chest. Squeezing his lungs. Ripping out his heart. Tearing off his ears. Gouging out his eyes. Stomping on his throat. Cutting off his tongue. Everything. He was feeling everything and he wanted it to stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop....

Regina.

Regina.

Regina.

REGINA.

ReGiNa.

Adonis felt something different inside of him now and he knew that he couldn't be the same Adonis anymore. He couldn't be the nice guy that he was before all of this and he knew that he was never going to forgive the murderers that were still roaming around on the island. They needed to be punished for what they have done and Adonis was going to make them pay. He didn't care if anyone was going to try to change his mind because he couldn't turn back now and he was already at the point of no return. At least, that was what he was thinking in that moment.

"Tristan, give me your knife." He said in a low, demanding voice. "I need it."

Good. Perfect. Tristan was no mind-reader, but he always had good intuition for Myles's thoughts and feelings, and he made the offer without even having to be asked. He shot Tristan a smile but didn't confirm or deny just yet. Break first, then they'd get all that sorted out.

When they emerged into the clearing with the benches, Myles caught sight of someone else just retreating off to the side. As he opened his mouth to draw Tristan and Adonis's attention to them, he was interrupted. Not by one of his companions. By crackle and the voice.

Fuck.

His spirits had buoyed a little bit, but they sank again just as quickly. He almost held his breath.

Nick again. Quinn again. No Blaise, and he wasn't sure if that was surprising or not. Ivy wasn't on there. Neither were Tonya or her friend. It was almost enough for him to be relieved, but of course he couldn't even be allowed enough time to think things over.

Myles probably wouldn't have thought very much about Regina and Caroline at all if Adonis hadn't started freaking out. Demanding Tristan's knife? Nope. No. Bad idea. Don't give the freakout guy a knife. Adonis had already proven that he was too impulsive what with the disappearing and the jumping into the ocean to save people who were obviously hostile. Tristan's dagger and the single-bullet gun still hidden in Myles's jacket were the only lines of defense they had between the three of them, and Adonis was clearly just going to run off half-cocked again if he got his hands on it. No knife for you, Mr. Cohen.

Not that he could phrase it that way. "Adonis, hey..." Myles made his voice gentle, stepping up to Adonis's side and reaching out to lightly touch his back. Over Adonis's shoulder, he shot Tristan a glance and shook his head firmly. Don't you dare give him the knife.

Tristan wasn’t expecting to be flirted with in a place like this. It felt almost normal, and he wanted to reciprocate -- would’ve done so gladly in any other circumstance -- but any reply he could’ve offered in response to Adonis’ wink caught in his throat, and died the second a familiar crackle sounded out above them.

Nick’s name again, and all of those feelings from yesterday morning came rushing back. There was so little context given, just two names and a little quip. As he’d mulled things over the day before, there had been a part of Tristan that said hey, maybe Beryl was an accident or an act of mercy. He so desperately wanted to believe it. It wouldn’t have made the sting of Beryl being gone burn any less, but it would’ve dampened that fire of emotions he had towards Nick. Just Beryl could’ve been justifiable, but someone else as well? Then it was becoming a pattern, and the chance of Beryl’s death being by chance and not calculated or deliberate grew even smaller.

There were no other names that really held much weight to Tristan, and he counted his blessings. But as he turned to gauge what the others felt, he quickly realised Adonis hadn’t been so lucky. He saw the flash in Adonis’ eyes, heard the surge of barely-restrained emotion in his voice. Tristan recognised it. He’d felt that same drop-down when Beryl-and-Nick had emanated above him. He thought about how tossing that ring had been enough, just for the moment, how reuniting with Myles had been enough to temper it.

But what did Adonis have? He had no close allies on hand or keepsakes to throw, but he made it very clear to Tristan just what would be enough to get him through whatever torpedo of emotions was rampaging through him with one simple request.

It only took a second for Tristan to realise it was one he could not grant.

Myles offered a few words of comfort, and fixated his eyes on Tristan. He returned Myles’ gaze, and there were a hundred things he wanted to say. He hoped he could convey most of them in those precious few seconds of contact before he broke away to turn his attention to Adonis.

“Hey, Adonis… things will be okay. Let’s just sit for a moment alright? Just breathe.”

Tristan never considered himself that good at comforting others, but prayed he was a good enough actor to fake his way through it.

Adonis wasn't thinking straight in that moment. He knew that so well. But he had been taken over by so many emotions that he never wanted to feel. This was so much worse than having his heart broken by Emmett. So much more worse than thinking that Marco was going to get himself killed out there. So much more worse than being the one who gets to live. Regina was dead when it should have been him. She deserved to live more than him and he hated that he was still here without her. His best friend that he never even got a chance to say goodbye to.

He felt Myles trying to touch him and he flinched in response. "Don't touch me, Myles." He hissed as he shoved him away with one of his hands forcefully and he felt a bit of guilt over it. But he couldn't stop what he was doing now and he turned his attention back to Tristan. "Things will be okay..? My best friend is gone because I should have been there to protect her! SHE'S DEAD!! Everything is not going to be okay as I was wasting my time trying to help other people when I... She.... I couldn't.... Just give me the fucking knife, Tristan!"

Adonis felt himself moving closer to Tristan and his hand reached out quickly to try to pull the knife out of his hand.

He didn't want to hurt Tristan. Why couldn't Tristan just understand? He needed to do something! Anything!

It didn't take long for him to decide he needed to leave for a place with any sort of roof. as much as he wanted to have a clear idea, he coudln't afford to get sick in any way. So he went down with the trees away from the path to the lookout.

He had been right to do so.

Three were down the path, and there seemed to be something brewing judging by the weird behavior going on. Brandon couldn't hear what was being said so for all he knew one of them stubbed his toe then lost his mind. Wouldn't be first time considering the insanity of his class.

Now, a smart man would have left the area and not looked back having seen this. Preferrably far away so he could further ponder how fucked up his class was.

Brandon was not a smart man at the moment as he stayed glued to the tree, watching. Maybe it was the stuff that could be left behind in case someone went rambo, but in full honesty, his curiosity is what kept him here. It was in a way similar to home when he would go on Live leaks or 4 chan. See some real shit that would stick with you long after you'd seen it.

Nothing was more real than this.

It didn’t work, and honestly, Tristan knew he should’ve known it wouldn’t. Because those words were empty. They weren’t what Adonis needed and Tristan hated that he didn’t know what to do. He had all those ways he’d made people feel better back home; sex, and alcohol, and shopping, and performing and he couldn’t use any of those here. At least, he couldn’t conjure a way to use them now, not when he had Adonis boring down on him, anguish dripping from every word he spat in Tristan’s direction.

Tristan closed his eyes, and thought of Hel. The first familiar face he’d encountered on the island had been so despondent, but they’d still pulled themselves back, even just a little, even after getting shot. He thought of Beryl and Nick. How one was gone, and if Nick was still around he was probably so far removed from the boy he’d once known.

Tristan opened his eyes and glanced over at Myles, who had tried to intervene but been pushed away as Adonis honed his focus in on Tristan. At school, Myles had always been seen as this catty, bitchy guy, and Tristan had known that, but still that magnetic force between them had existed anyway because he’d seen something beyond that image. And just now, he’d proven that feeling right because he’d tried to help. He could’ve just run, and Tristan wouldn’t have blamed him for that, but he’d stayed and tried to help even though he didn’t need to.

Tristan wasn’t sure if he could pull Adonis back from the brink, but Myles was still an easy save. He’d had been pulled into this altercation against his will, but Myles still had a chance to get out.

“Myles, run!”

The words tore through his throat as he launched himself at Adonis, throwing in as much of his weight as he could manage as he tackled the other boy to the ground.

Adonis didn't even have time to be hurt by Tristan telling Myles to run away from the scene; as it was clear to Adonis that Tristan saw him as a threat and maybe if Adonis had been thinking more rationally before everything just went to crap for him. Maybe he would have agreed with Tristan and he wouldn't be trying to pull the knife out of Tristan's grip. He didn't know why he was trying to provoke Tristan and his mind was more or less just focusing on the weapon that Tristan still had. He had to get it and then he could just disappear without hurting anyone. It was a simple plan!

"Tristan, you-"

Adonis was caught off-guard for a moment as Tristan was launching his body weight against Adonis and Adonis felt himself slipping backwards, feeling something like dread taking over him. All he could think about the knife that was pointing towards him as they were falling to the ground and he felt himself panicking as he pointing the knife in a different direction as they landed on the ground together. He groaned softly as Tristan was on top of him and he was trying to think more clearly in their situation. All he had to do is get Tristan off of him and then he could bail on the two boys while feeling guilty about his actions.

He realized that the knife was stuck and then he yanked it down a little, feeling it not being stuck anymore. He raised the knife up a little and he saw some blood.... Wait a minute.... B-Blood?!

Adonis looked down in a panic and he saw the blood that was around the area of Tristan's stomach, feeling like his heart skipped a beat in fear and disbelief.

"No, no, no...! Tristan...!" He said in desperation as he was more awake now and he threw the knife away from them a little, trying to stay calm. "I-I didn't.... I.... Y-You.... N-no, no, n-n-n-no..."

Tristan had never been in a fight before; not a physical one at least. He’d done the odd bit of stage combat before, had taken in some advice on footwork and basic safety that ought to have come in handy here, but all of that went out the window the second he and Adonis tumbled to the ground. He found his breathe tugged out of his lungs, and took a second to try and regain his bearings as Adonis struggled and panicked beneath him.

Almost distantly, he heard a dull ‘schlick’ and with it came a dull ache in his side that quickly blossomed into a fiery burn. A scream that tore his vocal chords broke through his lips and his hands instinctively reached for the spot of pain. He glanced down as he clasped his palms over his chest, fearful at what he might see but unable to look away. A faint dampness that blended with the colour of his shirt was starting to spread out with alarming speed, and as he lifted his hands he found them dripping dark red.

Adonis scrambled away and was rambling words Tristan couldn’t quite make out as a whirlpool of realisations slammed into him. He tried to back pedal, to pull himself up, but even the slightest movements seemed to drain him of what energy he had. He’d been so stupid; he was usually so unimpulsive and one moment of letting his emotions lead him had landed him on the ground, a soft squelching rising from the tear in his chest as he aimlessly dragged himself along. For a second, he wanted to hurt Adonis back, but that flame of a thought flickered out almost as soon as it was ignited. He was too tired for an emotion like that, now. He couldn’t see Myles from where he was, couldn’t tell if the boy had heeded his cry and fled, or if he was mere inches away.

He didn’t want to die. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to save someone, anyone, and he couldn’t tell if he’d even managed it with Myles. There were so many missed opportunities, so many mistakes he’d made and he thought he’d have the time to rectify them. Thinking he had time was yet another thing he could add to that list of errors.

Tristan closed his eyes. He didn’t want to be here. Everything was getting heavier; even keeping his eyes open was proving a little too much, now. He wanted to be home, and that wasn’t a place -- it was with friends, drinking and being merry, or on stage, belting with passion under a burning spotlight, or even just dancing in someone’s arms. But the burn in his side was no spotlight, and the boy who’d hurt him was no friend.

Tristan had never been a leading player -- on stage or off it. He was always a follower, trailing behind his friends and being their backup, or a supporting role in whatever show he busied himself with. And he’d contented himself with it. It was a role that suited him well -- he thrived in it, even. He didn’t need to be the centre of attention to catch people’s eyes or make a splash. He supposed he’d fulfilled that role again now; just a footnote in bigger player’s stories.

He opened his eyes one more time, saw a fading blur of grey hovering above him. With one last burst of energy, he croaked out a few, final words.

“Don’t forget me.”

He didn’t know who they were for.

B020 -- TRISTAN O’HARA: DECEASED

Adonis watched for a few seconds as Tristan was now laying on the ground and he felt himself not wanting to move from where he was. But his side of wanting to be a good person was taking over and he found himself crawling over to where Tristan had fallen, feeling himself trying to not cry. How could he have done this? This wasn't supposed to happen. Tristan wasn't supposed to get hurt by him and now Adonis was going to have to face the consequences of his actions.

Adonis put his hands over the bloody wound and he was trying to keep pressure on it, feeling himself crying more and his words had turned into an unintelligible mess as Tristan wouldn't stop bleeding. Adonis felt like such an idiot for what he had done to the other boy and he was never going to be able to take this back. If only he hadn't lost his emotions like that. If only he listened to Tristan's words. If only.... If only....

"Don't forget me."

Adonis felt like he couldn't breathe and he realized that Tristan wasn't breathing or moving anymore. He shakily moved his hands away from the wound and he was staring down at the blood on his hands. Tristan's blood....

…He was a murderer.

He had killed Tristan. Even if he hadn't meant for it to happen; he was now going to have to live for it for as long as he was alive. He was still staring down at Tristan's body in silence and he felt a lot of guilt with a heavy heart.

Adonis responded to Myles's completely benign attempt at calming him down with a shove, which was rude, and when Myles stumbled back, he slipped on the wet grass and ended up falling on his behind, which was ruder.

He didn't even have time to be upset about it before everything spiraled wildly out of control in the span of a few seconds.

Run? Why did he need to run? Just back up and don't let Adonis get his hands on the knife, it wasn't that hard, and then there was the shout and the squelch, and Tristan and Adonis were tangled on the ground, and it had all happened in the time that it took Myles to stagger back to his feet.

"What," he said.

Adonis was kneeling over Tristan now.

Tristan wasn't moving.

"Tristan," Myles said, tone half-questioning.

Tristan didn't say anything.

Myles took an unsteady step forward. His jacket had slipped off his shoulders since he didn't have his arms through the sleeves, and it was laying in a heap on the wet, muddy grass, and he almost turned back to pick it up out of instinct but something bumped off the side of his shoe as he moved, and when he looked down, he saw that the dagger's blade was red.

"Babe," Myles said, but he couldn't lift his eyes from the knife to see if Tristan reacted.

He should, right? Even if he was hurt? Even if it was bad, real bad, lethally bad, he should still be struggling and speaking, and he couldn't have just died when Myles wasn't even fucking looking.

But nobody answered him.

Slowly and mechanically, Myles bent and picked up the knife. Some of the blood on its blade ran off with the rain, but not all. It looked much bigger in Myles's hand than it had in Tristan's.

"Adonis." His voice cracked.