Bullet by Bullet

[Frozen Smoke]

((Parker_Green - Day 6 - 13:34 Local Time - Entering from The Finders Keepers Fallacy))

Parker had fallen asleep quickly after they had reached the Aviary, yesterday. He had taken the time to mumble something indistinct about taking turns watching, and gathered together enough hay from the nearby stables to create an object that could have been considered a mattress, laid down on his front and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the early afternoon night had been replaced by inky blackness, and Blaise had been rocking him awake.

But he had woken up. That was the important part.

The night had passed quickly. There were a few indistinct voices from nearby, another group, taking refuge in the more enclosed stables and decidedly less discreet than the two of them before their murmuring had petered out, assumedly as a result of them going to sleep. That had kept him vigilant, and also helped pass the time, as he strained his hearing for the footsteps that never came.

The morning light had offered the opportunity for more, as he let Blaise take a few extra hours of sleep. A chance to lay out his supplies and take stock; Another day’s worth of food in the form of 2 ration bars, and a tin of crackers, 2 full bottles of water and 4 empty, and 6 rounds of ammunition. Not being able to get Johnny’s bag had cost him, but what he had would suffice for now, as long as they could find their way back to the Waterfall. It had taken him a while to realise it, but the night had offered him the opportunity to hear food walking all around them, as hooves struck the gravel paths around them.

He’d also finally had time to look at the injury on his back, too, gingerly taking off his clothes and craning his neck around to look at it in one of the grimy mirrors that had probably once entertained the Ravens that lived under the now destroyed netting. It looked awful. The skin on his back blistered and yellowing, with pieces of his jacket and shirt embedded in it, but there were no pieces of lead - No gouged out pieces of flesh.

He had clenched his teeth tightly to stop himself waking Blaise up as he had cleaned it with antiseptic wipes, each motion making it burn like the wound was fresh, before slathering it in burn relief gel. Next came the adhesive bandages, sealing the sorry mess up, and finally he’d wrapped the long cloth bandages tightly around his midsection to hold everything in place.

With that done, he had finally woken Blaise up, calling their name until they finally responded.

After breakfast, the two of them had walked again, towards the south of the island at his behest. There was next to nothing on the south-westernly edge of the island, and it had seemed like the safest way to get to the waterfall without running into anyone or anything. That had been partially right, but the path had taken them close to a familiar sight for him. A temple, standing defiant of time near the edge of the island, and a small garden behind it, eerily still as the sea breeze buffeted them.

It had been as good a place to stop for lunch as any.

“So…” Parker began, in between tentative bites at the ration bar in his hands, as the two of them sat on a bench overlooking a selection of the bizarre sculptures that dotted the garden.

He shifted his position a little, trying to make eye contact with them without staring at them, leaning back into the bench in order to try and show he was at least going to hear whatever answer they had out. He took in a short breath, in and out, steadying himself and preparing not to interrupt as he lowered the bar to his lap.

“What’s your plan, Blaise?”

[Emprexx Plush]

((Blaise D'Aramitz Continued FromThe Finders Keepers Fallacy))

((TW; Graphic discussions of sexual violence))

It occurred to Blaise that this was the longest time they had spent together without explicit purpose. Ignoring the obvious double entendre for a moment, they could not recall a time when one was not leading the other with some clear goal in mind. Parker detested ambiguity. He would indulge them, yes, but not without some reassurance they were not wasting his time. They had been together long enough that that assurance could come on credit, but he was not so mercurial. They might find reason to doubt the structure he offered them, and at times there might be scaffolds he felt best left obscured, but to present nothing at all? Unthinkable. In that light the drudgery of their journey suggested uncomfortable possibilities; the first skew was that Parker was too burnt out to process at his usual level. He wasn't thinking straight, guided by base instincts to seek necessities. A safe place to rest without much regard for what came before it. Supposing he had the energy to keep watch he did not have the ability to turn his observations into useful commentary. Put mildly Blaise would find state of affairs inconvenient. Anyone with a suborned intellect and working limbs could be a pack animal and shoot when they told them to shoot. Parker was meant to be something much more valuable than that. If not an equal than near so, and a perspective that might reveal insights they could not. Failing that role would be disappointing.

Parker rarely disappointed. The more likely outcome was unfortunately more uncomfortable as well. Parker had insights. He knew exactly what he was doing and adjusted accordingly to their surroundings, but felt no need to loop them into his process at this time. Had he judged them incompetent? Unlikely; as established Parker was an intelligent man, and while they might often disagree in method he did not make the mistake of underestimating them. However, if he'd judged that they were in opposition rather than partnership then withholding his information would be a prudent move. Its primary disadvantage was that it might tip them off to his adversarial edge before he was prepared, but from a certain understanding of their personality that might be desirable. He could suppose that it would intrigue them and reduce the possibility that they would either turn on him or disappear without notice. They delighted in his secrets and had thrown many traditional victories playing to their own objectives in exposing him. To rely on that now, though? They would have to be insane to indulge themself when the stakes were so high. Undoubtedly they would discover the bait and the presence if not the mechanics of a trap within hours of its setting, and then what would they do?

Well.

They knew he was playing them, but he was right. They were too interested to end the exercise prematurely. Though it was antithetical to their nature they did not rise with the pressure they were sure he expected. When they woke up to what they could only assume was Parker cleansing himself or his wounds, they did not move. It was hard to say how long he had been at work, harder why he had taken the efforts to conceal it. Hardest still to resist the urge to see what he wanted them blind to, but another curiosity sustained them. What might he do if he judged them still asleep? After he was sure of his own condition, would he make a play against them, or attempt to leave on his own with their supplies? Knowing what he did when he thought they couldn't be watching would tell them more than any attempt to drag his intentions out by trickery. So they waited, still and soft of breath.

He called their name.

They did not answer.

He called, and called, and when they were satisfied that his purpose was to draw their attention they rose.

They wondered on the next leg of their journey if he had known. It was always tempting to slip into the recursive logic of layers in subterfuge, but for the moment they decided it did not matter. He had gone out of his way to bring them with him, which meant he had some use in mind for them for the time being. The relevant question, then, was how that use aligned with theirs for him. Blaise was not simple. When Parker spoke of a plan they understood his meaning to be more broad, perhaps in regard to general survival or how they might locate Lorenzo. They were uninterested in these details. They wanted to see how Parker, who had not yet made himself worth the attention of their captors, responded to the visceral details of their outcome. The rest would follow.

Blaise took one of their dwindling cigarettes from their lips and blew smoke out into the island air. Parker's eye contact was maintained only momentarily, the sky held their attention as they spoke. "Very well. It has been several days since I saw the man. At the time he was already wounded, and I doubt his activities have been kind to his health. When we find him I do not expect much resistance. If necessary I will shoot to immobilize, but I am not confident in my precision." They paused for a slow drag. "It would be preferred to surprise him. I have rope for binding him, certain...proclivities assure I can render him helpless if he is at our mercy." Ash tapped out between their fingers. "Then it is a matter of breaking his knees and his hands. Perhaps his arms as well. Rope can be undone. If some miracle of an ill-gotten god graces him, I want it to find him unable to benefit. If I were more medically knowledgeable I might suggest we sever tendons or some such, but..." Their face soured and they waved a hand. "Too much risk. It is important, very important, that he does not bleed out. I've put a great deal of thought into what comes after you know, what should be done to adequately convey what he has done, and find my knowledge similarly unsatisfactory. Gouging of the eyes or tongue, torture of cuts and disagreeable substance, even the poetic removal of his cock?" They laughed, but it was joyless. "Too much risk. No, no. Before he goes in the ground, the only sufficient punishment I could imagine for him mirrors his crime." A nudge from their foot clanked the folding spear against their first aid kit within their bag. "The shaft should prove sufficient. Proper positioning, depth, mm...care must be had of course, but you know my expertise. I believe I can make my point without sodomizing him to death." Blaise's head tilted to catch Parker's eye. "Because that is when we bury him, suffering but still breathing. There will be no record of his last moments but the dirt he chokes on. That is how Lorenzo Tavares deserves to die."

What practical concerns they had laid out crossed the border past psychotic long before they'd finished. Hypocritical as well, they were well aware that what they outlined had nothing to do with what Lorenzo deserved. How had Dolly put it? Blaise knew nothing of justice, but retribution? Violent, vile, excessive retribution? They could be counted on for that. Any phrasing to the contrary was but insurance. If there came a time outside this place where they were called to justify themself, someone more concerned with innocence and public relations could be persuaded to make a case off that one sentence. That was how these things worked, no? A concern for another time. Now they watched Parker's face, waiting to see if he had the stomach to be useful.

[Frozen Smoke]

There was an instinct to interrupt, to tell Blaise that what they were describing was not a plan, but an outcome. An objective, at best, but certainly not the means to achieve it. Parker shoved it down, as hard as he could, and he listened. This was not the time to prove his superiority, as much as it bristled his ego to miss the opportunity, it was time to treat them as an equal. To take their desires into consideration, to work on a plan that would satisfy the both of them, and that required him to make his own points in full. He doubted Blaise would offer him a courtesy he did not himself provide, much as the reverse held true.

His expression held mostly still, besides a nod when he felt was appropriate, and a mistimed smile that coincided with their laugh before the dryness and abruptness of it became clear and quickly vanishing from his lips. The whole thing seemed more like a catharsis for them than anything else, although why they cared so deeply about a single rape when they had four bodies to their name eluded him. Perhaps they cared for Artem. Or perhaps it was just an excuse to imagine inflicting torment on someone who they could justify deserved it. The way Blaise took careful, intermittent drags on their cigarette as they vividly described it all reminding him of the post-coital haze they'd shared a few times, as if they believed smoking could prolong the careless bliss of it forever.

At the end of it all, the intent didn't matter, nor did the motivation. What mattered was that it was what Blaise wanted. Regardless of the likelihood of them even running into Lorenzo whilst he was still alive, of any of what they described being possible, if they were to work together - He would have to cede something to them in return.

Parker nodded, more deeply, before replying.

"We're going to need to find a shovel then, aren't we?"

He smiled, and took another bite of the bar that had rested in his lap, and chewed on it as he thought about how to proceed. He held an index finger up in front of his mouth to indicate he was about to speak as he did so, letting the silence settle between them. They hadn't asked about his plan, his own desires, but there was a subtle intimation that by approaching the topic he wanted to talk about his own. But approaching that required them to believe it was his actual plan. That required unravelling the Gordian Knot of gamesmanship they'd spent months tying, as they'd tried to gain the upper hand, first in poker and then in everything else as a consequence.

Eventually, as he finished chewing, he decided to take Alexander's approach.

"Look, I'd say 'I'm going to level with you', but neither of us would believe that, right?" he reasoned, smile widening as he caught Blaise's eyes with his own once again. "Still, I want to live, and I assume you want to as well. After all, you can't exactly torture someone to death as a corpse, and we have a better chance of surviving if we work together - Up to a point."

He reached his hand up, brushing it across his face and pushing his glasses up, rubbing his thumb and forefinger across his closed eyes and to the bridge of his nose, before dragging it down across his cheeks and to his chin. There was a pensive look on his face as he struggled to find the right order for the words that were pressing against his mind for permission to be given form by his mouth.

"What we find ourselves in is a prisoner's dilemma, of sorts. If we both work together, we maximise the overall... Utility provided to us as a collective. But if one of us betrays the other, and the other does not do the same, that maximises the utility to the individual player. That appears to be the core of the 'Game' we find ourselves in, as with every external threat that's taken care of, anyone you work with becomes more of a threat to you. Kind of like ranging in Poker, where you want to be just a little tighter than your opponent, you want to betray someone just before they betray you so you can get the maximum benefit from it."

He looked at their face, trying to judge if they understood what he was saying for a fraction of a second, before deciding that pausing wasn't an option even if they didn't.

"What I would propose is that we go beyond that. Co-operate outside of the presupposed bounds of the game - Metagaming, if you will - and make whatever partnership we have finite. Given that you have the most resources, it only seems fair to let you decide the terms there; Whenever one of us next gets a BKA, whenever we're next in a dangerzone, Hell-" He forced a smile to his lips as he offered the suggest Blaise was most likely to appreciate. A show of good faith.

"Maybe when we kill Lorenzo."

A pause. Then an addendum.

"My only suggestion would be that it not be something either of us could reasonably predict, as that puts us right back to square one in the levelling game.

[Emprexx Plush]

Blaise did not appreciate the emotional whiplash Parker was giving them. Their expectations had leaned towards revulsion at worst and a lecture at best. Parker was not particularly inclined towards moral hand-wringing so they could entertain the possibility that he would find their methods acceptable, but in that case it was assumed he would lecture them on a lack of foresight. What they would do to Lorenzo was one thing, but how they would position him to do it was more pressing, and when they left that gap wide open it seemed too tempting for him to avoid it. So when he seemed content to leave the matter of Lorenzo in their hands and launched into a diatribe on the mechanics of the game and their partnership at large they found it frustrating. Certainly anyone in their position could understand. To swing from the depravity of how best to torture a man to death to arousal via intellectual stimulation was jarring to say the least, and given the board state neither desire was going to see satisfaction any time soon.

Ugh.

For once they assumed he did not realize how he inconvenienced them. They would not hold it or themself against him as consequence. Regardless he raised points worth consideration. "Mm. Partnership, it does not suit either of us well. I am comfortable admitting this." A lens of a certain disposition might use this pause to highlight moments where co-operation had proven less than fruitful for them. Miscommunication, things of that nature. Perhaps a dramatic betrayal, that would make for a textbook example. Their mind's eye summoned no such circumstance, of course, they had no experience worth recalling. "Perhaps it would be simplest to say we shall work until one of us is next announced. All we have done to this point can be agreed on," they continued with the tactically inclusive 'we' instead of the more accurate 'I', "but the risk of a recent kill deserves consideration, no?" It would suit their goal of finding and killing Lorenzo well enough, and might provide Parker with a certain amount of insurance. If they wanted his continued assistance they could not simply shoot every person who annoyed them along the way. It was a concession they did not relish, but if it prevented the sort of incredulity he expressed in the wake of having his life saved from Johnny they could be at peace. "If that risk is too great, we go our separate ways. If not, we renegotiate."

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker nodded slowly, but non-comittally as he tried to unwind Blaise's suggestion, looking for any loopholes or leaps of logic. He wished he had taken a sheaf of paper and the marker out of his bag, if only to chew on the end of the latter as he contemplated the decision, given that writing their agreement down would be an exercise in theatrics alone. Not that he'd ever known Blaise to shy away from theatrics, but taking the time to focus on them now would make this all seem superficial, rather than an attempt to exploit a flaw in the game's construction.

That was the crux of the whole thing, after all. Trusting Blaise was, to a point, foolish. Much as trusting anyone else was in the situation that had been placed upon them. But Parker liked to think he understood some parts of them, their desire to see what would happen, what they could get away with, consequences be damned.

Blaise was the only person he felt might value the opportunity to cheat over ensuring the totality of their personal safety.

Parker's mind continued to tick over as the silence stretched, running through scenarios in his mind as quickly as he could, easily striking off the loophole of either of their names being read on the announcement as a victim. That would end the partnership by default, for obvious reasons, and if Blaise had wished to achieve that in the short term they had had ample opportunity to achieve so in the night before.

The main recurring theme that seemed to crop up, no matter what the remaining number of players, or what objective they decided was worth breaking apart for, was that Blaise's suggestion allowed both of them the option to proactively do so without it being predictable to the other party. In essence, replacing murderous betrayal with an attack on an outside party. Something that theoretically would benefit both parties chances of survival.

Parker offered them a deeper smile, as that became apparent. He was almost annoyed he hadn't come up with it himself, but if he had, it was unlikely Blaise would have accepted it. He shifted on the bench slightly, angling his body towards them as best he could on the limited space they shared, and extending an open hand towards them.

"Deal."

[Emprexx Plush]

Deal. It was almost enough to make them laugh again. They could not recall the last time Parker accepted their terms so readily. What that said about the quality of their usual deals, well, they would not dignify such a question even from themself. Their usual stakes, though, they would ponder those. A fascinating dynamic had developed between them as Parker realized they cared little for material prizes so much as what they represented. There was vague recollection of his frustration after they threw a particularly advantageous game only to savor his disbelief. The exact words evaded them, but some proposed imbalance between how careful they were with their bets compared to how zealously they pursued those owed to them. It was decided in that moment that Parker would be a more interesting opponent with insight, and they'd corrected the discrepancy quite elegantly in their opinion: Blaise was the sort of person who coveted debt far above wealth, who would always take the unnerving leverage of something owed over an amount two, three, ten times the amount in hand. To put it more broadly, anything that did not pain you to part with could not hold their interest long. When their games with Parker became truly engaging, they played for gestures. A bit of costuming here and there. Things that would have meant nothing to the average person but that gave him as much if not more pause than figures that would bankrupt a small nation with their loss.

They had to wonder, then, if he had imagined some angle they must be playing at. Its nature was inscrutable to them so who knows where his paranoia might lead? To be frank they were disappointed in themself for their lack of ulterior motives. It made for a boring wager, but a serviceable ones. There came a time when Blaise could accept practicality over games with a measure of delayed gratification. When all was in its place they would have ample time to craft a more obtuse arrangement, but to get there they would need they recalled and revised around a word struck fresh from their vocabulary. Once more: to get there it would be advantageous to have Parker at their side. He had already eased many of their doubts with this conversation. Parker's mind was sharp as ever, and if fed enough information it would be impossible for Lorenzo to elude him. It would speed up the process considerably to lean on him, and they could not pretend that the unbroken stride he took over the gory details they provided didn't intrigue them. There was a possibility that among his myriad socially questionable eccentricities Parker might have a promising touch of sadism to him.

Blaise ground out their cigarette on the edge of the bench, then took his hand with a grin to match his own. "Let us find a shovel."

((Blaise D'Aramitz Continued In The Information Paradox))

[Frozen Smoke]

A few sharp shakes later, and the agreement was official as it could be, and their paths would stay connected.

Parker felt like a weight had been taken off his chest as he squared back up on the bench, and took another bit out of the ration bar, forcing himself to swallow the bland chalky powder it disintegrated into after a few seconds of mastication. He hadn't really allowed himself to plan anything that he couldn't do alone in a short timescale up until now, because the future had been so uncertain. It still was, but at least he had something, someone to work with. He'd weighed up the advantages and disadvantages of cooperating with Blaise beforehand obviously, their skills and assets, their foibles and flaws, but now he could determine how exactly he could utilise them.

He almost felt like he could feel the future spilling out in front of him, as his eyes rolled over the array misshapen sculptures that dotted the garden. All of them were clearly more amateurish than the ones he'd seen a few days ago in the Art Exhibition, but there was one in particular that caught his eye, bringing a smile to his lips. It was a globe, or supposed to be, at least. Really, it was more egg shaped, and the continents on it were almost beyond recognition, with pockmarks and clearly incorrect coasts. Facing outwards what he assumed was the Pacific Ocean, complete with an out of place blob that probably represented the island they were on, massively oversized compared to the scale of everything else. Resting atop the parody of the world was a necklace, decorated with glass beads, whatever colour they'd once held having been faded by the sun into a pale grey.

He shook his head and wondered, just for a moment, what sort of future the people who'd come here before had foreseen. If the future had even mattered to them.

Parker finished the last of the bar, and washed it down with a few quick gulps of water, before stepping forwards off the bench. He hefted the bag onto his shoulder, shifting the strap slightly until it was comfortable, before looking back at his temporary partner.

"Let's get moving, Blaise. We got a lot to do."

((Parker_Green - Day 6 - 14:04 Local Time - In Transit to The Information Paradox))