trans_9 | Survivalist Plot: Our Tools and Our Reasons

"We can't keep her around." Howard doesn't even want to get attached enough to the girl to call her 'she', and as far as he's concerned she's a liability to all of them, so it's difficult for him to not just go and call her 'it'. "That screaming? She's dead weight, and she's going to get us killed. Not to mention we don't have the medicine to treat that kind of infection. She's dead in a few days at the most."

He actually does look regretful as he suggests it, like he'd rather it not be necessary, but not like he's going to change his mind about it. "Most humane thing to do would be kill her now before she gets time to be afraid. Or if no one wants to do that I'm sure one of the things outside would be happy to do the dirty work for us."

As it's been for most of the night, Cedric says nothing. He stares at the others, conveying clear horror that's visible from his face all the way down to his hand. It rests on the floor gripping his useless wand.

They can't hear it, but Cedric's desperately hoping for a miracle here. He's silently pouring his mental energy into it, as if a strong enough show of will will break the barrier and save her.

No use. He dreads the course of this conversation.

Clef remains silent for a moment, truly considering it. It doesn't pay to react with fear or anger - it wouldn't make for a good argument, and it might only strengthen the opponent's resolve. He remembers his diplomacy training, even as he's shaking a little with shock at the thoughts coming into his head and out of his mouth.

"Here's the problem with that," he replies, placing his hands on his knees to try to steady himself. "We do that now, and-- ...where does it stop? At what point do we decide that someone's a liability - when they're too weak to walk by themselves? When they accidentally lead a monster to camp? When we just don't want to share with them?"

He pauses, breathing deeply and struggling to control his feelings. His temper was so much more fierce now in this deprived state, as though cold-blooded anger were the only thing that still worked properly. It would be so easy to say something right now that he'd later regret, but he has to maintain control. Words are very, very important right now.

"Every one of us will put the group at risk before this is over. I'm certain of it. We'll get injured or sick, pass out from exhaustion, do something stupid... then the rest of us will have to decide whether you're worth keeping around or not."

His gaze swept over each of the others in turn, gauging their reactions, until he stopped at Howard.

"So, put yourself in her place. You're the dead weight now. What shall we do with you?"

"If my options are to die slowly while my brain cooks from the inside, and that's granted I don't lead those things out there right to us and get myself and everyone around me killed, or a peaceful death, I'm taking peaceful death." Of course, he can say that now, because he's not the one huddled in a feverish pile in the corner.

He folds his arms and leans back, refusing to look at the girl in the corner even while he advocates her murder. "Look, when those other situations come up, we'll deal with them then. We can't keep her with us. At best she eats up some of our resources before she dies a painful death, at worst she gets us eaten. Do you want that on your head?"

He looks around at the rest of the room, hoping someone will back him up.

"Do you want murder on yours?" Clef leans forward, scowling. He intends to take this opportunity to drive his point home before the others have had a chance to talk. "Because that's what this is. I'd rather die than go back to the ship and have to look people in the eye knowing that I participated in the murder of a little girl."

He's not kidding - at least he's pretty sure he's not. There are enough things on his conscience, and he doesn't think he could live with much more. He backs off a bit and sighs, leaning back with his arms open and relaxed.

"We have no resources to divide up, and the fact that she's asleep is an improvement on her condition." He lifted a hand palm-up in a gesture of offering. "Take whatever action will leave you with no regrets, but if you're advocating murder at this stage then be prepared to face death alone."

“I think we can all agree nobody wants to kill her but Howards making a valid point.” Diana couldn’t believe they were already having to make decisions like this, the idea of killing the girl made her sick and there was no way she’d participate, but what exactly were the chances of her getting better? Slim, Diana guessed. Very slim. Much slimmer than her getting eaten or getting one of them eaten. And it also brought up another point.

“What if she’s infectious? I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m not exactly a picture of health right now.” She gestured to cuts lining her arms. “I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure putting open wounds near someone feverish is a bit of a no-no.”

“It’s all nice and sweet saying she’s going to get better but what if she takes a turn for the worst? That’s medication needed that we don’t have and probably won’t ever get. And even if she doesn’t, the resource thing still stands. Not to mention the noise.” Diana most certainly didn’t want to hurt the girl but she was not willing to die for her.

She turned to Clef. “You’ve been vocal enough until now so tell us, what’s your idea for her?”

Clef paused before answering, silently acknowledging to himself his indignation at Diana's words. Maybe they were just all wound up right now, but he had the distinct impression that she was trying to come off as the cool-headed, rational one in this discussion while condescending to him and making arguments that had no real basis in reality. The general effect was that Clef had to stop and try to decide whether to respond to her arguments or her question, or if he could do both.

"I think that you're greatly exaggerating her liability to us," he began, keeping it general even though he desperately wanted to add that it was pretty much impossible to catch a bacterial infection from someone unless you picked your scabs open and started rubbing your cuts all over the person's festering wound. Sometimes it was better not to point out where other people had their facts wrong, especially if you couldn't bring yourself to do it in a polite manner. "And that the situation will resolve itself in less than a day."

He didn't necessarily mean to, but he had accidentally turned on his politician speak. What that basically translated to was that he thought she was going to get markedly better or die, and that this would happen tomorrow.

"In the meantime, there's a lot of room between killing someone and giving them everything they need." He paused and gave Howard a look like, see where I'm going with this? "She comes last. If we find food and water, then she only gets some if there's more than the rest of us can eat in one sitting. Then she gets half as much as everyone else. Same with medical supplies - use them on her only if you think it won't put much of a dent in our supplies. If we want to move and she can't walk on her own, we'll have to leave her unless someone volunteers to carry her."

He sighed.

"It's not perfect, and the worst case is that we will end up abandoning her or watching her slowly die. However, it'll give her a chance in case she recovers or things get markedly better for us."

"The worst case is we abandon her or she slowly dies?" Howard's voice gets a little shrill, and he resigns himself to glancing at the girl in the corner to make sure she's still asleep.

"What the hell kind of solution is that? Firstly, it does nothing about the screaming, secondly, do you have any idea what you're suggesting? Is this the first time you've ever gone hungry or are you actually so dumb that you don't understand what letting her starve to death entails? What it means for any of us, really, she's just closer."

He shakes his head and runs a hand over his forehead. Medical supplies? Like they're going to find medical supplies. "If she's going to die, at least give her the dignity of dying fast and peaceful in her sleep, instead of lingering in living hell for a few days first."

Clef glances at the girl at the same time Howard does, and when he looks back he seems like he's going to cry - or would be, if he weren't so dehydrated. At first it's the ad hominem attacks - he takes umbrage at being called dumb, and being talked to like he doesn't know what he's doing. He scowls and wants to lash out with something--

... But there's nothing to say. Howard's right. It's not that he didn't know what he was talking about, but he was just grasping at straws. Everyone has their illusions, and his was that things will get better soon. Maybe it wasn't the best one to have right now, but he needed it. If he didn't have it, he would have laid down and given up well before the time that the Ohm destroyed his world and Stacy picked him up. Things were already this bad then - his world was literally crumbling and overrun by monsters, and his people were starving. And yet he had to pretend to be strong for all of them while defending a dying world that he wasn't sure was even worth saving.

He can't pretend to be strong anymore. He used all of his acting abilities just now to pretend that he had a solution, and Howard blew a huge hole through that. So he just sits and hangs his head in defeat, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs that produce no tears.

Fine, he wants to say, Whatever. Do it.

Clef can't bring himself to say it, though. Howard probably gets the idea, anyway - he's giving up.

"She's just a little girl."

The words are quiet, and Maxine doesn't realise at first how meek her protestation is. She looks up to them, though, her emotions playing plainly on her face.

"I-- I don't think we should do it. We can't. She's just a little girl."

God, Maxine doesn't want to starve. She doesn't want any of them to. She doesn't want to die at all. But she also can't stomach the thought of something like that happening to this poor little girl that she had brought back to them. To help. She'd just wanted to help.

"I-- Clef is right. If she's as bad as you say she is, it'll be over soon anyway, right? And if you're scared of getting infected-- and you won't, I'm sure of it-- I'll take care of her." She hugged her knees, resting her head on them. She already felt so weak and hungry. She just wanted to sleep until it was over. "She doesn't deserve to die. None of us do. But she-- she can't even weigh in. I don't think she could, if she were awake or not. She's so scared, and in pain, and we-- I brought her back because she needed someone.

"We can't just do that to her," she babbled, knowing she wasn't exactly making a strong point.

She'd just wanted to help.

Throughout the discussion, Karis had kept uncharacteristically quiet. Not that she had talked to anyone much since they'd crash-landed. Instead, she'd moved around the room, one ear cocked toward the ongoing argument. She had her own opinion, but she wasn't saying it. The girl had to die - she was a waste of resources. She was in the way. More importantly, she was human. And killing her would stir things up. It would piss off the rest of the breathers.

And it would indulge the rather horrible, sadistic side of Karis that she tended to keep buried when she wasn't out and hurting people for her chosen liege.

The action itself was one she'd performed a hundred thousand times before. The arm came up, the blade of her battle-ax glinting in the light. It came down with a sickening thud. She brought it up again and this time it was soaked in crimson, a spatter decorating the wall as she brought it down again. And then a third time.

Karis turned, the hollow yellow lights that served her for eyes blinked once as her tongue snaked out to lick a blood spatter from her cheek.

"Problem solved."

Cedric had spent most of the conversation sitting in silent horror. For the most part, he agreed with Clef: it's wrong to kill someone just because they're a spare. He saw Howard's point about sparing her unnecessary pain if the death is inevitable, but he was not entirely convinced of that either. Like Howard had said earlier, Cedric was going to find some way to help tomorrow or they'd all die. That little girl was in the same boat.

He'd scooted closer to Maxine to comfort her and offer his assistance as well.

"You're right. I'll take her too, if..."

That was when Karis pounced, ending the discussion. Before he could react, the defenseless little girl was slaughtered, the verdict from a trial she never got to participate in. So that was how it was going to be. The second someone was judged too weak, they'd be killed.

He huddled close to the corpse, trying his best not to cry. There wasn't water to expend on that. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Maxine hadn't even had a chance to think of thanking Cedric for his support.

Her face was the very picture of horror, staring blankly at the body of the little girl that had been alive just moments before. The little girl she'd brought back here, at that.

For once, Maxine was totally silent as she moved closer to the body. She was torn between crying and throwing up, and unsure she could really do either. Desperate and fearful eyes looked up at Karis for a brief second, before she had to look away, look at nothing, then squeezed her eyes shut. When she finally spoke, all she managed to say was a soft 'oh god.'

((ooc: LAST REPOST I promise.))

He couldn't be that crazy - Maxine was agreeing with him. And Cedric--

Clef looked up at the sudden noise, and stared with unrepressed horror as Karis's ax came up from its kill in slow motion, spraying blood all over the wall. And then again-- thud.

And again.

He was shaking. He didn't know why. It couldn't possibly be because he just saw a child get butchered right in front of him. Had that really just happened? His brain was having trouble taking it in, making it a real thing. All he knew was Karis's nightmarish gaze and that tongue and oh god what did she even just say.

And then he had his first really clear thought since Howard had berated him, something that drowned out the running guilt mantra of that was the backdrop to his mind. It was simple and selfish, and far more species-ist than he'd care to admit, and it sounded something like, I DON'T WANT THAT THING KNOWING WHERE I SLEEP!

Not that he had slept that night. And not that he was going to, now. But immediately after he had that thought, reason chimed in with a solution: leave. After all, he didn't think he could look Howard in the face again and if Diana spontaneously combusted right now he would consider it a religious miracle. Clearly it was better for everyone's mental health if he was just not in this group anymore.

He shot to his feet and hung there for a second, wobbling a little. And then he was across the room without any memory of actually walking there, taking the meager supplies he had brought back from that night's foraging expedition and stuffing them back into his bag. His heart was pounding, knowing that someone would try to stop him. As well they should - he had no intention of dying out there, oh no, but this wasn't all practicality that was making him act. Part of him just wanted the satisfaction and the poetic justice of it. He wanted them to suffer for what they had done - more than they already were - and this was the only thing he could take away.

Perfect.

This was fucking perfect.

The looks on their faces, the way they reacted. The fear. The resignation. The horror. It fueled the little vindictive part of her, made her feel right, made her forget that she was a freak and a monster and dead, because they feared her. And fear made her powerful. Made her more than a broken down woman with no future. It built her up and she loved it. She soaked it up. Her eyes darted over to Clef as he began to walk away, then fixated on Maxine.

Easy target.

She lifted her ax to point with the head, "Grow a pair. Shit happens, people die, and I kill people. It's a fantastic way to solve problems."

Her gaze swept over the rest of the group.

"That goes for the rest of you. Grow a fucking spine and learn that the world isn't sunshine and rainbows and happy fucking endings, because it isn't and this world sure as hell isn't a place where the power of friendship is gonna win us any favors."

Her frame eased, relaxing back into the easy, ready stance and slouch that she adopted.

"You're all just lucky you have me around to do what you're all afraid to do."

Karis is right. Howard wouldn't have done it. He can advocate it, sure, but he couldn't have brought himself to do it. So yes, while he's horrified and sickened, he's also so, so grateful, way down to the pit of his stomach.

"I'll clean up." He walks into the kitchen to get a tarp or something. Karis did bloody work, and leaving it around for people to smell and focus on won't do anyone any good. Granted, he wishes she could have at least done it on tile, since they have no water, but he'll make do.

Besides, there can be many uses for a corpse. And somewhere along the line here, the part of him that's afraid of dead body's fell silent to the ruthless planner in him.

He doesn't want to think about it. He didn't think anyone would do it. That doesn't mean he didn't mean it, or that he regrets it, but he didn't think it would happen.

He stands in the doorway and ignores that Clef's leaving, with the food even, and resists the urge to yell "don't let the door hit you on the way out" or try and grab the pack from him. Let him go. One less person to feed on top of the dead girl. Once Cedric and Maxine are done with the body he'll wrap her in a blanket and tarp and scrub up the mess with a sponge and thick dishsoap without water.

Nobody is stopping him. This is going way better than Clef was expecting. Once he's done packing he stands again and looks around the room - anything else he needs here? No, not really. He's faintly aware of Karis's words and that Howard is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, but none of those things matter.

Clef doesn't intend to just leave, though. No - there are people here who still have some semblance of decency and he needs to take them with him and protect them. Or try, anyway. He stops on his way to the door and reaches for the cloth at Maxine's shoulder to give it a little tug.

"Come on."

His tone assumes she's coming, but it's not like he can force her. He looks at Cedric, too, when he says it - he's included, if he wants.

There were so many thoughts that Maxine wished she could say. So many things she wanted to do and say and she wished she could say something to magically put Karis in her place. But she knew she couldn't.

She looked away when the axe was pointed at her, trembling faintly but not moving, hands gripping at the fabric of her dress in the meantime.

Maxine wished she could do something, really.

She looked up at Clef when he got her attention, snapping out of it. Her expression was dazed, but she nodded slowly, and got to her feet, holding onto Clef for a little bit of support.

She wanted to tell him to stay, to make it clear that they had a better chance if they worked together. But she could only think of one reason to stay.

"Cedric?" she asked softly, looking down at him. She wanted him to have that choice.

But mostly she just wanted far away from Karis and from Bridge's body.

Cedric whispers a few words of eulogy over the girl as he contemplates his options. He's torn, incredibly torn. On one hand, he feels the impulse to stay with Howard. Even in this, they're finally real friends, and Howard's risked a lot to help him. That means a lot. He looks at Howard's back in the doorway as he considers this. In addition, staying together will increase their chances of survival---splitting up is when bad things tend to happen.

On the other, stronger emotional end...it's incredibly dangerous to be here. It's been proven that if they don't succeed soon, the weakest will be picked off one by one, and that's not a practice he can endorse. Staying here would be about equivalent to an implicit endorsement of what happened. Besides, he thinks: if he leaves, Diana won't have a reason to suspect that he and Howard are attached.

Cedric won't leave them permanently. He'll sneak back to check every now and then, he convinces himself. With that in mind, he looks at Maxine and nods.

"Coming." He can't face them any longer. He turns on his heel, helping Clef gather their things.

Survivalist Plot: Our Tools and Our Reasons

Re: THE SPARE

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject