the smell of dust and moonlight

[almostinhuman]

((Corbin Azinger continued from KILL THIS ARROGANT MOTH ER FU CKER))

Alone again.

He should have seen it coming, really. He and Matt had hunkered down and gone to sleep in one of the neighborhood houses, but Corbin had woken up there all alone. Maybe it was that momentary hesitation, that second of doubt. Maybe it was how badly crippled Corbin was, a dead weight Matt couldn't afford to carry. Maybe they'd never actually been as good friends as Corbin had thought they were. It didn't matter, he supposed. All that mattered was that he was gone. Him and Amaryllis and Lily and D. They'd all made the same choice, even if they all had their own reasons.

He should have been mad. On some base level, he kind of was. But mostly he was tired. Nobody wanted him and nobody was gonna bother caring for his crippled ass. He may as well have died when he fell off that roof. At least then he wouldn't be stuck wandering around with his busted leg and shattered pride, facing an increasingly-painful string of rejection.

He'd limped away from the abandoned homes, out into the wilderness. He'd told himself he was doing it for safety's sake. If nobody was willing to defend him and tend to him, he would be safest as far away from others as possible. But deep down, he knew why he was really out here.

He was coming out here to die.

[DerArknight]

Not too far from Corbin's position, another student had embraced the wild life in search of avoiding others.

Only that she had come out here to live.

((Daenerys "D" Todd continued from Feel Good Inc.))

Over a day had passed since her last interactions with humans, and Daenerys dared to start being slightly positive about how things were going. Her camp was situated in the middle of a particularly thick set of trees and rocks. The better part of yesterday had been spent by adding whatever she could find lying around to make the bushes even thicker. The remaining twigs had been used to make a small bed. It may have sounded overly luxurious, but sleeping on cold ground took away a lot of body heat D couldn't afford to lose.

The only downside was that her camp lay in visible distance to the place marked as The Snowfield on the terrorist's map. Meaning people came by now and then. Meaning once the Danger Zones came by, it would be easier to get out compared to hiding out deep in the forest. As always, there were pros and cons.

The same went for the campfire burning in front of her. On one hand, it had given her warmth over the day. On the other, it would become a beacon once night hit. Very soon, she would have to kill it, but right now she still suffered through one tasteless food bar rushed down with a gulp of water.

Roberta's parting gift rested next to her, stuck in the snow. Abhi's parting gift was the reason one third of her face now hid behind bandages. It still stung now and then, but the stitch-job had proved sufficient.

When announcing Abhi's passing, Danya had made a snide remark about his death being pointless because Daenerys already got one kill. She found this very hypocritical. After all, they had been given the instructions to be the last one standing, that everyone died if no one killed for a day and that the winner needed one kill. If everyone only killed the one person they had to kill, the result would be half of the students getting blown up once only killers remained. Or did the terrorists want the winner to make it out with as many kills as possible? Was this all some sort of military test to see which survival strategy would preserve?

...

Musing about the motivations of Danya and his minions made D feel sick to the stomach, so she stopped.

[almostinhuman]

Corbin stopped, the haze of doom and despair lifting at what he saw. Smoke emanated from behind the cluster of rocks in front of him. Evidently he was not the only person to wander out here in the hopes of evading others.

He limped towards the hidden camp, as quietly as one could with a sprained ankle. He peeked around the rocks, at the little fire warming...

"... D?"

[DerArknight]

Daenerys heard his steps before her nickname was spoken.

She turned to the voice.

"Corbin." Not a question. Just a statement. After all, Corbin was neither a better nor worse guest than most other classmates. They were neither friends nor had beef with each other. He was neutral.

Still sucked that someone found her camp.

For a moment, D considered bringing up their meeting days ago. But for what reason? To apologize? To say she was glad he had survived? To ask what had happened between him and Abhi? The first two would be lies and the last one no longer mattered.

The real question was if Corbin was looking for trouble. Her right hand hovered over the khopesh stuck in the snow next to her. Thankfully Corbin had appeared to her left.

"Good evening, I guess."

Yeah, that sounded passable.

[almostinhuman]

He'd certainly not thought he'd ever see D again. A stroke of luck, though whether good or bad he wasn't sure he could say.

He limped forward to sit in front of the fire. He didn't especially care how she reacted to this; he's been walking on his busted ankle for hours, and frankly, he was tired. He laid the lacrosse stick and the trident side by side on the ground, before laying his bag directly over them; a sign he intended to use neither. That he wasn't attacking, but he also wasn't going away.

"Been a bit," he said curtly. "How're you holding up?"

[DerArknight]

"... Could be better," Daenerys replied with a slight delay. "I mean I am still alive, which is the only thing that counts out here."

When Corbin made himself home, she didn't object. A part of her knew that she probably should have gone for the weapon the moment the boy appeared. D had settled on ignoring this part. The smart move was to avoid violence unless necessary, and right now it didn't seem necessary. Ater all, Corbin could be useful in many ways. That he managed so far with his damaged ankle showed he was no easy out, and if things went south they didn't know each other good enough that his passing would hurt her more than anyone else on the announcements.

Her left hand gestured to the parts of her face that were mummified.

"Got attacked by Abhi the other day. I trust you heard how it went for him. Haven't met anyone since then. And you?"

Her right hand hovered over the khopesh stuck in the snow next to her.

[almostinhuman]

Corbin had heard of Abhishek's fate at D's hands. He couldn't say the little shit didn't have it coming, really, especially since it sounded like he'd struck the first blow.

"Yeah... yeah, I heard."

He felt like he should have been more satisfied at the news, but he felt almost nothing about it instead. Like D had described a patch of bad weather and not a life-and-death struggle.

"He nailed me pretty good, too," he said, pointing to the barely-healing black eye. "Y'know, after you left me."

His hands fell into his lap. He looked down at them, face inert.

"But no worries," he continued, voice bitingly bitter. "You're not the only one."

[DerArknight]

The conversation died for a few moments, allowing Daenerys to look into the campfire for a bit. It had gotten bigger than planned, so no further wood would be needed for the rest of the evening. There was some more in the cooler, alongside the remaining cans of beer.

Impulsively, she reached into the container and produced one of the cans, quickly opening it and taking a sip. It tasted bad, but improved her mood slightly. Any distraction was better than nothing.

"You want one too?"

Her right hand hovered over the khopesh stuck in the snow next to her.

[almostinhuman]

"... yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."

[DerArknight]

"Here you go."

D tossed him another can.

Her right hand hovered over the khopesh stuck in the snow next to her.

[almostinhuman]

Corbin just barely caught the can as D hurled it at him. For a moment, he stared at the top of it, drumming his fingers along its side. He'd never actually drank anything before. Somehow, even now, the idea sent a pang of guilt through him. Under normal circumstances, it was the exact kind of thing he'd been repeatedly warned away from. Just because his circumstances had become far, far worse wasn't enough for him to suddenly feel kosher getting drunk. It still felt wrong and transgressive, even here on the precipice of death.

...

But, he supposed, it was probably now or never.

Corbin popped the can open. He took a sip, almost gagging on the taste.

"Oh... oh that's foul."

[DerArknight]

Daenerys took another sip, mentally comparing it to the can she opened back in the prison cell before Roberta came in.

"Not a pro on alcohol, but it tasted the same before. Guess this sort of beer simply sucks."

Some silent moments passed in which both teenager drank their less-than-mediocre beverages.

Eventually D's can was empty. Her first instinct was to put it away because littering was a disgusting thing to do. Funny how such habits remained even in situations where they shouldn't matter. Although in this case, cans lying around could point out her camp, so she still went through the motions of shaking it upside-down to get the final drops out and dropped it back into the cooler.

"So, got any plans on how to go forward from here?"

Her right hand hovered over the khopesh stuck in the snow next to her.

[almostinhuman]

Corbin stared down at the now-empty beer can. A hazy, barely-visible reflection of his own battered face looked back at him.

"... no."

He sniffled a bit. A bone-deep ache settled into his chest.

"Unless you're willing to let me stick around... I got nothing."

He couldn't bring himself to look up at her, humiliated as he was at throwing this last little lifeline out. He needed her desperately to grab it, but he couldn't bear saying so out loud.

[DerArknight]

...

...

...

Okay, let's give him another chance.

"That's bad.

"If you don't work towards survival, you are going to die for sure. But that doesn't mean you can't work towards something."

She sighed, looking into the campfire for a bit. Maybe this was the wrong call.

For once, her right hand didn't hover over the khopesh stuck in the snow next to her.

[almostinhuman]

"What's there to even work towards anymore?"

The can dropped from his hand and landed in the snow. He looked D directly in the eye, as if he could find the answer there.

"I had shit to work towards, once. I had a future, I had dreams. I did everything I was supposed to, and it landed me here."

A note of raw anger rung in his voice. The ache in his chest bubbled and burned, boiling away his insides. It was grief and sorrow and rage and terror. It was never going home again. It was futility itself.

"And, like, what's the fucking goal now, anyway? Cling on for as long as possible like it makes a fucking difference if you were the first or tenth or hundreth to die? Hobble around in agony while everyone deserts you because you're too much of a burden? Hope for maybe some Hail Mary chance at getting out so you can go to a home that now may as well be a foreign fucking country?!"

He wasn't sure when, in his little rant, he'd started shouting. His hands had balled into fists, held so tight it was agonizing to uncurl them. The rage cascading out of him left him trembling furiously in its wake.

"I don't wanna do that shit! There's no fucking way forward anymore! I may as well have died when I fell off that goddamn roof and I wish I fucking had because at least then I wouldn't feel so fucking tired and hurt and alone!"

His breath caught suddenly.

"I-I..." he choked, "I just..."

He retreated in on himself, staring into the snow. His face was locked in the same angry frown as before, but his eye betrayed the hurt it masked. As if the entire preceding rant hadn't done enough on that front already.

"I just don't wanna be alone anymore."