Survival Of The Fittest

[+] This spoiler includes the original post that was vetoed by staff and is therefore no longer canon. I only leave it here because I dislike deleting stuff forever.

KNACK!

The bench showed little resistance when Daenerys kicked it apart.

((Daenerys "D" Todd continued from Ursa Major Meltdown))

After her short stint in the quarters, she had decided to pay the building labelled "Recreation" a visit. There was no speyial reasoning behind it. Recreation sounded as appealing as any other place on the island right now. As it turned out, the building featured a gym emptied of anything useful... and two changing rooms still containing lockers and wooden benches.

The benches were just what D needed.

With the current weather, most wood outside would be some sort of damp. But this benches had been standing in windowless rooms for godknowsholong. A quick test proved them to be dry and old enough for easy disassembling.

Surely this was no ordinary camping trip, but the first priority on her mind was still protection against the elements. A nice campfire would give her - and potential allies - a boon over everyone else. In a few days, the whole class would be freezing to their bones and get significantly weakened. While Daenerys and those knowing how to camp would also be weakened, but not as much as the couch potatoes running around like headless chicken or the psychos who burnt their energy in the first days trying to kill everyone.

After disassembling the first bench, Daenerys started to sorted the broken pieces, picking out the ones she found best suited and dropped them into her cooler. Thankfully, said cooler was big enough to fit in more than the dozen cans.

Aware that she had made quite a few sounds when destroying the bench, D worked quickly.

((Daenerys "D" Todd continued from Ursa Major Meltdown))

After her short stint in the quarters, Daenerys decided to pay the building labelled "Recreation" a visit. There was no special reasoning behind it. Recreation sounded as appealing as any other place on the island right now. There she found a gym emptied of anything useful... and two changing rooms still containing lockers and a few metallic benches. They also had two exits each, opening the possibility of bolting through one of them if danger should enter from the other one. In other words, a nice spot to sit down for a bit.

The beer had started to set in, causing her to feel a little wobbly. Surely beat being fully sober and scared, if only by a little. She abstained from opening another can.

D knew little about SOTF, but a lot about camping in the woods. For better or worse, this was her strongest advantage over most of the class. On this cold island, saving your strenght was important. In a few days, the whole class would be freezing to their bones and get significantly weakened. Daenerys and those smart enough would also be weakened, but not as much as the couch potatoes running around like headless chicken or the psychos who burnt their energy in the first days trying to kill everyone. And that was when she would start to take action. It wasn't something she looked forward to, but something she acknowledged as necessary to ensure her survival. If she wasn't going to go for the win, D wouldn't have bothered leaving her cell in the first place.

Sitting on the bench next to one of the doors, she closed her eyes.

There were no birds to be heard.

((Corbin Azinger continued from DOWNFALL))

There was a sound behind the door to the gym. Irritated grunting, someone fumbling at the knob.

Then the door suddenly swung open, the boy behind it falling forward and faceplanting onto the floor, his trident loudly clattering as it fell next to him. He lay there for a moment, twitching and groaning in agony.

"Aaaaoooooww..."

"Okay, so."

A voice echoed out from elsewhere.

"As I turn this corner, there's a chance I get shot. Keep that in mind. It's unlikely, but it could still happen. I'm just saying that to warn you. I'll say things like that to keep you informed when I can.

"Thank me later."

S031: ABHISHEK PANICKER — CONTINUED FROM "Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti"

A footstep, then another, was audible. Then, a figure stepped into the room. Abhishek waltzed in like he owned the place, posture like a peacock. In his right hand, the boy held his jury-rigged weapon, which first trailed along the ground behind him. Then, he hefted it up, resting it along his shoulder.

A grin crept across his face as he looked out across the gym. There was nothing but familiar faces. All of them knew him and his deal, for better or worse. It was the perk of being the local eccentric, the perennial candidate—people knew you from the moment you walked through the door.

He knew them. Corbin was always an easy target—a couple of words, and he'd give you the reaction you wanted. It was as simple as plugging numbers into an equation. D was a bit smarter, a bit more able to fire back at him. Also, he was pretty sure she was still mad about the election thing, and that was fucking hilarious, to be honest.

The point was simple: these two were predictable. Abhishek knew what made them tick. He knew how far he could push them before they'd react, how close to the edge he could drive them and get away with it. As far as he was concerned, that made him safe.

"Hey, no surprise to see you two here." Abhishek said, with a careless wave, "After all, misery loves company."

Listening closely, Daenerys heard both of them coming.

Damn. Of course she hadn't expected two persons entering from both doors at the same time. But the good news was that this didn't appear to be a coordinated move. One boy practically fell into the room while the other talked to thin air.

The boy who fell practically in front of her was Corbin LastNameUnknown, a fittness dude. Daenerys heard he was often hiking, so odds were he had the knowledge to make it far into the game, similar to her.

The boy entering on the other end of the room was Abhishek Panicker. Abhishek was... uh... hm... he was simply Abhishek. His greeting showed that being thrown into SOTF hadn't change that, for better or worse.

The trident that had to be Corbin's weapon lay close to her feet. For a moment, D considered upgrading her armory by grabbing the thing and making a run for it. But she would have to leave the cooler behind, didn't know the area well enough for a safe escape and Corbin might be faster than her. Plus she had no idea how Abhi would react.

So she supposed it was time to play nice for now.

Giving Abhi's words exactly as much attention as they deserved (read: none), D stood up and went to the fallen Corbin to offer him a hand.

"Hey, you okay down there?"

Corbin managed to shakily push himself off the ground, though his arms wobbled under him so badly it looked like he almost might fall again. He looked up at the girl, his attempt at looking stern and unbothered undercut by his newly-bloodied nose and the vicious gash in his forehead.

"I'm fine."

He was very pointedly ignoring Abhishek. If there was anything Corbin understood about that moron by now, it's how desperate he was for attention. Right now he needed help, loathe as he was to admit it, not some weird wannabe-revolutionary deliberately pushing his buttons.

"Just... my ankle, is all."

He still wasn't sure how badly done in it was. It'd been torture to walk on it this far, even with the help of the trident for support.

"I..."

He paused. He'd already hesitate to ask for help in front of anybody, but he was particularly reticent to do that in front of Abhishek, of all people, even if he wasn't the person Corbin was actually pleading with. It was weak and vulnerable, and those were things Corbin wasn't remotely used to being. Certainly not publicly.

He hung his head low, staring at the floor, finishing the sentence with an ashamed mumble.

"I need help."

Abhishek frowned. It seemed they'd wisened up a little. There was no reaction, like a noble gas. Oh, well, no shame—where there was a will, there was a way. He'd get what he wanted: because, in the end, why wouldn't he?

He wasn't stupid, though. This resistance meant that he needed to change tactics. You couldn't just bluster forward with provocations until someone blew up at you, not here—that wouldn't get you anything. There had to be a little finesse.

That meant finding an opportunity: the right moment to wedge yourself somewhere you had no right to be. Their country did it all the time, so why shouldn't he? Abhishek smirked again. He'd find the lever and pull this situation apart.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy, huh?" he muttered, voice dripping with acid. "Good going, soldier—think they'll give you a purple heart for this?"

Man, he couldn't resist. Abhishek knew it was awful, but that gallows humor was too good to miss. Black as pitch. It was wrong, but what the fuck—why not? His head turned to D, and he shrugged. His smirk widened into a Cheshire cat grin.

"He needs help; guessing we're TRICARE now, eh? I'll bite. Think not what your country can do for you, et cetera."

Daenerys did her best to not look anywhere near Abhi while she watched Corbin's feeble attempts at getting up on his own until they were met with success. As the boy pointed out, his ankle was hurt. In addition to that, he had injured his face during his entrance.

Both spoke against him as an ally. Especially the ankle. But D wasn't going to give up on the boy that fast.

"Okay," D replied to his request for help. "Sit down on this bench. There should be a medkit in your bag. I am no medic, but I will see what I can do."

She slightly emphasized "your bag". Her own supplies were for herself, after all.

Also there was an annoying commmunist-wannabe babbling in the background.

Corbin shot a cold, furious glare at Abhishek. Like his situation wasn't dreadful enough, the little freak had to go and make everything even worse as usual. What was his problem, anyway? Why couldn't he just act like a normal person?

But it didn't matter. D was actually helping him now, and that's all he needed - even if she was making a pointed effort of using his supplies over her own. But maybe that was fair enough; Corbin had gotten himself into this mess, after all. It wasn't like he could actually apply any of it to himself, so it was probably fine to make him provide it.

He managed to get himself over to and up on the bench D had pointed him to, placing the provided bag of supplies next to him. Before he started rummaging through it, he gave Abhishek yet another withering look.

"Ya just gonna stand there mouthing off, or..."

"Hey, I could use a bit more appreciation." Abhishek said, with a not-so-innocent smile, "Say the magic word."

One hand lowered the bat and gently propped it against the empty weight rack. Then, both hands formed a mocking p-shape. One last smirk and Abhishek decided that enough was enough—he'd had his fun, and they'd tune him out if he ran with it. All good things must come to an end, and so forth. He rolled up his sleeves and got ready to get to work.

"And for the record, I don't think any of that's gonna help." he said, tilting his head towards the first aid kit. "No offense, but we don't even know what we're dealing with—twist, sprain, fracture, break."

You know, Abhishek never expected that trip to a field-medic workshop would've come in handy for something. The other Vanguard members were at protests way more than he was: he'd always been an armchair activist, the mightiest of keyboard comrades. He didn't remember everything—not any of the important shit, anyway—but he remembered the basic premise.

"We've got to identify the injury, so take off the curb-stompers." he rolled his eyes, "We need a better look."

Corbin grimaced at the response. He hadn't quite expected Abhishek to actually start helping, and worse still, to keep being an annoying little shit while he did it. Now Corbin couldn't even really get mad at him mouthing off, and was gonna have to sit there and take it. Absolutely infuriating, and there was no way it wasn't on purpose. Obnoxious little goblin probably couldn't help himself.

He grumbled, untying his boot. He grabbed both the boot and the sock and pulled them off together, wincing as he did so; the pain in his ankle flared savagely at seemingly every movement. He dropped the boot to the floor and propped his foot up on the bench; he could see his ankle was discolored and swollen, though it didn't seem to have any visible deformities he'd expect in a break. Still, he'd let Abhishek be the judge of it, provided he could do so without giving any lip.

Abhishek looked at Corbin's ankle for a moment. His head tilted slightly, and he scratched at his chin in a manner that was, obviously, somewhat put-on. Still, he didn't plan on trying to lie through his teeth. Could he? Yeah, probably. But what did that gain him? Nothing.

If he said it was better than it was, they'd figure it out soon enough. If he said it was worse, well, what did that do? Other than putting the fear of God into Corbin—more than it already was, anyway. Whatever. It just made more sense to say it straight.

"Okay, so—I don't have a medical license," he said, tone betraying nothing, "so keep that in mind. You don't get to sue me later. But, still: prognosis looks like a sprain. I'm prescribing rest, ice, and whatever anti-inflammatories they've got in the bags."

Thankfully, Abhi had decided to finally exit his trolling-mode. As much as he was a pain in the ass most of the time, he knew when to shut up.

Meanwhile, Daenerys had helped herself to Corbin's medkit. After rummaging in it, she took out the things that might prove useful in the current situation and put them on the nearest bench.

"Here. Some of these should help."

Then she stood up, reevaluated the situation and made a decision.

"I will go outside and collect some snow to for the foot. Don't try to get killed while I am away."

Quickly, D left the room in the direction of the door leading into the hallway.

Judging from how she took all of her belongings, it seemed unlikely that she planned to return.

((Daenerys "D" Todd continued in November Has Come))

Corbin scowled, glaring at the injured ankle. Under normal circumstances, it being a sprain and not a break would be a good thing, but here both were equally a problem. How was he supposed keep off of it? What if he had to defend himself, or run away? The idea of leaving his boot off and putting ice on the ankle was similarly unappealing, given how cold their environment was; that seemed like a great way to develop frostbite more than anything. He'd rather just down whatever painkillers they'd been given - if any - and try his best to grin and bear it.

He sighed. It seemed he was practically doomed no matter what.

"Right," he muttered, sighing again. "Mind maybe checking out this next?"

He pointed to the ragged gash on his forehead.

"I can't see it, but it... hurts pretty bad."

Abhishek paused a moment. When D left the room, he'd expected her to stick around—abandoning them so blatantly would've been a bad look. But, then, he heard the sound of her footsteps disappear into the distance, like the final pitter-patter sounds of an abetting rain. And then, they faded.

So much for that, he guessed. Abhishek resisted the urge to shrug. The twenty dollars felt a little heavier in his pocket than before. Oh, well. Still, a part of him was annoyed. Her leaving meant he had to do marginally more work, which was, to be honest, kind of a buzzkill.

And, to be honest, he would've liked to get out of tending to their wounded veteran. Abhishek did not particularly want to touch his face. Sorry, ladies and gentlemen and those who are neither, but there was only enough room in his heart for one person.

But D had already slinked away—thanks, buddy—so the responsibility fell on him anyway. Honestly, she didn't even deserve the twenty bucks. So, like, fuck her, but that aside, he didn't have much choice. He rolled his eyes openly.

"Man, you're so needy," he said, obviously disgruntled, "How long am I gonna have to play nurse for you?"

He looked at the supplies D had left on the bench and grabbed the antiseptic wipes. Not knowing—or, to be honest, particularly caring—about the specifics, he leaned in and began to wipe the blood from Corbin's fucked-up Hunt Down the Freeman-looking face.

Corbin bit his lip, glaring at Abhishek. The urge to bite back at him was intense, but he knew he couldn't do that. D had abandoned them, so now Corbin was solely reliant on him and had to just sit there and take it. He shut his eyes, wincing a bit as Abhishek brought the antiseptic wipe to the injury, and left them closed as the other boy tended to it. He was tense, breathing heavily, though not because of the pain. He didn't want people touching his face, especially not a boy and especially not a boy like Abhishek. But it wasn't like he had a choice, so he was just gonna have to grin and bear it.