camppetoskey | WEEK 3

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?

23 CAMPERS REMAIN.

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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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N-not like this, not an innocent person, but... I don't think I could do it even if someone attacked me. [Sonokata would call him weak, but Chuuta's never killed before.

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.

And not just one person. It could be two.

[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.]

It would have to be two. [Because Chuuta isn't going to die.]

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.

... Yes. Drew.

[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.]

[And Chuuta... well, he has no will to live. Even before here, before now, he didn't have a will to live. He lives for other people. And here, he feels like he can't do anything for anyone.]

I can't do enough!

None of us can, in a place like this.

[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.

[None of us can.

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?

[Lenka's quiet for a little, but it's a contemplative silence.]

... 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.

But then someone else doesn't. [Chuuta's only been able to fight to protect someone for a few months, but he's learned that much. You can't run away and protect at the same time.]

I couldn't-- ["Why are you the only one still alive?"]

I couldn't do that.

Sometimes, someone else doesn't. There isn't always a choice.

[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.]

WEEK 3

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