SOTF Mini

((Johnny Lancer and Daniel Whitten continue from some day we may come to peace with the world within ourselves))

"So. Dude. 50 duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck? Who would win?"

Johnny and Daniel were sitting together under the smoke-filled sky, having done nothing but this for the past few hours. Asking the important questions of each other. Johnny just looking up at the sky.

"Uh... the horse. I mean, the duck. Big duck. Obviously," Daniel replied.

It still didn't feel right. Shooting the shit, just relaxing in a field of flowers under the sun. He didn't deserve it.

"...seriously?"

Johnny looked at Daniel with scrunched eyebrows, slightly offended.

"Yeah? Like, horses are scared of like, everything. And now they're small."

It almost felt blasphemous to be making such small talk in a place like this, mere meters away from Dan's body. But he didn't care anymore. It felt nice. It was nice, just being here, worrying about nothing for once. It almost felt like summer, like the first day after school.

"But. Like. These are horses. Against one duck. A big one, granted, but, imagine 50 duck-sized horses swarming you."

"But like, they're horses. They're not predators, right? I mean, ducks aren't either, but you look me in the eyes and tell me a duck doesn't have ten times as much bloodlust as a single horse."

He paused. Tapped Daniel's shoulder to get his attention, with the same hand he'd wrapped around Daniel's throat earlier.

Nothing would ever be normal here. You could only pretend things were the way they used to be, settle for that. That's as close as it would get.

So, that's what Johnny did. In this moment, they were just two guys talking about horses and ducks. Nothing more. Forget the rest. He would just live in this moment. This was what he'd been wanting, after all. Conversation.

It's not like these moments would last forever, anyways.

He looked Daniel in the eyes.

"A duck doesn't have ten times as much bloodlust as a single horse."

Daniel blinked. "...Okay I didn't expect you to double down there, but like, you're wrong. Would you look a duck in its beady eyes and tell it you're not afraid of it?"

This was... actually kind of fun. Which was weird. Like, everyone was dead, everyone was dead, there was a dead guy just out of eyeshot in the flower field even, but... Daniel and Johnny were just chilling like usual. It felt blasphemous, but blasphemy was better than sadness, so hey, he'd take what he could get.

"Yes. From a far distance, sure, but- look. Horses are pussies, I get that, but, doesn't that make them scarier? How scared they are? Like, some animals just go berzerk due to fear, you know. Would you want to be in the same area as a scared bull, for example?" Johnny replied.

The island was on fire and you couldn't escape the smell of smoke, but at least the sky was still blue. Nobody ever said Hell was red all the time, right? Like, Daniel was pretty sure most of that was artistic interpretation. Maybe the sky in Hell was blue so you could look up and think of Heaven and go 'aw man, I could've been there.' Blue like aquarium water. Probably. At least the smoke wasn't choking him. He had decided that he thoroughly disliked being choked.

"But like, horses run. That's what they do. That's like, their whole thing right there. I mean, they kick stuff, but a horse isn't gonna rush AT you to get a kick in. Also, where does this battle even start? Do the horses spawn like, in a circle around the duck? Because that could make a difference, " Daniel said. He had opinions about this. He knew he was right, for once in his life.

"...fuck I never thought about that. Uhhh, I guess?" Johnny was wavering. He needed to press the attack.

"Okay so like, if they're in kicking range immediately the duck's gonna have a problem, because that's a lot of powerful hooves, but if there's any breathing room the duck's just gotta quack like, once. And it'll be a big quack because it's a big duck and regular ducks are already pretty loud?" That about summed things up.

((Irene continued from Wings On My Shoulder Blades, There's No Angel Anywhere))

What were the odds that they'd run into each other again?

Anyways. Johnny had been mean to her a couple days ago. Roy said that Johnny had tried to kill him a couple days ago. Johnny was laying in the grass, next to someone else, having a perfectly nice day. The tickers lined up in double columns, and, huh. It looks like Irene really is making snap decisions about whether someone's life is worth continuing off of this counting scheme. But oh well. Give her a break. She's having a bad day.

And now it's Johnny's fault that she's having a bad day, wasn't it.

The selfish thing to do would be to just shoot him and not deal with him, so like. Give Irene credit for that, or something. Except she'd have to live with the guilt if she did shoot him, and that was probably worth more than anything Johnny did to make Irene's day worse, so she's still being selfish here. Whoops, oh well, et cetera.

Except all this emotion calculus and moral calculus and all this fucking math had gotten so routine that it barely even made Irene feel anything about it. Like. Is Johnny actually ruining her day? Would killing him actually make her feel guilty? It all felt very abstract and theoretical, like it was someone else's emotions she was trying to calculate. What does Irene feel like doing? Hard to say.

Irene caught Johnny's eye, which narrowed her options down. That was nice.

"..."

"How's life."

"OK, well..." fuck. Johnny started scratching his head, looking off to the side. Daniel got him. Maybe he could just insist they were, like, right at the duck's feet. Like, maybe they could kick the duck's leg until it broke and it fell over. And then he could declare victory. He never specified the scenario had to be fair, after all, and it was just a hypothetical fight.

That wouldn't be right, though. Wouldn't be badass-

He didn't get to use that term anymore.

It wouldn't be right.

Just as he was about to raise the white flag, Johnny looked up and caught glimpse of a shape in the distance arriving. He was almost about to thank this mysterious figure for saving him from certain defeat, but then he saw who it was and things weren't fun anymore.

His fingers dug into the soil.

He turned his head to Irene.

"It was going fine just earlier. You?"

...Well, crap. Johnny'd talked about Irene being a jerk and pointing a harpoon gun at him, and now she was here. Being nominally pleasant and pointing her harpoon gun elsewhere, but still. Had she killed anyone? Daniel'd been paying more attention to the deceased than the murderers, because, like, there was only so much information you could retain at announcement-o-clock in the morning.

"We've just been. Y'know. Chilling." It wasn't like, his turn in the conversation exactly, but he still felt like he should contribute. Maybe it'd help defuse things. Like, Johnny had every right to be fused, but it's not like that'd help things, y'know?

"Mmm. Chilling's good."

And it was.

So, like. Who knows. Maybe it'd be another Roy situation. Well, the middle part, the part where Roy turned out to be alright. Not the second part. Not the first part or the last part. Irene hoped this wouldn't turn out like the first part or the last part. Or "hoped", rather. Cuz it was optimal.

Truth be told, Irene was tired of math, and tired of explaining to herself when she could and couldn't do math.

"Me...well. You know. Doing cocaine and stuff. Yolo or something, right? It's getting old though. I kinda just want to take a nap."

No talking around it.

"And, hmmm. Roy asked me to kill him, if that's what you were wondering."

Irene watched Johnny's face closely. I dare you, her face said. I dare you to react badly.

"What else?"

Johnny nodded slowly. His eye twitched.

"So. You just did it, huh?"

His legs almost jittered, longed to stand up. Rush her. He didn't, though. Not yet. He was looking for something, and he hadn't found it yet. Hadn't even figured out what he was looking for, in fact. Remorse? Answers? Emotion?

"You just. Expedited the inevitable. Huh."

Johnny blinked a few times. His eyes were still dry, for some reason.

"What did he tell you? And why'd you do it?"

Guess that cleared any ambiguity. Just like Rachael and Kris. People knew that mercy killing wasn't like, the only type of mercy there was, right? They could've tried hugging, or sharing a goddamn ration bar or something before, y'know, killing someone. Just a thought. Literally just a thought, because he was thinking it instead of saying it to Irene's face, which he kinda wanted to do, but it's not like that'd be productive.

Irene seemed... off, but Daniel didn't know her well enough to judge if this was unusual. She was probably joking about the cocaine, but like, he wouldn't put it past the terrorists to just throw some onto the island somewhere.

He placed a hand on Johnny's shoulder, like 'woah man you and me both know this is terrible but let's not do anything stupid, okay?' He didn't say anything though, even though he probably should've, just because he hadn't been involved in their situation and shouting 'let's get along' from the sidelines probably wouldn't have helped much. Or been heard much.

Irene wished Johnny would stop looking at her like that. Like she'd done something wrong. Hell, maybe she had. But she wished he'd stop looking at her like that.

"He wanted to go out on his terms, or something like that. We talked a little before, got to know each other a little better, and then he decided he was about as ready as he'd ever be. Or something."

The details in Irene's head were a little fuzzy now, which was funny. The sun was really hot. Or bright, rather, in that way that made you feel hot-cold and feverish. She was really conscious of how much she was blinking, just now.

It struck Irene that she couldn't leave, now, even if she wanted to. And she didn't really want to. Not with Johnny staring at her like that. It was selfish, but. Oh well. It'll be fine, probably.

Stop looking at Irene that way, Johnny. Strike her down, if that's what you want. You know it's what you want. So do it. Do what you want to do, what you feel like doing, you. You. Do it, you.

Johnny wondered if it was their fight that had driven Roy to ask for death, or if it was something that had happened after. Something he hadn't been there for. Or if it was just life in general.

Irene could always be lying, of course. There was always that small comfort. Something told him she wasn't, though.

He shook his head, shrugged Daniel's hands off. He didn't need comfort.

The non-violence thing he and Daniel had sweared upon came to mind. He remembered. But he'd already broken it twice, already. What would one more broken promise matter, anyways?

He couldn't draw his eyes away from Irene's, now. She deserved to look him in the eyes. See everything.

"But, what's the point of shooting him, right?" He asked through gritted teeth, his voice low, quiet. Shaky. "This is just a little game, after all, right? Why'd you have to play?"

Daniel's hand was rejected, and instead of doing anything natural with it he kinda just held it front of him, because he hadn't expected to be immediately rejected, and things were already going downhill?

He needed to say something clever. Something diplomatic. Something to get Johnny to chill, to get Irene to realize they weren't a threat, without sounding like he has being manipulative or condescending or like, a kindergarten teacher or something. That's what he needed to say, but instead he said "I, uh, maybe we all need to like, take a breath for a second...?" in about the weakest voice possible. It sounded like his soul was slowly trying to escape his body, but like, wasn't very confident about it, so it got halfway out but then decided it still had something left to say, but it ended up saying that thing very quietly, because it was still halfway out of his body.

The other guy was saying something, and Irene should probably listen. But she couldn't, didn't want to. She was too busy thinking. Sorry, et cetera.

Because. Because this was a game, and what was the point of playing if you weren't having a good time? Why make someone keep on playing when the only winning move was not to play, and he knew it, and you knew it? Because, see. The only reason Irene was still here was because she still had a few things to do. She hadn't gotten to have her fun yet. She'd been too busy, with...other things. Pissing people off, getting pissed off. Killing people and then feeling bad about it, but see, it was the selfless thing to do, because she didn't need to do it. But she did. Even though it made her feel bad.

"Because. Why make him stay in when he's done and he wants out. Even if you don't want him out."

Johnny was angry, shaking. She envied him, envied him for the words coming out of his mouth. Envied him for that raw, unqualified anger.

Irene's not playing, Johnny. She's losing. Losing by a lot. Let her be selfish. C'mon. Say something, do something. Do something to make her do something that'll make her feel good about herself.

Daniel's voice came to Johnny as some quiet buzz. He actually tried to listen this time. He wouldn't repeat the same mistake he'd made with Rachael. But when he looked at him, Daniel had already stopped speaking. And the buzzing was intensifying.

He hadn't found it, what he'd been looking for. There was an answer, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't sure there was anything to be found anymore. No matter what she said, what she did, it wouldn't be enough. Roy was still dead. Irene had still decided that she had the right to make sure of that.

The only thing he'd promised himself a few hours ago was that Daniel and Johnny would stay together. Stay alive. He still intended on getting home.

He still needed to get his one.

Who else should he go for, if not Irene?

He pushed himself off the ground, and closed the distance between them.

Okay this was escalating quickly in a way that was very much not okay, and there wasn't time for Daniel to worry about what he should be saying anymore, which was kind of a relief but everything else was terrifying so it wasn't much of a relief?

He jumped to his feet shortly after Johnny and grabbed his shoulder again, but this time it was like a grasp and not a comforting hand, but this didn't amount to much because Johnny was a big dude and while Daniel wasn't exactly small he was a football man, not the tackling type of football man, so wrestling wasn't really an option, so he settled for just getting between the two extremely agitated people.

"Stop! Just stop, man! I dunno what you're trying to do but like, nothing good's gonna come outta this!"

So it'd happened.

Irene wasn't sure if she'd spoiled it already, made herself feel bad already. Maybe she could've been more diplomatic, done more to get him to chill out. She couldn't really feel good about herself if, like, she hadn't done the right thing. Or maybe Johnny would've attacked her no matter what, and she really did deserve to feel good about this, in which case she'd actually feel good about this, in which case, congrats Irene.

Whatever. It's happened now. She'll do her best to make this worthwhile.

Hey, dude. What's your name. Daniel. Daniel, move. Let this happen properly.

Or Johnny could shove you out of the way. That works too.

Irene just kinda stood there as Johnny hurdled towards her. Watched the fist coming toward her face, and does she dodge it? Does she just take it? Honestly, she can't really decide, and that might as well have been a decision in and of itself. There was pain, and in pain, vindication.

Now Irene grabs Johnny's forearm, holds it. Jesus, he was strong. And what does she do? Well. She bites it. As hard as she can.