this is the part where prison is more or less dave and busters

[saklas]

Passengers: Everyone who wants to come see what the weird vending machine is about for the first time it is open to them! This is an open mingle/party style log.
Location: "a corner," the location of the Commissary
Date: February 1 - 7 on year one of our cool and sexy journey
Summary: 14 space idiots squint at the ATM that can supposedly make elk meat and clown shoes for them
Warnings: Will add as needed! I'm 90% sure someone's going to ask for drugs or blades, just as a weather forecast

Comments

[saklas]

Thanks, they're from a museum!

[Volk makes a little 'ohh, too bad' pout. This is his The Worst Customer This Restaurant Has Ever Had voice. That jab about friends was designed to hit in the softest spot he could find.]

I was trying to get the machine to admit it couldn't do something.

[smugreport]

[ He's all on the defense now, his voice inflections and bodylanguage no longer showing some measure of camaraderie.

Instead he crosses his arms, keeps up the tone Volk has set. ]

What, like, "find me the ugliest pair of slip ons in the universe?"

[saklas]

No. It couldn't give me what I asked for, because there's only one of them. These are fake.

[Volk's smile is mean.]

What do you think that means for Wardens who are counting on being paid at the end of this?

[smugreport]

[ So, no apology? /breaks his phone and skateboard

Mean smiles were a dime a dozen on Helios, Rhys is Immune. He gives the shoes another look, scrutinizing for a moment before they're back to Volk's face. ]

How can you tell?

[ Was there branding he wasn't seeing? A knock-off logo on the sole? ]

That they'll get bootleg versions of their favorite brand of shoes?

[ He tilts his head, brows raised. Laugh. ]

Some of them don't even ask for physical stuff, just like...a concept. I've guessed for a while that they're all getting scammed.

[saklas]

Because it's foam. The real one is rubies and diamonds.

[Volk kicks a wall. It doesn't scratch or click, there's just a soft foamy lack of sound.]

Nobody cares what you guessed. It's about what I can prove. Are you done trying to scam me out of a fucking ticket instead of just asking for one like we're equals?

[It's why he'd come out swinging. Rhys is like, person number three to go around begging and borrowing. No apology.]

[smugreport]

[ "Scamming" is such an ugly word. Con artists (filthy horrible con artists with red hair streaks) scam, Rhys barters. He makes deals. ]

I was getting to that, I just wanted to catch up first.

[ Liar!!! ]

So, what do you want for one?

[saklas]

You don't care what I've been up to. I don't even care what I've been up to.

[Volk spreads his hands.]

I'm out. You still want to talk?

[Neither of them want to talk, Rhys. Take the out.]

[smugreport]

[ Rhys's shoulders sag at that information. All he wants is a new shirt....down from the 8 he arrived with to seven....one less option in his mixing and matching. Volks tickets could have helped him instead of being spent on stupid foam shoes. Cruel, cruel world.

But! He actually does still want to talk, cause he saw something that made him curious. ]

What's that?

[ He motions to the foam in the shape of paper in Volk's hand. What else did he waste tickets on? ]

[saklas]

Another test, I tried to get it to do documents. Nothing like what I asked for at all. It didn't even try.

[smugreport]

...Okay.

[ Genuinely no idea what he's trying to prove here. ]

So what is it?

[saklas]

It's a packing slip for this thing I ordered.

[Volk hides his hand behind the paper and then reveals it, now with the middle finger extended.]

Limited edition.

[smugreport]

Fuck off dude, we're on the same side here.

[ You can trust in him, is what he's saying! For now, at least.
He reaches out and (gently!) pushes Volk's hand aside.]

What are you even trying to prove here? If they gave you an accurate "packing slip" then what?

[saklas]

We're not! I'm on my side, you're on your side, and everyone else is on their own fucking side!

[He yanks it away.]

This is personal. I asked for something and they're trying to fuck with my head.

[smugreport]

Look I'm the last guy that's into the ideas of a temporary alliance...

[ The last couple times he's done it it has gone very, very poorly for him! He really shouldn't be extending this olive branch, but stubborn as he is he's started to clue in that he's not going to get far alone here.

He moves his outstretched hand away to gesture at their environment. ]

But you're not gonna get far by yourself here. All you've gotten is foam shoes and a foam piece of paper. You work with me, you're going to get at least a little further than that.

[ And if Rhys had the self awareness to realize just who he's sounding like right now he give himself some pause. But that trauma is staying in its shallow grave for at least another day. ]

[saklas]

It's personal, [Volk pleads.

He's, not ready. Not ready. He really, barely thinks he's got the juice to keep fighting this, though.]

[smugreport]

[ Thankfully for Volk Rhys doesn't care enough to fight this much longer.]

Okay, fine. You better not be holding out on me man. If that's something to do with you know what, I wanna know.

[saklas]

I straight up "don't know" what, Rhys. It's just news from home.

[smugreport]

Yeah it...it better be. Whatever.

[ Why is he threatening him lol...he means escape plans Volk! You know what he's talking about don't play dumb. ]

Enjoy your foam shoes and shopping receipt.