Survival Of The Fittest

All things aside, the sofa had been comfy.

((Dawn Montogomery continued from Every Planet We Reach Is Dead))

A part of Dawn knew that she should be trying to reunite with David. Or with Fitz. Or with Madeline. Or with anyone who was still alive, really.

A part of Dawn knew that the asian sword should be useful.

A part of Dawn recognized the girl lying in front of the bar.

A part of Dawn knew she couldn't afford to lay on the sofa, now that the announcement had played.

But there was another part of her who wanted to never get up again.

Why couldn't this part win?

Her bones ached when she slowly stood up. Her sense of time had left her alone days ago, but there was light shining into the room, so it was probably morning or noon.

Another day in hell. This time, as a look out the nearest window told her, with even more snow.

Fantastic. This would be a perfect time to build another snowman.

((Matthew Bell continued from Say No to the World))

Even from down the hall, Matthew could smell that familiar copper scent. He wasn't enough of an expert in dead people to tell how long the guy in the room up ahead had been dead, but considering he was gonna peek in now, he figured that he'd figure the case of this specific dead body out pretty soon.

His left ear was still a little fucked, but that wasn't going to change until he got out of here, and he wasn't fucked up enough to consider putting the gun to his chin and doing a Dwyer Special. He had an admittedly self-appointed job to do, no matter what the bleeding hearts across the island thought of it, and if Matthew ended up dying making sure that some son of a bitch with a taste for killing innocent people wouldn't be killing anyone any longer, seemed like a good trade.

Just in case, he pulled the gun out and flipped the safety off.

Then from around the door, a head slowly peeked, taking in the scene of the rec room.

Dawn noticed the door opening. To be more exact, she spotted the new source of light illuminating the room a little bit.

From her position, staying hidden was unlikely. But then again, why would she want to hide?

Dawn hated that she had an answer to this question.

"Hello," she spoke carefully, as if testing how the syllables felt on her lips. "It's me, Dawn. I mean no harm.

"... It's not like I have a weapon anyway."

He recognised the dead body of Ty before he recognised the living Dawn. She'd died yesterday, taken out by Daenerys, who in turn got taken out by Chiara. They'd never, uh, seen eye to eye before, and that was a pretty big understatement, Matthew was pretty sure that she hated his goddamn ass for how he was in freshman year. Didn't bother him none, though. You'd always have haters, and he had enough bros to counter the haters.

Most of those bros weren't bros anymore, though. They were murderers or bodies.

Dawn, on the other hand, wasn't either. Sure, she'd killed someone a few days ago, he couldn't really remember who, but Danya had stressed that it was a failed surgery or some shit. She wasn't murdering people and while Matthew thought it was a really fucking stupid idea to try surgery on this island, it wasn't murder.

Maybe manslaughter, but he wasn't that inflexible.

Pressing the door open with his shoulder, Matthew stepped into the room, flicking the gun's safety off and shoving it back into his waistband.

"Long as you don't try and start shit, I'm not gonna start shit either." With a shrug of his shoulders, he observed the room. Christ, this place looked like a bomb had went off in it and that wasn't even counting the dead body and all the blood scattered around the joint. Smashed TV, old ass tapes with their guts strewn across the room, a shattered neon sign and, uh, yeah that was about it.

Blowing air out of his cheeks as an exaggerated sigh, he took a few steps further into the room. He didn't fully trust Dawn, no, but she hadn't murdered anyone and that made her about as trustworthy as you could get here. For her, it might be a bit freaky to see the muscular Matthew marching into the room after having killed two guys in one go, but still. She could always leave if she didn't like him.

((Crystal Henderson continued from This Tape Will Self Destruct In Five Seconds))

Matthew wasn't the only one approaching the rec room.

Crystal had thought to move on somewhere, after the announcements played. Maybe back to the village. More places to hunker down. Maybe back to the pass. More opportunities for ambushes. Maybe just walk and see where her doom took her.

Her doom was to see a figure moving for the rec center, and also that it was cold and the icy air burned her lungs and the bullet wound burned her side and without the immediate adrenaline from before she decided that maybe walking a lot was actually not required.

She did think about going back to her hiding place in one of the rooms and fading into unobtrusiveness, but no. There were still whetstones to be had, and she wanted to know what was happening here anyways.

And so she moved, slow and steady, towards the door, weapon in hand but not pointed currently. She would see how this would play out once the other—others?—spoke. Until then, it was all malleable.

Matthew Bell.

A classmate Dawn rarely interacted with at John Endecott Memorial. She knew he was big into army-stuff and knew a few of his friends better than she knew him, but that was that.

More importantly, he had killed two people recently. He was a murderer, just like her.

And yet he replied to Dawn's admission of temporary pacifism in kind. Or at least claimed to do so. For all she knew, that was how he got his victims to lower their guard.

Dawn shook her head. Thinking like this would just drag her down faster.

"I would normally say hello or wish you a good day or something, but such formalities are completely hollow at this place. So... thanks for not shooting me."

An awkward pause threatened the conversation.

"If you are hurt, I will see what I can do," she offered.

"I don't think I saw any of your closer friends. Sorry." she proclaimed.

"I am kinda teamed up with David at the moment. David Worth. Have you seen him around?" she inquired.

All just to avoid asking what was really on her mind.

The other day, someone implied something bad happened to Ethan. Do you know something? What happened? Is he fine?

But Dawn didn't dare to. Partly because she was scared of the answers. Partly because she didn't want to have this conversation with someone she barely knew.

So she just said her pieces, her attempts at holding a conversation, all the while saying nothing of value at all.

((David Worth continued from Echoes In My Head))

Donovan ...

"Fourth vote, and the winner of Survior: Year of the Terrier ... Sayaka"

Sayaka's face officially broke into a smile, but it wasn't her face that was the significant one. It was cut from the final edit, bur her opponent sat there with a shocked look on his face.

"No ... no! It's not fair!" His tone rose as seven unsympathetic faces of the jury stared back at him. "I played better than any of you. I earned this!"

Donovan had played his guts out to the detriment of his social game. He didn't even get a single vote from the jury.

Daenerys...

"Fifteenth person voted out and the eighth member of our jury ... D, for Daenerys."

Daenerys smiled as she handed her pink merge buff to David. The smile was a little tight, though. She'd almost made it to the final five and the weeklong gauntlet of said final five, and she'd been eliminated.

Billie ...

"I need to, uh... use the bathroom. I'll be back in a little bit, I just need some privacy right now."

Those were her last words to David. They were going to die, and the last words she said were as if there wasn't any danger.

There hadn't been any danger, until there was danger. And as he looked around, going towards the voices in the next room, there was danger for him.

Crystal Henderson. She'd been on the announcements, as the one who killed Donovan. That was one thing. The other was the rifle in her hand. The grip on his gun tightened as his steps slowed down, the resulting footfalls becoming quieter. His gun wasn't up yet, but his thumb was on the handle, ready to fire. This was gonna suck.

Dawn did seem a little nervous at his approach, shaking her head a little as if she was knocking some sense into herself or tryna get her brain back in working condition. Matthew didn't blame her, though. Danya didn't exactly frame what he did - hell, what any of them did - in a good light, and that train of thought got him to wondering if Danya had misrepresented some of the people he wanted to kill's positions and then that train of thought was purposefully derailed to stop him thinking about it too hard.

"I'm good for medical care. Uh, I patched myself up as best as I can and what I didn't patch up probably isn't shit that anyone other than a doctor or a surgeon or whatever could patch up. Not gonna die anytime soon from it, though." Just in case, Matthew bit his lip about his ear being fucky. It was a disadvantage, and yeah, Dawn was kind and nice and all that shit but he still couldn't trust that she wouldn't end up blabbing about it to someone else in all her friendliness. Sucked, but that was this fucking place for you.

Moving over, Matthew plopped himself down on the sofa with a satisfied sigh and a little creak of protest from the furniture. "David Worth, uh... he the guy who was weirdly obsessed with that one show? The guy who like, kept doing school versions of that one show, uh, shit what was it called..." Matthew furrowed his brow with a slight groan, leaning back against the sofa. "Anyway, uh, haven't seen him. And, uh, I'm only really looking for Shaun and Salem at the moment. Maybe Dani, I dunno. Appreciate the info, though."

Did he want to ask her if she'd seen any players or not? Because, yeah, she'd killed a person, and maybe she'd react and think that he's taking a dig at her and then maybe she'd go fight-or-flight and oops, an innocent person's bleeding out on the floor and joining Ty.

Nah.

"So, uh, you haven't got a weapon, yeah? Want me to take a dig at pulling the sword out of the bar? It's no like, sword in the stone Excalibur type shit but it's better than nothing." And besides, just from looking at Ty's body, you could tell it was... suitable for killing.

God. What a fucking waste. At least Daenerys got what she fucking deserved.

Inside they were talking. A casual interaction, void of suspicion. Blissfully unaware. Did they know what a risk that was? What if someone was nearby, unknown to them? What if somebody was sneaking up? What if somebody had a semi-automatic rifle, and had now been cast as a killer? What if their deaths would serve to hone an edge?

What if there were more people sneaking than just the one, though? What then?

Crystal tended to set plans and routines, and one of the ones she had decided on early was to take nothing for granted and to keep her guard up. Thus, she did glance around herself every now and then, and in doing so she caught sight of the newcomer.

His quiet footsteps, however, meant that this happened only when she did her periodic check—far too late for her to have any sort of advantage or to control the situation. She was facing the wrong way, weapon pointed nowhere near him. Shooting was off the table. In a way, it was a relief to not have to make the decision whether or not to let Danya take over. In another, she was nervous, because who could say what decision would be made for her?

At least she hadn't over-committed. For all any of them knew, she was just seeing what was happening. For all she knew, it was even true.

"H—" she began, but her throat was dry and she coughed and licked her lips before she could speak.

"Hello. I think.. someone's already in this one."

Crystal took two steps back away from the door again, slow and careful, no sudden movements. She was just leaving anyways, right?

"Survivor." Dawn specified when Matthew had trouble remembering David's favorite show. "I was in two of the seasons. They were a little weird sometimes, but overall fun." She managed a smile when thinking back at the contest with Zhijuan and Abhishek and Mitch and Daenerys and Donovan and some other kids who were probably rotting away on this island right now. Back then Dawn would never have guessed that this would be the times she later looked back as the "good old days".

Matthew's offer about freeing the sword served well in bringing her back to the present. She stared at the weapon that was stuck in wood for a few seconds, as if trying to decypher the future that obtaining it would bring. Ultimately, she shook her head.

"Thanks, but no thanks. The first time I grabbed a weapon, I tried to help someone and only created more misery. I will not participate in any more violence, so I have no need for any weapon from here on out."

It was a hollow declaration, sounding even dumber when she said it out loud. But it was her decision, and sticking with it was among the last things she had left.

Apart from the memorial, of course.

"So if you want the sword for yourself, I can help you pull it out." She dared to make a demand. "If you tell me what you want to do with it."

Someone was in there, but ...

"Do you know who's in there? Or ..." David was more interested in where Crystal had gotten her gun. She'd killed someone. Did she take it off a corpse, or was it given to her at the start? Ugh, things were so goddamn complicated.

Crystal looked at him. Her breathing was not slow and steady, not like she'd practiced. The hole in her hand ached. Her side felt hot. Danya whispered in her ear, gently wrapped his fingers around hers, but with a shiver she shook him off.

Cinderblocks and whetstones. She'd dulled herself already. Too many mistakes. Too many chances for something to go wrong. It was far too complicated.

"No," she said, almost a whisper, "I don't."

Step by step, moving backwards.

"Maybe you should check."

Step by step.

"I was just leaving anyways."

She stumbled on the next step, but luckily had removed her finger from the trigger. She caught herself against the wall, giving a cry as the impact jostled everything broken in her again. In that moment, her panic spiked. Eyes wide, she looked at the boy for a second more, then turned and sprinted away.

((Crystal Henderson continued in Passing The Baton))

"Yeah! Yeah, that show. Survivor. Uh, I think he asked me once but honestly I didn't really give a shit. Thought it was weird, but it was harmless. And besides, he's not exactly going around and murdering people or some psychotic shit, so yeah, he's chill." That was the divide in Matthew's head; murderer or not. Even if you were an asshole or thought he was one, as long as you weren't a mass murdering sociopath he was willing to break bread, bury the hatchet, shake hands, whatever the fuck. Because that was the divide on this island. Those who were wiling to murder their classmate, and those who weren't.

He fell into the same category as Katelyn and Josh, yeah. You could argue that Matthew was no better than those two. And it had crossed his mind a few times.

But he was defending innocent people, not murdering them. That was the divide.

"I don't need it. I already have something for up close, and besides, not like I'm gonna let people get up close to me with my little buddy." Even still, Matthew started to work on yanking the sword outta the bar. It looked like a katana or some shit, so maybe if he used it he could awaken some latent samurai spirit inside him that would lead him to victory like this was some shitty shonen or something. The thought, dumb as it was, still brought a little smile to his face.

Though, as Matthew explained what he was doing to Dawn, it slowly faded.

"What I'm doing is hunting down the fuckers who are going around murdering people. Katelyn and her little friend Kai, Josh, Salem, the kinda fuckers who woke up on this island day one and started to follow that little rat bastard Danya's orders to murder. Because it's the only thing I can do other than curl in a ball and wait for one of the psychos to creep up on me and murder me. I have a gun, so may as well aim it at our common enemies."

Someone screamed outside, and like so many of his thought trains yesterday, this one derailed. Really needed to take a look at those rails.

Pulling the gun out from his waistband, Matthew flipped around, flicked the safety off and aimed it at the door. "Behind me." The order was barked at Dawn. Who was it? Katelyn and her friend? Josh? One of the more minor killers who'd cropped up on the island?

Matthew's remark sent a shiver down her spine.

Didn't he see the flaw in this argument? Their enemies were the terrorists, not the players. Trying to keep others safe was noble, but Matthew was going on it in the completely wrong way.

Before she could voice her disagreement, a scream from outside demanded attention. Matthew instantly flipped a mental switch into danger-mode, telling Dawn to get behind him.

She obliged. In most situations, listening to experts tended to be the better course of action. And disturbingly as it was, Matthew was an expert. The announcement had told her that much.

"Just don't shoot first, okay?" She inquired while taking position behind a couch. "Maybe it is someone who needs help."

David just shrugged and rolled his eyes at Crystal's sudden exit. She was probably just paranoid. His eyes instead settled on the door. There were people behind that door. Of course, he didn't know anything about those people, but still, there were people there.

He just breathed in, breathed out, and walked up to the door, knocking with his free hand.