JUNE OPEN LOG

[sailmods]

[but, hey: you shouldn't be left out of the camping fun just because you didn't think to sign up, or you only got here yesterday, or actually you only got here today and you have no idea what's going on! because the camp can come to YOU!

meaning, shortly after seeing the others off, Friday returns to the atrium and begins setting up a few items she's brought from... somewhere, one assumes? a pup tent. two sleeping bags. a tent stove. s'mores accoutrements. there's a fake potted plant that she decided looked enough like a tree. all pushed together in the middle of the atrium.

at her spot behind the desk, she looks visibly pleased with herself. she's doing her best.]

Comments

[ex_heaved685]

[ The ship was creepy enough with people, but now that they’ve all cleared out for camp, the small space feels even more haunted somehow. Vi finds herself seeking out the sparse few who decide to hang behind, just to escape the feeling of being swallowed up by the hulking space. She’s still unfamiliar enough with the ship that she doesn’t know where the “hub” of the place is, but she finds it eventually from a sickly smell alone.

The setup Friday has going is honestly very sweet, Vi feels mildly bad for trash talking the woman, even if she still doesn’t trust her. But something smells good enough that it pulls Vi closer.

She has no idea what a ‘s'mores’ is, but it looks incredible. Watching someone else put one together, she follows suit.

With her newly assembled sticky treat, Vi crams it into her mouth. ]

Holy shit.

[ It is incredible. Pure bliss. Vi reaches in to make four more s'mores stacks and starts to polish them off rapid fire. Everyone watch their fingers. ]

[businessorlibation]

There's plenty to go around. You don't need to make yourself sick eating all of them in the first five minutes.

[The man making that comment is short, slender and fine-featured, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a Serena Eterna t-shirt (he knows better than to wear his good suits around marshmallows).]

[ex_heaved685]

[ Vi has spent her whole life living beneath a city that symbolises progress and wealth. She knows how the people there hold themselves, their general demeanour, what they value and don't. And this guy? This guy seems like he would fit right in anywhere in Piltover, even when this dressed down. It would be a waste of breath to try to explain that whatever is in these tiny miracle treats is the first time Vi has tasted anything so sugary and good.

She rolls her eyes as she crams another s'more into her mouth, not bothering to swallow as she replies. ]

If I'm sick it just makes room for more. Sounds like a win-win to me.

[businessorlibation]

As you say, miss. They don't taste as good, coming back up, though.

...I'm Johnny, by the way. Johnny Summer.

[He's getting used to the brusqueness other people bring to the ship, and tends to not let it stick to him. He has his dignity, other people have their attitudes.]

[ex_heaved685]

[ Vi gives Johnny, once again, a very deliberate once over before finally giving him a small nod of approval. He's taking the pains to introduce himself properly, she'll give him dues for that at least. ]

Vi. Just Vi, don't need that 'miss' stuff.

[ She jabs a chocolate covered thumb at his t-shirt. ]

So, what's the story with the clothes. They're something.

[businessorlibation]

It's this, formal suits, or the stuff they sell at the Tommy Bahama. This is comfortable enough for camping out like this. Wouldn't want to get marshmallow on a dinner jacket.

[There's a bit of a self-mocking tone like he absolutely realizes how much of a ponce he comes off as. See, here's the thing. Johnny was born into a family of privilege, but left them as a young man over...irreconcilable differences...and had to build up everything he has from the ground up. He knows hard work, he knows struggle.

But he's made it now, owns a nice champagne lounge and gets to wear fancy suits on a daily basis.]

[ex_heaved685]

Tommy Bahama? You mean the big-ass shirt store?

[ Their tastes wildly differ, apparently. Vi likes the shirts a lot, and doesn't understand that in some places, the context of clothing is very important. ]

What's wrong with them? They're more comfortable than wearing a jacket to dinner.

[businessorlibation]

They're a little...loud? I don't tend to favor strong colors and patterns in my wardrobe.

[He's trying not to be an overt asshole about those hideous shirts.]

[ex_heaved685]

Only thing loud is your opinion.

[ It comes out a little more waspish than she was intended. There's a principal in prison: give no one a reason to bother you, and give everyone a reason to avoid you. It's a cycle she's stuck in, but it's different here. There's s'mores for one.

There's no reason Vi should be making enemies. ]

I didn't... mean that. Sorry. Your opinion is perfect volume... I'm just weirded-out stressed, you know?

[theweakhavepurpose]

[Weirdly, watching someone devour s'mores like it might be their last meal is strangely reassuring to Pratt. Maybe because he's been starved so much that he does tend to eat like a feral dog, but also there's something about enjoying a meal that he's absolutely forgotten about.]

Been a while since you had one?

[He's from Montana where camping is second nature, he's never met someone who's not had a s'more before. He skewers a marshmallow himself, holding it over the flame with ease. Muscle memory somewhere in there that remembers what relaxing is like.]

[ex_heaved685]

[ Vi gives a half snort-chuckle at that, which unfortunately isn't great for the mountain of crumbs accumulating in her lap from her binge. ]

Uhh, try 'never'. But they're pretty good.

[ And now that her stomach is reaching full capacity, she's feeling more generous. Vi holds a box of the s'more fixings out to Pratt. ]

Here. Unless you're wild about raw, uhh—

[ Vi pauses as she realises she actually has no idea what any of these ingredients are called, other than 'great'. She eyes the marshmallow and takes a guess. ]

Smushies?

[theweakhavepurpose]

Never?

[He blinks cuz how do you never have a s'more? A beat and then he remembers that cities exist. Right.]

Close. S'mores.

[He gives a half smile and takes the marshmallows, skewering one for himself.]

Imagine this over an actual bonfire, that's how it's normally done. You're outside under the open sky, big bonfire. Making s'mores and having a drink. It's real good.

[ex_heaved685]

S'mores, huh.

[ That's... honestly a shit word for something this good, but it seems like this is food from wherever this guy is from, so Vi won't go dunking on it right out of the gate. She looks up at the ceiling, trying to picture what he's describing, but... ]

Bonfire sounds nice. Don't know if I'm into the open sky thing. Sounds like it'd be weird. What if a bird or rain came by, night ruined, right?

[theweakhavepurpose]

The chaos is part of the experience. Some of the best stories are when you and your buddies have to run for shelter because of a freak thunderstorm.

[He pulls the marshmallow back to check it, licking his fingers when he singes them a bit.]

Where I'm from there's almost nothing but sky. Big Sky Country is what the tourist board calls it.

[ex_heaved685]

'Big Sky Country'. Like it's a wasteland?

[ Vi has seen murals around Piltover whenever she made it up there, detailing countries and cities well beyond their small corner of the world. But she was never sure if the painted scenery was all artistic imagination, wishful thinking, or the truth. But it seems like it might be the latter based on Pratt's info. ]

Is that really a good thing? Where I'm from having nothing kinda means you're on the shit side of the stick.

[theweakhavepurpose]

No no, its just forests and valleys and rolling hills. And because all the towns are so spread out there's no light pollution so you get a better view of the stars than most places.

And no skyscrapers to ruin the skyline. It's beautiful...

[He trails off thinking of the best parts of home. Though... Hm.]

Well, it's probably a wasteland now. A bomb got dropped on it.

And then I died.

But Sharky was saying it turned into a nuclear apocalypse so yeah... Guess it is a wasteland now. Big sky with noone to see it.

[ex_heaved685]

[ There's more questions Vi'd like to ask. Primarily what the fuck is light pollution, but the rest of the info coming forward seems more important to address. She can't get really get a good read on Pratt's feelings on his home getting wasted, but if he's anything even a little like her... casual dismissal is a person's best defence mechanism against the unthinkable. ]

Bomb, huh? Guess we got more in common than we thought.

[ Although Vi didn't full up see the rocket launch... she's got evidence of it now. ]

How's dying working out for you? You seem really... alive.

[ Vi keeps her tone joking. It's not that she's accusing him of lying, but more like willing to poke fun at the absurdity of their situation with him. ]

[theweakhavepurpose]

It's actually pretty good?

[He still sounds disbelieving because this place is eighty times better than home right before he died.]

Place to sleep. All the food I can eat. No ones shot at me yet. So it's pretty damn good. Cruise ship isn't what I would've picked but... [A shrug] Hasn't been awful yet.

[ex_heaved685]

[ Vi laughs at that, because it's a refreshing attitude to see in someone. There's plenty to mope about in the world, but having someone see the light in a otherwise shitty situation makes it easier on her too. ]

I'll drink to that.

[ But then there's the small problem of there being no drink. ]

You actually want to drink to that? I think if I eat anymore of these I'm going to be sick. The ghosts probably aren't using the whiskey in the bars, right?

[theweakhavepurpose]

I don't think so. I dunno what they're doing with it.

Campfires should always have beer too. It's sorta the law. And, you know, being an officer of the law - I gotta enforce that.

[Hell yeah it's time to hit up the bar.]