Vacation Time!

[onceinabluememe]

You've been planning this vacation for ages, down to the last detail and now it's time to go! Time to pack your bags and get on the road to wherever! Aren't you excited? Better savor that joy while it lasts, folks, because no vacation is without flaws and problems.

You know how this works. Comment with your character name in the subject line and any preferences you may have. Comment to others and use the handy dandy RNG to pick out your vacation spot;


1: Camping
2: Beach vacation
3: Foreign land
4: Cruise
5: Ski Vacation
6: Wildcard. Whatever you want.

And then pick out how hideous your vacation will be:

1: Lost luggage.
2: Lost tickets.
3: Missed your flight.
4: Flight is delayed. And delayed again. And delayed some more!
5: Lost room reservation.
6: Food poisoning.
7: Wild animals.
8: Forgot something important.
9: GPS/Map issues.
10: Poisoning by local wildlife.
11: The weather is horrible.
12: Wildcard! Make something up.

Comments

[latetowork]

[He pauses in his chest comfort before looking over, the tiniest of quirks sneaking up to the corner of his lips. If Neo was a man prone to smiling, he'd be smiling. But he's not, not anymore.

...though with having saved humanity and all, he probably should have cracked a grin, at least for the beautiful sunrise he was given.

A small belch and a slightly devious tone asks:]

You carrying a gun, Phil?

[superbabysitter]

Of course I am.

[He sounds almost offended that you asked.]

[latetowork]

You like Captain America, right? Guy who throws the shield that's made of the greatest metal on Earth, the one that bullets ping right off of?

[A moment before he stands, cringing as he puts his hand back to his burning esophageal region. He motions to the flap on the tent, almost lazily. He's not even wearing shoes anymore, he's not even in leather, he's not even got on shades. For all intents and purposes, he's just an average, everyday, ordinary Tom.]

Bring your gun. Guns. Whatever. Bring them, I'll give you something to talk about the office.

[superbabysitter]

Sure.

[Phil gives a slight shrug, moving out of the tent. Let's be honest, here. This is a man who rarely blinks an eye at Gods falling from the sky. Instead, he simply wants for them to get into the car and be debriefed.

Pulling his gun out of it's side holster, he checks the magazine before shoving it back in. waiting for Neo to be ready.]

[latetowork]

[All right, all right. Focus. Concentrate. Shake it out. He hasn't done this in a while, forgive him, since the being dead...thing...kind of got in the way. But he doesn't need to really think that hard anymore about it. All he did was believe, and he quite literally believed himself to death.]

You want me to stop them or dodge them? Or you wanna see both?

[superbabysitter]

Let's go with dodge. I'd rather not have to explain to SHIELD why I came back with your dead body.

[Phil raised the gun, and without saying anything else, fired off three rounds.]

[latetowork]

[Holy shit, Neo liked this guy. He didn't give him a countdown, he didn't protest, he just shot. Shoot first, ask questions later.

That, and he was an agent without an earpiece. And he wasn't a virus. It was like having a friend that really couldn't kill him even if he tried.

By the time those three have passed, Neo's leaning back in what appears to be a rather uncomfortable position, something that Phil's probably seen on one of his super secret assassins. And for all the surprise on his face, there's also a tiny smile.]

Jesus Christ. You really weren't kidding when you said you worked with gods, huh?

[superbabysitter]

No, I wasn't.

[Phil holstered the gun again, giving him a nod. He was impressed, but not surprised--it showed on his face.]

That's a handy skill to have.

[latetowork]

[He stands up normally, the movement a bizarre sort of thing, almost like watching a Stretch Armstrong doll relax back into regular position. A simple half-smile before he walks back into the tent, patting the agent's shoulder as he does so.]

Come with me. I was going to save this til later, but I have something I didn't tell you I brought.

[superbabysitter]

Oh really? A passage down the yellow brick road, perhaps?

[He keeps his tone dry, despite his curiosity. He follows the other into the tent, hands behind his back.]

[latetowork]

Nah. Think more Oompa Loompas.

[From his duffel bag, Neo begins to unload a damn lot of sugary foods. Hershey's Bars, marshmallows of all sizes, and Honey Grahams. A bit of a sheepish look takes over his face, but only for a moment.]

I was going to eat them on my own. Kind of selfish about tasting food again, sorry.

[superbabysitter]

Neo, do you even remember how to make a proper S'more?

[That actually gets a bit of a grin on his face.]

[latetowork]

There is no proper way to make a s'more. There is only the desired end result, and any means that can produce said result is acceptable. There is no propriety in it.

[So he was waxing philosophical about preparing s'mores, it was something that infiltrated his life. Candies, cookies, vases, and orgasmic cakes were all used as tools to get him to the end; s'mores was just something else that would be inevitably analyzed to prove that reality was not always what one saw.

And while this was being said, Neo was pulling out what looked like a chop shop Foreman grill, some wiring, and a small laptop. For all intents and purposes, it appeared to be a grill that was controlled by a computer.]

What size marshmallow do you want? It can only do four at a time of the regular ones, so if you want super large it takes a bit longer.

[superbabysitter]

And now you're over thinking it.

[Phil raises an eyebrow, and quickly grabs the marshmallows.]

No. We aren't doing it this way.

[And with that he heads out of the tent. He's going to make a fire, Neo. And damn it, you're going to do this the true American Way. With lots of fire and burning.]

[latetowork]

[NO DAMN IT! NO!

Neo knew how to use a computer to get whatever he wanted, okay. For all intents and purposes, he was just an above-ground basement dwelling loser before he got pulled away and plugged out. He would hype himself up on Mountain Dew on the weekends, forget to eat, shower only for work, and spend all of his time in front of a computer.

There was no camping joys in the life of Thomas Anderson. And with Neo, much less so.

His plastic bag of sugar having been stolen (not borrowed) is a grave insult, and he lets out a heavy sigh before shoving the chocolates and sweet crackers into the duffel bag and following him out.]

Is there even any wood? Are you just going to shoot a tree down?

[superbabysitter]

It's called twigs and fallen branches, Neo. I know you lived in a basement, but you've seen movies before.

[Phil's already gathered up a sizable amount, and after crumpling up todays newspaper, he pushes it underneath the pile, setting it alight with a lighter.]

[latetowork]

[He doesn't seek a log to sit on, simply sitting on the ground. He's been in a lot shittier conditions, after all, a little dirt on his pants and clinging to his feet isn't a big deal.

He pulls the foodstuffs out, and slyly produces two skewers. Maybe he had a feeling this would go this way, maybe not, but there they are.]

I only watched good movies.

[superbabysitter]

...oh and what did you consider good?

[Phil took a few branches, and after cleaning off the small twigs from the edges, shoved two marshmallows on each. He handed one to Neo, placing his own over the fire.]

[latetowork]

[Without concern, he unwraps a chocolate bar as the gelatin sugar ball burns, eating it on its own. He brought far more than two could eat. Food in the Matrix, fake as it was, had become to be such a treat.

He's quiet, eyes narrowing. He has to think carefully now...]

Point Break. War Games.

...The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

[superbabysitter]

...those movies are cult classics for a reason.

[In a so bad they are good, way. Phil burns his marshmallows with almost an exact precision. Pulling them off the fire, he starts to work on the graham crackers and chocolate.]

[latetowork]

[Neo actually stops to watch him. It's admirable, how quickly he adapts. How quickly he picks up on things. But, it does draw out a question...]

You a boy scout growing up, Phil?

[superbabysitter]

Ended up an eagle scout, actually.

[Phil smirks, taking a bite of his first one, licking a finger absently.]

It's that obvious, I know.

[latetowork]

[Dark eyes lift to stare at him blankly.

A blink, which is rare coming from him when he's out for staring.]

I don't know what the difference is, Phil. I didn't go outside much, can't you tell?

[He did bring a tech'd out grill for marshmallows, that's a pretty big sign.]

[superbabysitter]

Eagle scout is the highest honor a boyscout can get.

[Phil smirks, starting work on another.]

I was very thorough.

[latetowork]

I see. It's like...king of the boy scouts kind of medal. Honor. Whatever you want to call it.

[Neo's marshmallow is extremely brown by this point, so much so that when he pulls it away there is still some fire tapering off at the end of it. It's not rocket science how to make one, so he simply squashes it between two crackers with chocolate, pulls it off the end, and watches as the chocolate immediately begins to melt. Funny, the way things work.]

So how do you go from learning about poison mushrooms to...where you are now?