Retrograde Analysis

[Dogs231]

((Cory Cartwright continued from Adjournment))

Cory leaned with his lower back against the wooden railing, staring at the map as he attempted to divert course, looking for a destination that served his purposes. Behavior such as this was not like him, and he was self-aware enough to understand that. He should have planned his next move before he left the marina. Wandering like this could make him a prime target and an easy one like that.

He was getting careless.

He was out in the open.

He needed to focus.

Cory stared hard enough at the map that he felt like he would pierce right through it. He needed to find a way out of this mess of wood and nails as soon as he could.

In one direction were the three danger zones - useless to him. The only possibility they held for him was an impending death. In another, the shop boat, the floating restaurant, and the cruise ship. While Cory doubted the shop boat remained a threat, he saw no value in return. The massive vessel, however, was a disaster waiting to happen. From the direction that he had come from, the ferry and the houseboat, both of which he had visited. He had not seen what was below deck, but would a return to the ferry be worth his time?

He was paralyzed by indecision as he glanced across the paper in his hands.

[carduinal-cyn]

(Olivia del Rio continued from A Brand-Old Car!!)

Day two of the rest of my life, Olivia thought to herself as she hopped down from the ferry, carrying her backpack and crossbow. She wore the same yellow coat from casting day, her white Selkie bandana, and a bright, chipper smile. She was confident Lucia wouldn't be far behind. They were sworn partners now, after all. What could possibly go wrong?

The jetties creaked rhythmically under her every passing footstep. Liv followed the paths absentmindedly, like a drifter, hoping one of them would lead her to a boat, a classmate, a target.

The creaking stopped.

Olivia had caught sight of someone in her peripheral vision. Her head swivelled near-instantly to face the figure: a slight, dark-skinned young man. Just standing there, too, his back against the railing. Hunched over. Her eyes narrowed to slits.

You gotta make up for yesterday, Liv! You can't keep running away forever!

Her grip on Little Joe tightened.

You don't know him, and he won't know you.

Her hand shook.

It's OK. You have to do this. You don't want someone smart coming along and doing it to you first, do you, Olivia?

She raised the crossbow until it was level with the boy's head.

You're on national TV. Make this shot count.

Then, she pulled the trigger.

With a crack, Little Joe's only bolt flew swift and sure. The metal spike hurtled through the air, sinking its tip into a piece of wooden railing only a foot from its target's head.

[Dogs231]

Cory had barely taken his eyes off the map when the metal spike collided with the railing, just left of his head, sending splinters flying towards his face. He raised his arm to protect himself from the wooden fragments.

It had happened again. Another killer, looking to make him the next victim on the announcement, with a weapon far more dangerous than the threat he had previously faced. In his view, this confrontation was nobody's fault except his own - carelessness and indecision had led him astray of his goals and into the face of near-death.

He turned to his right and ran around a corner, finding cover behind one of the two boats that now stood between himself and the attacker. He carelessly stashed the crumpled paper into his bag and clasped the handle of his knife. He doubted he could get far from an opponent with a ranged weapon, even with the labyrinthine layout of the jetties working to his advantage. He'd have to try to talk them down.

"If you're looking for a kill, you made a bad choice. I've already resisted one would-be killer, and I'd rather not have to go for round two."

He attempted to sound calm and injected false courage into each syllable he spoke, but deep down, he was terrified. He was all too aware that he was once again standing on a powder-keg, with a fuse burning precariously at his feet.

"I'm looking to escape, not to fight. So let's talk this out."

He hoped that this person would be more amenable to reason and common sense than his erstwhile compatriots had been - and if they weren't, he prepared himself once more to flee.

[carduinal-cyn]

Olivia's hand was screaming. The very act of firing Little Joe had sent a wave of pain up her right arm, as though she'd tried to shoot the boy in front of her with a high-caliber handgun. "Fuck!" she hissed through gritted teeth. She stared down at her clenched fist with wet eyes, unsure whether the recoil or the miss was more painful. Walk it off! the imaginary Coach shouted. Sure, it wasn't sympathetic (phrases like "pain is weakness leaving the body" came to mind), but when the boy she'd shot at was surely about to...

...run away in terror? At least, that's what the footfalls told her.

Blinking back tears, Olivia gave chase, swerving around the corner just in time to catch sight of the white bandana wrapped around his right arm.

Oh, shit!

The footfalls stopped; the boy — her teammate, she hastily corrected herself — had surely hidden himself behind the other boat. He started to talk. His voice was clear and direct, high-pitched, slightly nervous; in a word, cute. He urged her first to reconsider, then escape.

"No way in hell we can just leave, dude," she called out. "But aren't you lucky! I saw your bandana when you ran away, and I think we're on the same team! So, uh... oops! Sorry 'bout that!" She gave him an awkward little chuckle. Passing the crossbow, now unloaded, into her left hand, she tried to scratch her head and was rewarded with another little jolt of pain. She winced.

"I'm not gonna shoot, trust me! Bet you didn't know this, but it kinda fucks up your hand when you do, and right now, mine's still a little fucked up. If you still don't trust me, I'm not gonna move from this spot. You can see my bandana, too! 'Cause, if I'm right, I shouldn't've tried to shoot you in the first place. 's that OK?"

[Dogs231]

Cory received the response he had been waiting for as his attacker called back out to him across the jetties. She relayed critical information - a motive and reasons why she would not repeat her actions.

Firstly, she didn't believe in an escape - that explained why she was going for a kill. Cory felt he should try to convince her, but it was unwise to provoke further potential ire yet when the situation still was fraught and uncertain. Secondly, she was his teammate, or so she claimed. She might have lied to bait him out of cover, but her words could hold weight - he hadn't gotten a good look at her. And finally, her weapon - likely a crossbow, judging by the projectile that very well could have killed him - had hurt her hand. If this statement held water, she'd be unable to attack him again.

Cory took a moment to think. If he chose to believe her, then two courses of action could occur. If she had told the truth, then he would only stand to gain from the situation. His words would hold more credence. He could try and persuade her off of the path she'd taken. If she had lied, he could lose everything.

He couldn't take a would-be killer at their word alone. She had every reason to lie to him, and he had already seen where placing his trust in this sort of person had gotten him. He needed evidence. He needed confirmation of the alibi.

"I'm sorry, but I can't trust you. I hope you understand why."

He tried to speak calmly and deliberately. He didn't want his intent to be lost in translation.

"I need to prove that you're my teammate."

He tapped at the collar, the same way he had before the conversation on the ferry.

He spoke in a hushed tone, quieting his voice as his eyes drifted down to the metal vice on his neck.

"Is she telling me the truth?"

He waited for the response as his hand tightened nervously on the handle of the weapon at his side.

[ciphermitarai]

Well, Olivia wasn't wrong. Lucia sped in, as if solely to up the ante. The sounds from ahead had convinced her to drop her defensive posture in the back and rush ahead, skidding to stop at the third standstill in a row.

Hooray.

"Liv! You're not hurt, right?" In a flash, the cleaver was held out in front of her, shoulders thrust forward, aiming to protect her from further harm--but the opposition didn't seem hostile. Or anywhere near. Not in the least. Shit. She prayed she didn't accidentally incite another fight.

Then again, she couldn't run from them forever.

"You-" She squinted as she tried to make sense of the voice ahead of her. Another person she didn't know well, Colin or something like that. At the very least, he didn't seem to have a gun. (If he did, he'd be pointing it, wouldn't he?) That was a massive improvement from before.

She pretended not to have heard the business about teams. After all, it was her quiet opinion that teams were, to put it flavorfully, "bullshit," but there was something more worrying than that. They had just talked about being on the same team. Suddenly, she felt her muscles tense even more than before, around the bandanna that so conveniently was out of his line of sight.

She might have to lie.

[carduinal-cyn]

Olivia's eyes went wide, and she turned with a start. There was Lucia, cleaver at the ready, proudly bearing that decidedly-not-white bandana of hers right when team loyalty was starting to actually matter. In any other case, she would've been grateful for the extra help, but this required what her father called "diplomacy": something she suspected would become infinitely harder if the boy behind the boat got so much as a glimpse of her partner in crime.

She swore under her breath, before greeting the new arrival with a nervous smile. "Y... yeah!" she stammered. "Totally fine!"

Liv pursed her lips as she tried to think up a convincing explanation; she glanced back and forth between Lucia's hazel eyes and her teammate's cover-boat, reasoning it out. Then it hit her; she raised her pointer finger with a hushed gasp of triumph. She was no liar — even when she rebelled against her mom's ridiculous homework rules, she made that fact very clear to the old killjoy — and she decided that if she was going to make herself look trustworthy, she needed to tell him everything directly. She'd already basically confirmed he was safe from the flash of white bandana she'd caught. He had that meek little voice, too, the kind that screamed "wouldn't hit a girl if his life depended on it". And so, she turned on her heel, and announced:

"Hey, you! Mr. Teammate Guy! Just wanted to letcha know, I made an alliance with someone from the, uh..." She paused briefly to check Lucia's bandana. "...The red team! And she's here now, so... yeah! But you don't have to worry about it. She's got one of those big, scary meat cleavers, but it's not like she's gonna come over and shoot you or anything."

Olivia turned to Lucia again. "He doesn't trust me," she whispered, cupping her hand in front of her face. "So I'm tryna get him on our side."

"Soooooo," she half-drawled, half-called to the mystery boy as she turned back around, eyes narrowing. "What kinda proof are you thinking about? 'Cause, if you really want, I can... uhhh... take this bandana off for a couple minutes! I'll, like, leave it on the ground, and we'll duck behind the other boat long enough for you to take a good look! How's that sound?"

She patted herself on the back for that one. The words fell out pretty much all at once, but she didn't think she'd have a hard time convincing Lucia to follow along with the plan. Her smile widened to a gleeful grin.

Now, she was another step closer to a new ally.

[Namira]

There is no reply from Cory's collar.

[Dogs231]

Cory waited for the answer from his mentor for several seconds, occasionally tapping nervously at the metal. He received nothing but dead silence.

At the same time, he overheard another voice, distinct from that of his claimed teammate. The two seemed to be close, and the new figure identified his acquaintance with the name Liv, which he assumed was a diminutive.

'Liv' spoke again and identified the second figure as an ally of hers. Not only was she armed, however, but she was on a separate team from the both of them. She also wanted to know what sort of proof Cory had wanted - she suggested the idea of leaving her bandana on the jetties for Cory to see. Something about this felt suspicious - he could not escape the nagging feeling that he was about to be led into a trap.

While he couldn't receive a definite confirmation of whether or not she was his teammate, he could at least try to prove it as convincingly as he could. He racked his brain for the best way of proving that she was his teammate and settled on one option. If he could get her to recall what she had seen and heard during his briefing, he could likely rule out the possibility of her lying about her team affiliation to a satisfactory degree.

"I tried to check in with our mentor, but I didn't get anything but radio silence. I'm not sure what's happening with regards to her."

He wondered if she was doing okay. The fact that she wasn't responding was somewhat worrying to him.

"So, here's what I propose. Each team seems to have gotten a different briefing, so tell me what the briefing was like, to the best of your recollection."

He prepared to vet her statement, readying himself for what could either be a series of lies unraveling or a truce solidified.

[carduinal-cyn]

The briefing.

Olivia's bright gaze lowered to the ground as the memories came flooding back. Emmy's once-proud face, slick with tears and makeup. The way her voice trembled; all the apologies she gave; that long, painful pause where she could do nothing but keep herself from breaking down completely; it was a pathetic sight, fit more for a disgraced YouTuber than anything resembling a mentor figure.

"...What briefing?" Liv's voice was breaking. Her eyes fixed themselves on one particular piece of wooden dock-board that looked as though it would break away in somebody's foot. "Emmy... that wasn't a briefing. That was awful."

A question. Bubbling, rumbling, like a thundercloud.

How many of us has Emmy seen die?

She swallowed. Sniffled. Stifled. Forced herself to breathe. Focus! barked her mental image of Coach. You leave your emotions at the door! You told me you were gonna win... now stop crying and stick to it!

Olivia shuddered in place, and then she craned her neck back up again. "Is... is that what you wanted?"

[ciphermitarai]

Lucia kept silent as if her life depended on it—which it did. Surprised that Olivia had blown her cover so quickly, she didn’t give herself the time to react, instead watching the scene play out with the knowledge things might be turned on her at any moment.

She began to piece things together. Emmy, a briefing. A bad one by the sound of it. Any information could be useful nowadays, she reminded herself. If it was an unsatisfactory answer... well, she figured he wouldn’t attack, but just in case, she steadied herself. Mind flirting through her form.

What Lucia had really wanted was to speak up, to say something about not hurting anyone if she didn’t need to, but the moment had passed and she felt herself crushed by the weight of the words around her.

[Dogs231]

'Liv's' voice began to break, creaking with the words as she spoke of the briefing. Her answer was vague, but it was convincing enough for Cory to believe. It was more of a plea than a briefing - one that had likely gone unanswered by most. He knew for a fact that at least one of their teammates had already fallen. And it was more than likely that their teammates had killed at least once.

"Yeah. Sorry if I brought back some unpleasant memories."

Cory slowly stepped out from his cover, his hand's grip on the handle loosening as he felt a slight wave of relief wash across him. He could be sure, to a reasonable degree, that this figure had not lied to him. Now that he could be confident that they would not attack him without reason, he could work to convince them to leave their path.

As he turned the corner, he gained his first good look at the other two people in the area. One of them was around his height, and one was far shorter. Both of them appeared to be in far better physical condition than he was. In a straight fight, he estimated that he would be at an immense and immediate disadvantage. However, he hoped that the situation would not come to that.

"We should probably start by introducing ourselves since we're teammates and all. My name is Cory Cartwright, and I'm a senior."

He hoped that if his attempts to appeal to their reason failed, he hoped that he would at least have a name to match with their faces.

[carduinal-cyn]

Olivia rubbed the remnants of tears out of her eyes, and they itched in approval.

Slowly but surely, her target-turned-teammate emerged, slight and bespectacled, from behind the boat. Every line of his body seemed to relax; the telltale fear-clench of his hands all but dissipated. Liv recognized him from a chance hallway sighting. At last, she could make up for the half-flight of stairs that stopped her initial "hello" and greet the honor student one-on-one.

"Sorry 'bout that whole mess, Cory," she said with an awkward chuckle. "I'm Olivia del Rio! But you can call me Liv, 'cause that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

The words—her intentions—flew out on instinct. Perhaps she was tempting fate. Perhaps God would strike her and her terrible puns down. Or perhaps, as the imaginary Coach repeated in between obnoxious blows of her whistle, she had a destiny to fulfill...

[ciphermitarai]

All Lucia could do was stand in the least vulnerable position she could, and yet... as her mind raced, she began to realize that she might actually be the more threatening one in the situation. Even worse, she couldn’t reap the benefits of it, be it confidence or a general sense of knowing what you’re doing—but hey, that’s where faking it until you make it comes in.

She let out a single snort at Olivia’s unexpected joke, somehow finding it in her heart to do so—though never taking her eyes off of the person ahead of her.

“... Cory, yeah?” She kept her voice as even as she could, trying to connect some sort of story to the face and name. Their circles had never crossed, though whether that was for better or worse Lucia was unsure. “My name’s Lucia.” She spent a moment trying to figure out how to add on a ‘I won’t hurt you’ in a way that didn’t sound awkward, a moment that stretched so long she eventually decided to just leave it off.

“We’ve gotten to a lot of stalemates, and... well, frankly, I’m getting a bit tired of them, so. Can we call a truce for sure?” Aside from her mouth, her face hardly moved, as though the very idea of showing too many emotions frightened her. Perhaps then he might think she was vulnerable and could be disarmed, or she’d be hoisting up a death flag—and it felt wrong like this, to act so jaded when really in her heart she wasn’t, but somehow it was easier to survive that way.

[Dogs231]

'Liv' began by apologizing to him before introducing herself by name - Olivia del Rio. She followed this statement of fact with a play on words on her nickname. While it was better than anything Gregory had mustered, it was hard for Cory to find any humor in a situation such as this. He was aware that some people used humor to cope with stress, but he could not say the same about himself.

The other person addressed him, then paused for a brief while before she stated herself to be 'Lucia' - without specifying a last name. While it would be good information to know, he somewhat doubted that he would need the specification if an announcement contained her name. It was unlikely that many students at Mangrove Garden had the same name. She then asked for a truce, something which Cory was more than happy to accept - although the impermanence that that word implied gave him some pause.

"I'd rather not have to deal with more conflict, so that offer is fine by me."

He paused for a moment, considering his words carefully - if he was going to offer them a different path, he needed to be as convincing as possible.

"However, I have a different idea - if you two are willing to agree to it. There's no need for a ceasefire if we can find a way to escape."

He knew he would have to elaborate further but waited for their initial responses. It would allow him to find another method of attempting to convince them should this fail.