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Who is this sassy lost child
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Well, that was a letdown.

Okay, that was being uncharitable. Penelope had strong convictions and strong morals, and the urge to write her plan off as Sam or some other friend's death hitting her even harder than first thought was a disservice to those morals. Raina knew her misgivings must show in her expression, so she hurried to voice her thoughts.

"Okay, well, you know that's not exactly what I wanted to hear. But-" She held a hand up quickly to stay any objections. "But... look. I've been working on a bit of a plan myself, alright? I am looking for an escape plan. I've got some ideas." She swallowed, glanced at the nearest camera. Ideas alone weren't enough for her to lose her head, she was banking on that. She took a deep breath.

"Look. I'm not going to give up on looking for a way out. But if- if it comes to that..." Even voicing the option sent a shudder through her. For five days now, she had been repeating it to herself: she wasn't going to die here. She would think of something.

She didn't intend for it to come to that. Not just yet. Not ever.

That was without even getting into all the holes Raina could poke in the plan. The irony of it all was that every new person who joined in was another chance for things to go wrong. All it would take is for them to listen to the announcements, to really stop and think about the fact that Penelope was proposing mass suicide, and go "That's not going to be me." It'd probably be difficult to convince more than a handful at any one time, and by the time only a handful remained... well, it was probably safe to assume everyone who got to that point was playing for keeps. It wasn't feasible. She could see that clearly, eyes free of Penelope's film of idealism.

"If it comes to that then... then we make our point. Go out with our middle fingers up, and all that." But for now, she could agree with Penelope, because she didn't need a lecture on morals. She could agree, so maybe the people behind the cameras would disregard her ideas for just one more day.

She would think of something.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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Hemochromatosis · Helipad