Reason It Out

[Primrosette]

Somehow Tiny found himself going back to the beach and he didn't have any clue why he even bothered to do so. Maybe he had been strangely hoping to see Rajni and Galahad camping out there or just to see Oliver passed out on the ground like that douchebag deserved. Although, he wondered whether he wanted to keep on moving forward. He didn't want to stop what he wanted to do and he wanted to make sure that Fisher got out of this. He hadn't even told Fisher that he wanted him to be the one to survive. He wondered what would happen afterwards.

((Tiny Sterling continued from Sing Us A Song; You're The Piano Man))

Was there even a future for the one who wins?

Tiny rubbed a hand over his chin as he was staring out at the side in front of him and his other hand was holding the gun in a firm grip. He had to keep himself alert for any signs of danger and he couldn't see any around their surroundings. But he knew that they shouldn't stay there and he honestly shouldn't have dragged Fisher to this open as hell area at all. They needed to find a new place to search for Galahad and Rajni. Tiny at least, hoped that those two had stuck together after he had left.

"Hey, Fisher."

He turned to his side slightly to look at the other boy and he was trying to think of what to talk about. They had both been pretty quiet while walking around and Tiny had wondered what was going on in his friend's head the whole time. Maybe he should just concentrate on the map areas and then they could plan out their next move to getting to Galahad and Rajni.

"So.... Are you hungry? Maybe we should stop here for now, have a little snack and then we can look through any areas of the map to see where we could go next." He said with a small nod of his head and he never took his eyes off of the other boy. "...If anyone comes over and starts to cause us some shit.... Well, you know what I'll do...."

He moved the gun slightly in his hand to make it all clear to Fisher. Sure, he did want to atone for his horrid actions and try to make things right for someone else who might need his help. But if a bad person like Pippa, Oliver or Victoria came along.... They were gonna get the gun treatment.

[Cactus]

"Stick 'em with the pointy end. Or shoot 'em with the pointy end. Yeah, I know."

His words were dry, yet he tried to inject just a little bit of life to them. They'd both been fairly solemn since leaving the bar, but really — what did you talk about at a time like this? Shooting the shit seemed a whole other life away from where they were now. As he'd been reminding himself as he'd walked: this was his life now. It had taken some getting used to the pitchfork's heft and trying to balance it as they'd gone so as not to tire himself out. If someone did show up and start accosting them, it wouldn't do him any good to be a useless piece of shit trying to prod at an attacker with his giant fork.

Fisher felt like he should have been working on a farm somewhere, not fighting for his life. Which of course, was ridiculous — it wasn't like he had the complexion for farm work. Or for the beach, for that matter, which was where they'd ended up.

Huh.

((Fisher Darden continued from Sing Us a Song, You're the Piano Man))

The talk of food did send his mind headed a particular way, and after he'd made his crack, Fisher nodded and stuck his giant fork in the sand, leaving it standing straight up. The meager supplies the Americans had supplied them were damp, bland and not overly appetizing, but it sure beat not eating anything at all.

"Y'know," he started as he reached into his pack, "I'm trying to figure out what the last real meal I ate was — before all this shit went down."

They'd been taken just before lunch, so the sad part was that it was likely breakfast.

"Cornflakes. Can you believe that? The last real thing I had was a bowl of freaking Cornflakes. What kind of shitty luck is that, right?"

Shitty luck. Oh, was that what gave him shitty luck? The thought struck him funny. A grin made its way upon his face. It spread, becoming a chuckle.

Finally, it was a laugh. An honest-to-goodness laugh.

"Shitty — that's the real problem right there, it — hah, Cornflakes! What the fuck, right? Had I known, I would've had a steak. For breakfast!"

A ridiculous sentiment, but Fisher couldn't help it. Feeling bad about everything was normal, now. The concept of eating a steak, let alone a bowl of cereal, was ridiculous in his current situation.

And yet, he laughed as he removed a sad-looking pack of crackers from his duffel.

[Sh4dE]

"...Ooooh I belieeeeeve in yesterdaaaaay!Why! She! Had to go! I don't know! She wouldn't saaaaay."

((Sebbo continued from Stand and Deliver))

Sebbo realized too late that people could hear him sing. Aw shit that was embarrassing. He quickly readied his scythe and looked at the two angrily.

"Whachu doing?"

[Primrosette]

Tiny had felt a small smile form onto his face as he listened to Fisher laughing and talking about what was the last thing that he had eaten. Cornflakes. Wow, holy shit. Tiny thought that it was kinda funny in a pretty fucked-up way and he found himself laughing along with Fisher a little. It felt nice to just laugh without a care in the world and he knew that this could be both their last chance of happiness together. Tiny was gonna take it all in and he was gonna keep it as a good memory in a shitty situation.

"No shit? Cornflakes are better lame as fuck. At least your last breakfast wasn't some burnt toast with cheese on it. That tasted bad, but well, there's nothin' that you can do about nasty food!" Tiny chuckled with a shrug of his shoulders and a gentle shake of his head. "Steak would be pretty good for breakfast. But, shit, I would have gone wild and just have some bubblegum ice cream! Haha!"

His laughter died down as he could hear someone singing. Very badly.

Tiny turned around to see that it was Seb-something and he knew that he didn't give a toss about this loser. He had avoided being near the guy back at home and there was no lost love between them. He guessed that having a hostile guy approaching them with a scythe would have happened sooner or later. So he was going to try to be civil at first. His grip on the gun had tightened slightly and he was staring at Sebbo with a calm, serious look.

"Oh, you know. Me and Fisher were just chillin' here. Mindin' our own business. We won't cause any trouble if you won't."

It was a clear warning and Ty hoped that Sebbo wouldn't do anything stupid.

[Cactus]

Bubblegum ice cream? Fisher laughed out loud; that would definitely not have even cracked his own top five as far as ice cream flavours went, but it was outrageous enough that his imminent demise seemed just a bit further away, if only for the moment. Days in to this ordeal, and Fisher was hungry, he was punchy, and he'd had enough stripped away from his soul that he was starting to wonder just what kind of life the winner would have upon their exit from this infernal resort.

Post-traumatic stress? Yep.

Exile from his family? Almost certainly.

Life in a strange new country that hated his kind because they were from somewhere else? Sounded about right.

All in all, this was definitely not the optimal situation for any of them to be in. This was assuming that the Americans were even planning to follow through and let them go. They could just as well execute the survivor on the grounds of being an enemy combatant, or whatever. These were all terrible thoughts, but they all remained on the surface of his brain, because he couldn't stop thinking of steak and bubblegum ice cream.

Fisher was torn from his barely-cheerful reverie by a new voice, to which he turned and quickly clocked it as belonging to Sebbo Boston; just great. Sebbo wasn't exactly one of his favourite people — the wannabe chav rapper got on his nerves with his attitude and his general lack of respect for those outside of his circle. Fisher had never had words with him, but if he had his druthers, he preferred to keep his distance.

Most of the people he knew were dead right now, so he supposed in this particular situation, he was utterly devoid of druthers.

"Hey Sebbo," his expression remained neutral. "We aren't here to hurt anyone, mate. We're just — trying to find some friendly faces."

Managing a friendly-looking smile, he couldn't imagine that it fit for all the hell most of them had been through. The last thing they needed was another confrontation. Nonetheless, he tried. He would damn well try until it killed him.

It probably would, too. That was a shitty thought.

"You one of those?"

[Sh4dE]

Friendly? Here? People were killing each other for no reason! This was so fucked up.

"Guys, guys. This is so fucked up man. What a fucked up colony this is. What is wrong with this colony? Australia did not end up like this. First they get their independence and now they are doing barbaric death matches. Fucking lunatics."

[Primrosette]

Tiny honestly didn't know what to think about Sebbo and he sighed softly, thinking that he and Fisher shouldn't have to deal with Sebbo right now. They had been normal friends for once around each other and Sebbo was now being a disturbance. Tiny knew that he was being selfish for wanting to keep Fisher to himself and he glanced down at the gun in his hand. No, he wasn't going to do that; not unless Sebbo gave him a reason to do so.

"Of course, they're fuckin' crazy. But we can't really do anythin' to stop them from doin' this to us." Tiny said with a casual shrug of his shoulders and he felt his arm tingle a little from the wound that he got the day before. He really didn't want to have a reminder of that. "....The best thin' for us to do is well.... We got to keep on survivin' and movin' forward, right?"

I wonder how long that is going to last for the three of us. Possibly not for long. God, I just wish that I could go for a swim and forget everything. But no. I can't do that. I have to stay alive for Fisher and for Galahad and Rajni wherever they might be.

"So.... Is there anythin' that you want from us, Sebbo?" He asked curiously.

[Sh4dE]

Tiny was pretty pragmatic. Sebbo could respect that.

"Yes. I have an offer. What about we duel? Man versus man. No weapons. Only our own strength. One on one."

Sebbo lowered the scythe.

"Winner survives, loser dies. It's a fair duel. The fairest kind of duel."

[Brackie]

There were ten people left alive that he knew of and three of them were on this beach.

Well, now four. What luck.

Oliver pulled the trigger and fired a spray of bullets into the air.

((Oliver Davies continued from Dude Descending a Staircase))

He wasn't aiming at them, of course. If he had been, it would have made things so much easier, but he knew what he was capable of and that was testing things. Especially if he missed. He aimed into the sky. The point wasn't the bullets, it was the sound.

There were three other boys on that beach. Fisher, Sebastian, and Tiny. The boy who thought he was funny, the boy who thought he was a musician, and the boy who thought that he was better than Oliver despite having had double Oliver's kill count last time they met. The first two boys were irrelevant, but Oliver had a vested interest in seeing Tiny again, and it was good fortune that Oliver decided a chance return to the beach.

He hadn't been far away, but upon seeing who was among them from as far away as he could, the bullets flew into the stratosphere. After which, he leveled his new gun and aimed at the three of them, before making his way down the sand to where they all stood. When he was a respectable distance away, he stopped.

"Morning, chucks. Hows things?"

Oliver's eyes bore into Tiny.

[Cactus]

The sudden gunfire really took the piss out of the whole situation; it scared the piss out of Fisher as well. In front of them stood one pissed-off looking classmate holding a big, piss-off sort of machine gun that he'd just fired in the air.

Metaphorically, there may as well have been piss everywhere.

He'd barely been able to believe his ears at the duel that Sebbo had gone and challenged Tiny to, but as he'd been about to speak up to inform both of them that doing such a thing was stupid as all hell — plus he didn't exactly relish the idea of having to defend himself or run from his life were Tiny to fall to Sebbo. Plus, this was supposed to be a fight to the death sort of situation. Fisher had already compromised a whole lot of what he believed was the right thing to do in such a situation when he'd watched Tiny kill Molly and helped move her body to the back storeroom. He'd been aghast, but the way that he'd watched a small part of Tiny die afterwards made it impossible for him not to support his ironically-named classmate.

So yeah — this whole thing had gone from 'mildly bad' to 'you are literally about to drown in the piss of fate' and his first, second and third reactions to the situation were to run. Naturally, his feet were frozen in place. His brain saw to that. Were he to take off running, Oliver would undoubtedly start shooting. He'd heard his name on the loudspeakers. He knew the game. Tiny and Oliver had killed before; he knew they would have no particular qualms about doing so again. Just thinking that thought in his mind felt utterly ridiculous for some reason.

Days in to his death game experience, and taking another person's life still felt wrong to Fisher. He may have been scared out of his mind and probably traumatized for however long he had left to live, but at least he still had his sense of right and wrong. The Americans had obviously mortgaged their own a long, long time ago.

Oliver had the gun pointed at them his whole way down the beach.

That abstract valuation on the remainder of his life was starting to look rather short.

"Peachy keen, thanks. These two blokes were just getting ready for an old fashioned round of fisticuffs and then we were all going for tea," he saw the gun, he heard the gun, he was afraid of the gun, but fuck it — Fisher always had blanched at unearned authority. "How the fuck do you think it's going?"

He'd just told Sebbo they were looking for friendly faces; he was starting to wonder if his was the only one left. Were he alive to hear nine more names on the announcements, he would be the only one left. The thought sobered him, and made him think twice of cracking any more smart remarks at the man holding the machine gun.

As he swallowed the wet sea air drifting in from the ocean, Fisher hoped neither of the other two did anything stupid. After all, he was the guy who brought a pitchfork to a gunfight.

[Primrosette]

Tiny wasn't sure what to think about Sebbo's 'deal' of having a fair fight with their fists as Tiny had, you know, strangled a girl to death with his fucking hands and he wanted to call Sebbo out for the idea. It was a pretty bad idea and he-

His thoughts just got interrupted by the sudden noise of gunfire and he felt his heart and body flinched from the surprise of it all. Tiny felt himself reacting by raised the gun in the direction of where the gunfire had came from and his eyes focused on the person who had done it, feeling a frown forming onto his face at who it was.

Freaking Oliver.

Tiny was silent as Fisher was talking to Oliver and his eyes were darting back and forth between Oliver and Sebbo. He had to get rid of the easy threat first. "Look, Ollie-boy! I don't have time to deal with you right now. So cool your jets and let me deal with this idiot first." He said simply as he gestured towards Sebbo and he really wanted Oliver to piss off vomiting his brains out again. "Sebbo, you got yourself a deal. But I'm not goin' to lose, I still have things to do."

He moved closer to Fisher and he handed the boy the pistol, winking with a sly smile.

He turned his attention back to Sebbo, ignoring Oliver for the time being.

[Sh4dE]

"Sup Olli." Sebbo waved at Oliver.

Then he turned at Tiny. Sebbo dropped the scythe and kicked it away backwards.

"Oh, we'll see."

Sebbo took some steps and raised both of his upper arm parts, covering his own face to smash it down at Tiny with full force.

[Primrosette]

Tiny raised both of his fists and he positioned himself into a stance that seemed like it could hold it's own. He knew that this was not a smart move on his part with Oliver right there with his gun in hand and he had to hope that Oliver wouldn't try to do anything dirty while he was going to take Sebbo on.

Speaking of Sebbo, it looked like he was making the first move and Tiny was focusing on the other boy's movements, trying to keep himself getting distracted by the other boy's dangerous presence. He used his better and uninjured arm to block at Sebbo's arms that were trying to bear down on him and he knew what he had to do.

You're wide-open, you idiot!

Tiny turned his body to the side to make his leg try to sweep at Sebbo's legs in a swift move to knock him off his feet.

[Sh4dE]

Sebbo felt something colliding with his arms but then felt a kick at his feet, so he stumbled a bit trying not to lose his balance.

[Primrosette]

Tiny was slightly annoyed that Sebbo was not falling to the ground as he had intended on happening and he took two steps back from the other boy, trying to think of what to do next. He didn't want to lunge at him like a lunatic and start pummelling him with his fists so he thought of something better.

"Come on, mate! You've gotta try harder than that!" Tiny's voice was taking on a taunting tone of voice to try to make Sebbo mad and he was hoping it would give him a better opening. "Are you even really tryin'?"

He then waited to see Sebbo's next move.