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

[businessorlibation]

"Hm, I think if I did mint chocolate and marshmallow, I'd want to put it on a chocolate biscuit or something, instead of a graham cracker. But I can definitely see strawberry syrup going well with everything."

He offers Pratt the marshmallow bag and a roasting skewer helpfully. "New arrival, I take it? Johnny Summer, cabin 102. The ship's usually livelier."

[theweakhavepurpose]

"Yeah. A few days ago. Deputy Pratt." He takes the skewer and looks at it strangely before sitting down with the bag and popping a marshmallow on the end of it.

"Been a while since I've done this." as if he's apologizing for something when he hasn't done anything yet. "Seems real empty when there's no one around. Don't like it, makes me nervous."

Though he has a look like probably everything makes him nervous.

[businessorlibation]

"A lawman--I'll need to introduce you to Crabb at some point. She used to be a police inspector, herself. She's not on the excursion this time, even. But yes, everyone ought to be back in a few days. Though we still rattle around the ship like marbles in a tin can. There's somewhere between fifty and seventy-five passengers, and this ship was clearly built for hundreds."

Pratt seems like the laconic type, which is alright, because Johnny is glad to carry a conversation.

[theweakhavepurpose]

"Yeah, in Hope County, Montana." He sets his marshmallow to roast, turning it slowly so it browns on all sides. He may not have done this in a while but there's some muscle memory from someone who has roasted hundreds of marshmallows in his time.

"That's a lot more than I expected considering I've seen about eight people." Granted that's likely because he hid in his room and also slept for a full day. "Excursion? Like... offship stuff? Never been on a cruise."

[businessorlibation]

"Mm, they're opportunities you sign up for in advance, to leave the ship. Last time, people were told it would be a strenuous hiking trip. It turned out to be more like...a group gladiatorial battle, survivor takes all."

And yet, everyone fucking signed up again.

[theweakhavepurpose]

"What happened to the winner?" Pratt is imagining ritual sacrifice. Or maybe the winner gets to pick the next excursion.

He sets about squishing the marshmallow between some graham crackers and chocolate, taking a hearty bite.

"Forgot how great these are." Enjoying his snack and then licking the chocolate off his fingers, "Everyone left on the ship people who didn't think they could win this time?"

[businessorlibation]

"Some arrived too late to sign up. Some had enough last time. And I just haven't decided anything's worth leaving the ship yet."

Which is to say he has agoraphobia and can't get himself past the mental blocks to consider leaving the ship yet.

"As for the winner of the last battle royale, he was celebrated with a formal dinner. The Captain even showed up for it. It, ah, got a little heightened."

[theweakhavepurpose]

"That a fancy way of saying everyone started fighting?" Because while he's not that upset about being here what with the all you can eat food and him being dead, he could see where others are pissed as hell and want to kick the shit out of the guy who did it.

"I dunno why anyone would leave when there's a free buffet. Though maybe there's an even better one offship. Like in Vegas." Sure the novelty of free food will wear off eventually...but it'll be a long while for this guy who hasn't had a decent meal in months. Or steady access to real food.

"How long you think they'll be gone?"

[businessorlibation]

"Everyone was told to fight--they all had collars that would kill them if no one was killed within the first 24 hours. And so they did. They fought and killed one another. Every television on the ship showed it, all day and all night. In full detail."

Johnny shakes his head slightly. "Anyway. Uh. This current excursion is supposed to be for a week."

[theweakhavepurpose]

"At the party? Some dinner. Was there even food?" He has his priorities very straight. "Sounds just like home."

Hopefully with less questionable meat chunks. He digs another marshmallow out of the bag to start roasting, he's someone who used to subsist on junk food and energy drinks, and oh how he's missed sugar.

"Huh, that's longer than I expected." furrowing his brow as he wonders why it would take them a week to all kill each other. Unless they're somewhere really huge and spread out.