The psychologist set off back up the mountain, first thing in the morning. She wouldn't normally have got up that early, and didn't really want to, but everyone wakes up at sunrise upon their first night in a tent in a while. And once she'd woken up, she had to set off right away. The prisoners were in a routine of climbing, by now. Their dwindling numbers arguably made them more of a threat; the mentality of a group can be easy to predict, but the smaller it gets, the more prone it is to being disrupted by new ideas, and the easier it is to destablise it via particularly strong-minded individuals. So she had to rely, all the more, on ensuring that nobody would doubt what they were doing. And that meant sticking to the routine that they'd already fallen into. Humans are particularly adaptable animals; pretty much any situation can seem normal, especially if you've slept a night during it. And as such, the prisoners were in the habit of climbing by now; they wouldn't even really stop to consider why, any more.
Really, it would have made more sense to start climbing back downwards. This would be decided soon, one way or the other; and if they'd started climbing downwards right away, she could have expected one side or the other to have surrendered by the time she reached the bottom, as long as everything continued as it was. But making sure everything continued as it was was the hard part. She couldn't really risk changing things round at this point. Not to mention, going back down before the ringleaders admitted their responsibility would mean she would be breaking her word, right back at the start, to continue until there was an admission. And even a trivial sign of weakness like that might well make her lose her grip on the whole situation.
She wasn't, however, sure how much longer she could keep climbing. Sure, she wasn't exactly unfit, but some of these prisoners hadn't really had anything better to do than exercise all day, for months. And she wasn't exactly soft, but it was getting quite cold up this high, and it was only going to get worse. And she was used to living in well-heated offices, rather than drafty cells.
So, the only option was to make the prisoners decide things sooner rather than later. She made sure, just before they set off, to describe how difficult the next section was. She knew it wasn't, really; she hadn't been up here before, but at least she had a map, so she had some idea of what was coming. And if the prisoners thought it was difficult, they found it more difficult. Likewise, if she had to slow her pace from time to time, it was seen not as weakness, but as struggling over some particularly hard section. And as such, so long as she didn't convince herself that what she was saying was true, which is actually surprisingly difficult to avoid, she would still be able to stay ahead of them.
It seemed to work, at least. Although they'd been bickering for ages, they hadn't got much further before the prisoners made their minds up, and N's body went tumbling down the side of the mountain.
And, soon after, victory. The situation for the remaining ringleader was hopeless; even if they managed to hold out until the end, they'd be so high up by then that there'd be no chance of surviving the journey back down. If they even survived the journey up. Admitting what they'd done was the only other option, but after being responsible for this many deaths, they were under no illusion that the other prisoners would have mercy on them, even if the psychologist did.
Of course, walking up to the rest of the group and outright admitting to be a ringleader would have been stupid. There was another way. Soul227 turned round, and started running back down the mountain. No safety rope, no tools, but it had to be worth a try. It was a few tens of seconds before the others realised that they were gone; although as soon as the break for it was noticed, the others instantly realised why.
The psychologist, who'd been ahead of everyone, was now behind. No matter, really. There was no shame in being cautious on the way back down; the threat was over now. The scramble of prisoners chasing each other below her receded back into the distance; but she knew, now, that they'd be back. Those who survived the chase, at least; at this point, they'd even turn themselves in, if necessary, rather than face the wrath of their peers. More importantly, her own life was no longer at risk, just so long as she did nothing stupid. She picked up a tent that one of the other prisoners had discarded on their way down, and carefully started climbing down to find somewhere to pitch it. The prisoners weren't her problem any more.
In post 1773, Cerulean wrote:I wanted to look for reasons I was right about N, when my biggest paranoia was you and deadpool. But, carry on...
Did you even do this? I don't recall fielding one question from you to me about Deadpool today.
If you would have read regfan you would have seen him talking me out of it. It's something I agonized over because of the way deadpool's read on you changed. But I didn't push it because I was trying to work it out myself.
