week 1 - jack - saturday post-trial

[completelycrazy]

[Newt is exhausted, and that's putting it lightly. Seven hours cooped up in muggy longhouse arguing with each other over a murder. That sucked in every sense of the word.

The night air is a much needed reprieve. Typically, he'd want to go relax on the beach and chat with some of his new friends, but wow is he done with people for the day. All he wants to do is go pass out and... figure out how to feel about everything in the morning, he guesses.

He drags himself into his hut, flops down on his bed, and digs his mp3 player out of his pocket. It's on its last legs, but eh, that's all the more reason to use it before the battery dies. He needs it tonight.]

Comments

[almosthandsome]

[Jack comes in not too long after. He yelled at the ocean and kicked some stuff, and now his feet hurt and he's just feeling sullen and used.]

[He closes the door and instead of heading to his own pallet, he tosses himself down next to Newt on his partner's with a sigh.]

So today sucked.

[completelycrazy]

[oH. HEY??? Newt is confused but okay sure he'll scoot over to make some room for Jack??]

That's an understatement. [...] But at least we, uh, picked the right guy...

[Kind of.]

[almosthandsome]

Don't say 'right guy', it was only 'right' because of Dicklick and Assbag. They're using us, the freaking abominations. Jeeze, I just wanna....I dunno, piss in their central processing banks or something. Burn down their...oh who am I kidding, they don't give enough of a shit about anything to make it worth burning down.

[Yeah, Jack's just gonna lie here and stare at the ceiling with you, Newt.]

[completelycrazy]

[Newt shrugs.] It was the right guy in terms of the game. We did what we were supposed to do, and yeah, it blows, but we're one step closer to getting out of here.

[That's unfortunately a win in his book, if bittersweet.]

I thought we were supposed to be keeping our heads down.

[almosthandsome]

I said I want to, not that I'm gonna. Thought and action, buddy, there's a big difference.

[Jack turns his head, fixing his mismatched eyes on Newt. There's a serious expression on his face, something hard in the way he regards the other man. it's not directed at Newt, rather the topic of conversation that's been brought up with an offhand comment.]

You get how we get out of here, don't you? The game's real, it's gonna go how those ass-shits say, and that means...we gotta be the last team standing. Think about that for a while, really think about it. 'Cause I have. And I am not happy.

[completelycrazy]

[Newt is, for once in his life, too tired to argue. He's just gonna let the thought vs. action thing go even though he knows there's a difference, jeez, but... He's not sure he likes the way Jack is looking at him. He doesn't want to think about how serious this is right now. They've had, like, nine hours of serious. He's hit his limit.]

That's not... That can't be the only way to get out of here. That was one option, yeah, but that's not it. What about the roles? The ones that are designed to making sure we keep this up week after week? If we can figure that out and, uh, stop them... That should end the game. Yeah.

[Wishful thinking, maybe, but systematically slaughtering everyone on the island can't be the only solution. If it is, Newt's dead.]

[almosthandsome]

I haven't come up with another one, Newt. Not that I haven't been trying, I mean...come on. I don't wanna see everybody here... there's people I like here!

[His double, Katara, Mera...he doesn't want to see them die. That would suck, a lot. But he can't figure out how to beat this system.]

But I'm pretty sure if we stopped the designated killers, Dicklick would just do something else to keep the game going or just kill all of us for funsies. And how would we even stop them? What if they're people we like, huh? What if one of our friends is a designated killer? I'm just laying everything out here, I'm not saying 'let's start killing people' or anything. But we gotta be prepared for the worst. And hope for the best.

[completelycrazy]

There's people I like here, too.

[He groans quietly, pulling off his glasses to set them on the mattress next to him. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms and stays silent for a long moment, just... trying to think, and failing.]

How do we even prepare for that?

[He's pretty sure they can't.]