[COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][CENTER][i]Helicopter shot over some woods and a rocky incline. You can make out figures working their way through the wilderness in a line formation, being led by two real hot slightly older ladies. An inner monologue starts up, you don’t know who is speaking yet. The voice is younger but deep and crisp, like a young Sam Elliot. [color=#B7EB6F]“I’d always lived for my adoring masses. The 100k-ish, I mean 1 million, followers I had on Instagram and Twitter. But now, I had to leave that all behind. And, I had to be secretive about it. So, this turned into a trip with ‘friends.’ In which, all my friends would be confused about who I took and [s]laminate[/s] lament that it was not them. Instead, I was off to a hidden school for hyper-humans, protected by the most elite that Canada had to offer. So like, Super Mounties or something…”[/color][/i][/CENTER][/INDENT][/INDENT][hr][CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/v71QiBN.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=#B7EB6F][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Team 78 Campsite - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=#B7EB6F][b]The Homecoming Trials: # 1.90:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Don't Stop Bee-Lieving[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=#B7EB6F][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Sierra # 2 or 3 or 4 [@JunkMail][/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=#B7EB6F][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]N.A[/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT]Snapping selfies in LA was easy. Just find the light, and it was arid and sunny enough that you always looked good. Snapping selfies in Canada was like trying to take a picture in a child’s ball pit—it really was a toss-up on what sucked the most. Coop tried to get a picture on a scenic rock, but there were too many tree shadows. Then he tried to get a picture out in the open, but the cloud cover made it look like he’d put on a cheap “night filter” that B-movies used. He tried by a tree with his flash on, but it was just too dang green. It washed him out in the weirdest way. So, he just took a picture of the tree and posted it. “Me and the boys hiking in Canada. Hope moose don’t like Italian.” He then had a crisis of intelligence. Was it “moose” or “mooses” or “mises?” Also, do they eat people? After a quick couple of Google searches, he felt better about his choices. Well, except for the fact that he could be gored by a moose. But that seemed quicker and less traumatic than being eaten. Speaking of which—

Halfway through the trek, Coop’s stomach made a horrible noise. It was almost cartoonish in the way groaned. He turned a pitched red and fished out a protein bar from his pack. His pack was 60% snacks, 20% a solar-powered ring light, 10% an extra pair of socks and underwear, and 10% EPI pens (he hoped). He eyed the bee girl, again. At least moose goring would be traumatic and dramatic. His throat closing against his will seemed almost comical. “He lived as he died, trying to ask for help but instead flailing around.” Also, his corpse would probably not be cute. Not that corpses were cute—but—he just wanted an open-casket funeral. Cool. Cool. Cool. Why was he thinking about this right now?

Fortunately for his spiraling thoughts, they arrived at the grounds. He immediately set down his tent. [color=#B7EB6F]“Man, I hope these tents were heavy because our personal masseuse is in them. I feel like an old lady in water aerobics. Hope I have slipped a disk.”[/COLOR] He made a dramatic show of bending his back only for it to pop. [color=#B7EB6F]“Oh hey!”[/COLOR]

No more thought was put into the tent as there was talk about pizza and a portable pizza oven. O-kay, maybe Canada had more in common with LA than he thought. As others milled around, he made a beeline (agh! He needed to make sure he brought his EPI pen) for the food. 

He had a large, if almost comically so, piece of his pizza hanging half out of his mouth when he was approached by someone. [color=#FFFFFF]“Ever been camping before?”[/color] she asked. He’d been looking at the group that was clustered by the bee girl, which had included this girl. This girl that was still in the group, and also in front of him asking him if he’d ever been camping.

[color=#B7EB6F]“Yeah. Used to go camping outside of LA as a kid. I mean the tents didn’t do [i]that[/i] but it wasn’t bad. I’m sorry—”[/COLOR] he trailed off as he shot his hand out to see if this second identical girl was actually there. He bumped up against her very solid body. [color=#B7EB6F]“Whoops. Sorry! I thought you were a hologram or something.”[/COLOR] His hand rested right below her shoulder but not too low as to be scandalous. He gently patted it as if he’d meant to do that the entire time. [color=#B7EB6F]“So, what’s your name? I’m Coop.”[/COLOR] He then traded pizza to his other hand to shake hers. He realized there was grease and cheese soaking it, and now it covered his left hand as well. In hopes of not smearing it all over himself, he leaned over to a tree and ran his hand down it. [color=#B7EB6F]“Nature’s napkin?”[/COLOR] he questioned, probably more to himself than to the girl in front of him. He then extended his fairly clean hand towards her—a few leaves stuck on it for posterity. [color=#B7EB6F]“That’s very hot of me, I know.”[/COLOR]
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