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camppetoskey2018-06-18 10:09 am
WEEK 3
Another Sunday, another day to rest and recover after trial. The weather is now uncomfortably hot and humid after all the rain - perfect swimming weather, if what happened during the execution didn't put you off from swimming for a good long while.
As before, The RV's have changed, but it might not be the best idea to go and bother them after last week's...well, mistake. Maybe give it a week to rest. Additionally, if anyone tries to play the Wii, they will find that Chloe, Talcott, and Sayama's Miis have disappeared - as well that the machine itself is spitting out some strange music at the home screen and the Mii channel. The games seem unaffected by the musical change, at least - and there's now a copy of Mario Party 9 ready to be played alongside Wii Sports. Try not to murder each other or fling the wiimotes into the tv, alright?
The rest of the camp is the same as always, though now fishing equipment is always left out near the lake and beach, and there's a taped on sign on the slope railing declaring 'DO NOT LEAN ON.' Looks like they finally noticed the hazard that thing could potentially be. The kitchen has been fully scrubbed, the faint scent of lemon wafting in the air. Hm.
Two weeks have gone by, and with it, 6 of your fellow campers are gone. There are only six weeks left - six long weeks, and your chances of making it out dwindle all the time.
Knowing that, what will you do?
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((We'll have the Weekly Mission on Wednesday, 5-6pm EST. No other extra events are currently scheduled at this time.))
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[Like, he supports the idea of working to keep your enemy underestimating you, but Lenka's trying to figure out how to let Chuuta know that there's a certain point of keeping things on the down-low where your allies also start side-eyeing you.
This is probably that point. Above thread notwithstanding because timelines are hard.]
It's harder to work together, with more secrets.
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In a place like this, Chuuta doesn't know how much working together really matters.]
I just wish they'd leave us alone. [He wishes everyone would just leave him alone.]
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Even if they left us alone here... I don't think it would help.
[He assumes they're talking about their captors, whoever and wherever they are now.]
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[As much as he wants to indulge in the what-ifs, they don't have that luxury.
Not with things the way they are, and not at this point in what they've learned about this camp. Even if they could escape this place and everything it tries to make them do, everything it does to each of them... What then? But he doesn't elaborate on that.
It's enough that they need to find an escape in the first place.]
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[Because he isn't admitting defeat, and that's not the way he meant it.]
We won't do it without getting shot at, but we have skills. Manpower. We're learning more. [...] It won't always be all right. We'll make mistakes.
But we won't lie down and die.
[As wobbly as his own faith and determination has become, in some ways, that's the one thing he won't budge on. Death isn't something he'll simply accept. Not without his own terms.]
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Someone will die. More than one person.
Chuuta doesn't want it to be him, can't let it be Drew.]
Hopefully no one dies this week. I mean, I know why Lillith did it, I... thought about... doing something that first week, just so we wouldn't all die. But, the stuff last week and this week aren't worth killing for. [He's thinking aloud.]
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He hadn't thought of anything, that first week, but overcoming through something other than death -- perhaps he was too stubborn; he still doesn't know, exactly. But if it had gone on longer than a week; if the motives had kept being like that, threatening them all with death unless they complied... Lenka knows what sacrifices look like. He's even talked to Chuuta about something like this, before.
However.]
They're not. What stopped you? In the first week.
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I know I should be able to, but...
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[It's half prompting, and half genuine curiosity. Perhaps helpfully, there's no trace of judgment in his tone. They're all here because they're expected to kill, somehow.
He still doesn't know how they choose the campers, though.]
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Except...
But they aren't dead, the reason no one found their bodies was because there were no bodies to find. There's just the weight of years of thinking they were, of believing it was his fault.]
I don't think I could live with myself.
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[It's soft, not a reprimand, something of a reminder.
Kill, and be prepared to die.
Or kill, and then let someone else die for what you did.
Not just one, but two innocent people, and that's the thing: even if he could bring himself to sacrifice someone other than himself (that's the key, isn't it, that there's no way to sacrifice someone else if he still has himself)... depending on the motive, it would require at least one more sacrifice. For trial. It's an impossible choice.]
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Even if I... even if I were to kill someone and confess, it would still be two people. [Because, of course, Drew counts as a person.]
I couldn't do it.
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[A reminder for him as well; in a way, he keeps thinking of Chuuta and Drew as extensions of the same person, because he can only hear one of them and he met them literally together, but... something to keep in mind for the future, too. But that means that as long as Drew is here... maybe he can be a moderating influence.
Maybe.]
Focus on staying alive, then. Focus on what you can do.
[It's advice he has trouble following sometimes, himself. The more death surrounds you, the harder you need to live to account for it. That's what he'd grown up in. He's still figuring it out.]
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I can't do enough!
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[It's said gently, but firmly.
If you live for other people, and carry on their hopes and their fears and all their dreams, then that also means that sometimes they will be the ones to carry you. It's debatable whether that's always a good thing, and Lenka's still figuring all of that out, but it means you can't remain in place.]
That's what it will feel like. Until we get out of here.
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It's not just him. He's not the only one who feels like he can't do anything.]
[Everyone's just as useless as you, Chuuta!]
Thanks, Drew. [He says, sarcastically. But it does pull him out of his downward mood spiral a bit.]
... have you ever been through something like this before? I mean, something where you felt like you couldn't do enough to protect people?
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... Yes. [softly] I became a God Eater a few months ago. No one else can do anything against the Aragami, where I come from.
[Low-key fifteen years of being a useless civilian, go.]
You learn the best ways to survive. You run. You survive, and keep running. [which admittedly sounds a little bleak in a place with nowhere to run to, but:] Until you find a way out. Better ways to fight.
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I couldn't-- ["Why are you the only one still alive?"]
I couldn't do that.
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[He doesn't really mince words with that, though his voice is still soft and unchanging. Stating facts. It's what they've been living here now. Week after week. Sometimes other people don't make it out and there's nothing you can do about it. Sometimes other people make their own choices.
As for what you can do--]
Someone taught me once -- you run to survive. The longer you survive, the more people you can save.
[And sometimes that has to be enough to make up for all the ones you didn't.]