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]

"Force feeding anyone anything from the landscape would give you sufficient means to kill them," Sherlock said blandly, as if he might be talking about the weather. "Inducing cyanide poisoning would be a particularly convoluted way of dealing with enemies if you could simply skewer them with a spear instead."

He prickled, a little bit, at her mention of her Sherlock, though he wasn't entirely sure why he did and the emotional reaction to it was a little infuriating. He didn't care that there were other hims, elsewhere, rattling off lessons. Or at least he shouldn't.

His voice was slightly tight when he added, "Or a disparity of resources," just to prove himself just a touch smarter than the other one of him. "But yes. If they starve us out, it will be that much more likely to induce one or more tributes to commit murder."

[formersurgeon]

"Yeah, that was a corollary," she replied. She looked again at the leaves and berries. "They say that poison is a woman's weapon. Which is really sexist." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Still, the point is the same. It might be easier for some people to skewer you than to poison you, but not for people who can't run you through for whatever reason. I couldn't do it. If I wanted to kill someone, I would have more luck figuring out a way to get juice from the berries in their water or something."

She looked up at Sherlock.

"It's why people use traps."

She left the specifics unspoken, but she was thinking of the bear trap that took John down in the last arena.

[alldeduction]

"Remind me to double check my water," He said, a smirk flickering at his lips. (An attempt at dark humour.) But the humour died at the implication of her last words, his expression growing tight. Not only had John died of a bear trap, after all, but he'd fallen prey to one once as well. (His deaths never seemed to diminish in his memory - stark points on an otherwise bleaker and bleaker landscape.)

"Well you'd have more luck making a tea from the leaves than you would from the berries of that particular plant. The leaves would be a faster and more sure death."

[formersurgeon]

"Ha. Right. That way I'd have John all to myself." She gave him a small wry smirk. She was so kidding. She had no intention of getting romantically involved with anyone, and wouldn't choose between Sherlock and John regardless.

Even though a love triangle would doubtless intrigue the sponsors.

"A tea. Good to know." She considered for a moment. "Hey...I know everything here is poisonous, but have you seen anything that might have medicinal value in small amounts?"

[alldeduction]

He chuckled lowly to her comment before she asked the question.

Sherlock shook his head. "Not that I would trust. You don't go to lengths like this to keep anything useful around. If I had my lab equipment, that might be a different story, but I certainly wouldn't attempt to use anything here without a good deal of testing."

He frowned, eyes catching hers.

"You cannot think of the arenas as real places. They aren't. The ecosystem and environments are designed specifically to impede us. My first arena was an ice field, with giant crevices were 'magic' was suddenly enabled. Then Disneyland. Then the place made entirely of candy. Then here. Disneyland was the only one that could be construed to be a 'real place', though they did their best to make it incredibly dangerous."

[formersurgeon]

She nodded, looking away. "It's one of those things. I mean, I get it, but my brain doesn't want to actually believe it. Because it's impossible. This whole thing is impossible, start to finish." She sighed. "If it's this bad for me, I can't even imagine what it must be like for people like Wyatt and Maximus. To them, even the television screens are impossible."

[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..."

[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."

[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.

[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]

"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?"

[alldeduction]

Sherlock nodded slowly. "Have you noticed that the island is shrinking?" He asked, glancing at her.

"Every time I go out to scout, I go to the beach. It isn't just the tide. The water line is advancing."

[formersurgeon]

She stared at him for a moment. "I think I've been going in a different direction,"she said finally. "That's really not good." They're not going to be able to hide, and people are going to be more likely to kill each other if they were on top of each other.

Sherlock doubtless knew that, though, so she didn't say anything.

[alldeduction]

He knew. He knew better than she did, probably, but he didn't say it out loud.

"No, it's not. So I think it would be in our interest to make camp somewhere in the center of the island, and fortify properly. We have enough equipment to make decent traps..."

[formersurgeon]

"Traps," she repeated, looking away. "What are we talking? Tiger pits? Non-lethal traps don't really make sense. It's not like we can just hold people captive."

They'd have to kill them, regardless, and Joan was still firmly against the idea of killing anyone.

[alldeduction]

Sherlock shook his head.

"You're thinking too literally. A trap isn't only a means of death, or a means of imprisonment. It can be a warning system. We need only set up an array efficient enough to give us sufficient warning of intrusion."