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The lads decide/get blackmailed into/get dragged into/volunteer to go on a road trip. I see no way in which this could go wrong.

Dramatis Personae

--The Lads--

FENWAY ASH as The Leader

VINYL STRANOV as The Lancer

MARKUS ERROR as The Smart Guy

IVAN KINTOBOR as The Big Guy

DAYNEL as The Chick

ACH as The Sixth Ranger



= = = =Part One: Situation Normal, All Fucked Up= = = =

"Just fucking go already," Vinyl's muffled voice came from the back. "We checked the gear six times. We have it all."

"If we don't you'll regret it later," grumbled Fenway, starting the RV. "And for the record, I will not be blamed for equipment shortages later." Vinyl made a noise from the back - sounding vaguely like someone blowing a raspberry - before stomping up to ride shotgun.

"You are aware," another voice joined in, "That Vin did actually check - really check - six times?"

"Yes. And?"

"If we're short later," Daynel extracted himself from the lump of fabric pretending to be a couch, "Then she gets the blame. She checked."

"So I wanted to get moving before Tuesday. Sue me." Vinyl complained, scowling back at Dayn, who grinned unashamedly. "And you," she poked Fenway, "Should know better than anyone here the value of puntuality."

"Fenway is never late, Vinyl," Markus, this time, coming up from the bunks. "Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." Grabbing a chair next to Daynel - and breifly wresling with him for the coffee pot - she mumbled something. "Did you actually dragoon Ach into this one, Fen?"

"Tried, failed, blackmailed. He's in, provided that he - in his words - gets first crack at the fucking coffee every morning."

"Fair enough. Dare I ask?" Dayn made a grab for Mark's mug, resulting in another bout of scuffling.

"That kind of defeats the point of blackmail, doesn't it?"

"And the rest of this travelling circus?" Dayn inquired, having lost the battle.

"Ivan's in, too. Mercu, T, and Proto opted out for reasons known and unknown."

"Six is pretty much the limit of this bucket, though." Mark again. "At least we'll be comfy. If cozy."

"Speaking of. Vin, you still bunking with-"

"No. I will not bunk with the old man." Vinyl somehow contrived to look grumpy and adamant simultaneously. "That is non-negotiable."

"The alternative is you bunk with Mark." Fenway cut in. "Dayn and Ivan were oddly adamant about about bunking together."

"Talk about lesser of two evils," muttered Vinyl. "Fine, I'll bunk with the geriatric."

"Wise choice. And," Fen indicated out the window, "Here we are. Someone go and get-" he paused as Ivan strolled out the door, case in hand. "-Ivan. Mark, door?" he inquired/ordered. Opening said door, Mark pulled Ivan up.

"Welcome to hell." Vinyl greeted. "Last chance to bail."

"Aaaand you're stuck. Sorry," Mark cut in, closing the door with a snap. "You've met Dayn?"

"In a manner of speaking." Ivan replied. Dayn rolled his eyes. "Not really the rest of you, though."

"Fenway Ash. United Kingdom. Nuclear physicsist and hobby author."

"Vinyl Stranov. United States. Programmer and ex-infantryman."

"Markus Error. Canada. Astrophysicsist and resident psycho."

"I see," Ivan said, "Ivan Kintobor. Austria. Mathematician and brewer."

"Ach," a gravelly old voice joined them, "Russia. Officer and gentleman."

"Ach. The hell did you get here?" Mark inquired raising an eyebrow at the old man. Ach simply raised his own eyebrow.

"Now. Fenway? I expect both caffinated and sugared compensation for this little excercise of yours." Ach intoned. Fen nodded amiably.

"We're caffinated enough for a small army, don't worry. And given that we've now got a full load, we're off."

"This'll be the death of us all. Remind me again how you dragged us into this?" Vinyl groaned into the dashboard.

0/10 my surname and country of origin are awful.

I feel like I should go edit and give you a male character. Aiming for -10/10 here

Not in it. *fistpump* would kill myself if I had to spend several hours in a car with you people.

If i had to be in a car for more than absolutely necessary, sociopathic carmates or no, I'd attempt a manual override on the window and eject myself at some velocity.

Cleithrophobia is a *. Also, you guys would probably suck to be around in person.

(Shadow, you just signed yourself up for this story. Last chance to throw in your preferred character.)

k.

Ach was doing his usual thing; cleaning his Mosin. Nagant's greatest creation, while unbreakable, still deserved to have a fresh coat of gloss on the wood furniture and to have the bolt cleaned. He had returned with his coffee, though he preferred tea, and was sipping this calmly.

He began to hum as song, gently crooning the words to his rifle as he honed the UN-banned bayonet.

"Расцветали яблони и груши,
Поплыли туманы над рекой.
Выходила на берег Катюша,
На высокий берег на крутой."

His words were not unheeded, as the rifle was soon spotless and ready. He put it on the pre-cleaned rack on the wall, labelled Boris, and picked up the next one in his collection.

I object to OP, Dayn would be the last person to bunk with me.

Character!Dayn and Character!Ivan are not actual!Dayn or actual!Ivan. Fear not, that particular red herring is just that; very fishy, but otherwise harmless.

Commander Error wrote: (Shadow, you just signed yourself up for this story. Last chance to throw in your preferred character.)

What's life without challenge. Make one up heir Commodore.

Aye aye, Shadow sir.

New chapter later today (I hope).

FINE I DIDN'T WANT TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP ANYWAY.

ikr?

dw he's just assembling a list of people he'd like to get gay with so he can cowrite a fapfic with them

I am being held against my will. Help.

I still like how I get to bunk together with "The Chick"