Survival

[formersurgeon]

Who| Sherlock, the Watsons, and OTA
What| Like it says on the tin
Where| The jungle
When| End of week 1, early week 2
Warnings/Notes| Sherlock, John and Joan are all available here to thread with, one of them, two of them, or all three. Just specify who in the subject line!


Surviving in the jungle hadn't been easy on the three of them. Among them, only John had any real outdoor survival experience prior to the Arenas, and that had been for deserts, mostly. Sherlock had plenty of theoretical knowledge on the subject, but not much practical experience beyond the previous Arenas. And as far as survival techniques went, Joan was the most useless of the three.

Regardless, they were making it work. They had picked a decent spot to set up camp, managed to keep their supplies passably dry, and took turns scouting or keeping watch while at least one of them stayed at the camp. That one was frequently John, since he had to stay off his injured leg as much as possible. Joan checked his stitches every day, and so far there hadn't been any major problems.

It was a relatively comfortable setup, but Joan knew it couldn't last. They were already running low on food, and eventually they would have to worry about the wrong type of person finding them. The kind of person who wanted to win. If they could only hold out a couple more days, until John's wound is sufficiently healed...

Comments

[alldeduction]

"Of course it's impossible," Sherlock said bitterly. Extremely bitterly. It was, in fact, the thing that was driving him slowly but consistently towards madness.

He waved his hand vaguely. "They can pretend it's all magic, or simply get on without thinking about it. But for us, who know the scientific method and know what is happening is still impossible..."

[drpsychosomatic]

He nodded, grimly. He'd come to the same conclusion even without Sherlock's brain at his disposal- but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"We're going to have to play the game," he said, eventually. "Once I'm up and about, we're going to have to."

[drpsychosomatic]

John smiled and nodded in Howard's direction, eyebrows raised as if to say yeah, I know, the leg again, isn't it ridiculous? - but despite the attempt to hide his very real frustration and annoyance behind the joke, it was fairly obvious he was genuinely pleased to see the kid.

"Looks like I've got someone to do the doctoring for me," he explained wryly. "Shouldn't brag about my double too much though, everyone will want one. You alright?"

[drpsychosomatic]

John had demanded to take a turn at scouting for food though he was fairly convinced he'd find nothing unless he happened to come across another tribute- and then, he wasn't convinced he'd be willing to kill unless threatened first. Still, it was better than sitting on his backside waiting to be murdered.

His leg ached.

When he came across the girl among the trees, he stopped short, fingers curling around the handle of the knife he was armed with more through habit than any desire to use it. If her expression meant business, his spoke of a steady, calm readiness, devoid of active aggression.

"Afternoon," he said, the greeting cool but cordial.

[formersurgeon]

"What's that quote? That any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic?"

She glanced at him again. Her mind was sharp and strong, but it wasn't nearly as rigid as Sherlock's. Where her mind was a reed, able to bend, his was a tree, tall and magnificent, but in the face of something like this, it would snap, and fall hard.

There had to be something she and John could do about that.

"We need to figure something out," she said. "About what to do to get food. As much as I hate pandering, attracting sponsors might be our best bet."

[iflipmyhair]

"Hello."

Homura's own tone was quite monotone, all things considered. She wasn't moving towards him, but again, she didn't seem to have an intention of moving. Well, mostly. Her legs shifted every so often, one going up, then going down, the other going up, then down.

It would have looked ridiculous, and she knew it would otherwise be ridiculous, if she didn't know that it kept the vines mostly at bay.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you pass until you have satisfied my inquiries."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"What, you think I make it to the finale every season by playing pattycake?" he says, responding to Joan's look. "But nah, no bomb-making materials. Yet. But maybe if I ask nicely the Sponsors will send me a junior chemistry set and I can really get cooking. No injuries yet."

He saunters over and takes a seat next to John, plopping himself down now in a way that seems almost spitefully territorial in Sherlock's direction. "But I did find velociraptors."

[alldeduction]

He let out a hard breath.

"I know." Was all he said at first. And he did. He did know. Four arenas in, he could barely remember his actual life anymore.

And he hated this one more than he could ever possibly say.

Oh, he knew.

"I'll think of something," He said quickly. "For now we focus on survival." He glanced up, meeting her eyes with a heavy warning gaze. They knew they'd have to do something, but talking about it was a bad idea.

The sponsors preferred a surprise, after all.

[alldeduction]

Sherlock prickles a little, Howard's territorial all too effective. He doesn't move, however, frowning as he listens.

"Velociraptors," he repeats as if he had never heard the word.

Dinosaurs weren't exactly a necessary subject of knowledge when it came to crime solving.

[alldeduction]

Sherlock's lips thin and his eyes narrow. It wasn't that he hadn't had the same thought, it was that his entire body was rejecting it. He hated, more than anything, being told what to do, and someone telling him to kill--

"I don't think that will be entirely necessary," He said, his voice clipped. "I'll think of something."

[formersurgeon]

She raised her eyebrows at him in understanding and looked away. Of course they couldn't make plans out loud, especially when trying to manipulate possible sponsors. Which was frustrating.

"John should be ready to be up and about in a couple days. We should probably move camp then." They had already been at this one too long. Been seen by too many people.

[alldeduction]

Sherlock nodded, glad that she had taken his meaning. "Yes. I would recommend it now, if..." He trailed off, his expression going stern.

"Yes, well. When he can move, then we should."

And in the meantime, he had to figure out a way for them to get sponsors that didn't involve murder.

[formersurgeon]

Joan glanced at Sherlock, frowning. He couldn't seriously not know what velociraptors are, could he? Maybe they call them something different in England.

"You've seen Jurassic Park, right? Vicious and intelligent dinosaurs. If tyrannosaurus rex was the sledgehammer of the dinosaur world, the velociraptor was the scalpel."

[formersurgeon]

"He's going to be okay," she said softly. "His wound is healing well, there's no infection, thank god, and his movement isn't bad at all, considering the damage to the muscle."

Of course, once all this was over and they were all dead, the wound would just vanish anyway.

[alldeduction]

It didn't matter to Sherlock that the wounds vanished externally - he knew the damage they took internally, built up over time.

John dying in his arms had become a pattern in his life - one he had absolutely no interest in ever repeating ever again.

"Good." He said tightly, though he was obviously far from fine with the idea. He gave Joan a look. "Understand that if something should happen to me--"

[formersurgeon]

"Then John and I will take care of each other," she said, her voice mild but firm. "That's what we did in the last arena."

He didn't have to carry the complete responsibility for their safety on his shoulders. They were in this together.

don't worry my tenses change like every sentence

[alldeduction]

Sherlock nodded, tightly. It hadn't kept them alive last arena, of course, but then little could. Given the odds they faced, death was almost completely inevitable.

"Good." And after a brief, tense pause: "Thank you."

[formersurgeon]

She nodded. Taking care of each other was pretty futile, of course. Taking care of each other last arena had meant Joan giving John their only dose of anti-venom and John holding Joan as she died. It was better than nothing, better than being alone, but still a terrible way to have to take care of a person.

She glanced down at his hand, and reached over to take it, to squeeze it. Hoping to be reassuring, comforting.

"You're welcome," she said softly.

[alldeduction]

He tensed slightly at the touch, frowning as he glanced down at it, though he didn't take his hand away. Not immediately. There was a time once we he might have snatched it back, but that time had disappeared after every arena, every death.

He knew how tenuous his grasp on himself and on his life was. And knew what it was that held him there. Eventually, however, he did carefully remove his hand.

"If we reach a point were certain decisions must be made--" he started, but currently himself off.

[formersurgeon]

She didn't hold on, releasing his hand once he started to pull away and returning her own to her lap.

"Decisions," she repeated, staring at the fire. "You mean like if the three of us reach the end together?"

It was a ridiculous thought. Of the three of them, John was probably the most likely to survive, and he was injured.

"Any decisions are likely to be made by whoever it falls on." Like in the last arena. Joan didn't exactly consult John before she gave him their only dose of antivenom. And she knows he wouldn't have consulted her if the situation was reversed.

[alldeduction]

He pierced his lips closed and did not say what he was going to. She was right, of course, in a way - if all three of them made it, then the decisions would fall where they would.

Sherlock would just ensure to make the decision for them, first.

So all he did was nod, tightly, and clear his throat.

"We should look for a new place to make camp, during our scouting missions," He said, as if he hadn't just been about to ask her for assisted suicide. "That should reduce the energy necessary for the final move."

[formersurgeon]

Had he asked her for assisted suicide, she would have flatly refused. She might not be a doctor anymore (technically, anyway...it was a technicality that was meaningless here) but she still took an oath to first do no harm. She could imagine the three of them refusing to choose. Or all committing suicide together, either by mutual agreement or by individual stubbornness.

But it wasn't worth contemplating now. Chances were it would never happen that way.

"The final move? Do you mean final, final? Like, choosing a spot and making a stand there?"

[drpsychosomatic]

"Well, I hope you think of something soon," he murmured, glancing up at the canopy of leaves above their heads. "Because you can bet your life and mine that just about everybody else in this damned arena is going to be deciding to play in a few days."

[drpsychosomatic]

John decided not to mention some of the other gaps in Sherlock's knowledge- but he was completely unsurprised to find he hadn't dedicated much brainspace to extinct megafauna.

"Well, that's new at least," he sighed, rubbing at his temples and offering Howard a wry smile. "Dinosaurs. Have to admit, I'm glad we got that spear, now."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Well, thankfully for both of us, I'm not particularly married to the idea of passing you," he said, with a tight smile. "I'm fine with going-" he paused, pointing to his left. "-that way."