【 #tulparscaptain; a semi-lit, semi-parody museblog for captain curly from wrong organ's 2024 indie horror, mouthwashing. established october 27th, 2024. by m. affiliated with @worlds-least-responsible. 】
They hadn't shared many words up until that point. The ride had gone fairly smoothly, yes. Jimmy always kept his window slightly rolled down to catch the breeze, too busy staring off into.. Something to start up conversation.
Thinking on it, he wasn't really sure why he agreed to this. Camping had never been a big interest of his- when he thought of what a nice trip should be like he didn't really think of tents and fire. While he was briefly aware of Curly's interest in it, to be quite frank, he hadn't really given it any thought until being personally invited to it.
He could've said that it would be a waste of time and immediately turned down the offer. He would watch as Curly's expression twisted into disappointment, sighing as he turned away with a dejected gaze looking into oblivion. Yes, he could've done that.
But for some reason, he had actually accepted it.
Maybe it was his life that was too boring, doing the same routine everyday, trying to keep everything together in a rather futile attempt. Maybe it was Curly himself, who had never even invited him to it prior to this moment. A part of him felt a little wounded he hadn't considered calling him for this before. He felt a twinge of satisfaction- maybe if he took a true liking to this camping stuff, he could also go on camping trips. By himself. Without Curly. And then tell him all about the wonderful moments he had! Alone.
Hell, he could actually say he was in a fairly good mood right now!
.. So when they finally finish setting their stuff down, and Jimmy looks toward the blond, the brief smile on his face fades into annoyance.
Is Curly really that easy to read? He hasn't even thought of what to say. How to break the news - in his wary trek back from the car, he'd picked his brain for an eloquent way to put that he's essentially forgotten half of their camping supplies. But, it seems all that fret was for nothing.
Jimmy almost comes across as telepathic; and so, so on the money that Curly considers pulling out his wallet. Not like that would do much good. There's nothing to buy for miles, and it would be just like Jim to take that as some kind of insultive bribe.
Instead he offers something worth more than fifty bucks - his award winning smile. Strained from the tension, but hopefully still conveying that this incident is only a minor hiccup. Something, quite silly, really.
“ I don't know what I was thinking. ” He says, with the tone someone might have if they'd come home to realize they'd left the stove on.
He'd been thinking about all the things he and Jimmy would get to do out here. But in all those activities - a tent and mallet had never been absent. So it baffles him why they aren't present, now. It truly baffles him....
Jim... I know this is hard to hear... but I'm retiring. Today, on April First, you will be the respective and responsible leader of the Pony Express Long Haul Space Freighter, Tulpar.
This means nothing to me because it is no longer April First.
When Curly had packed for the trip, he'd taken everything that he knew off the top of his head.
He'd gone on so many excursions over the years - that grabbing what he needed felt like second nature, to him. He'd worked his way down a mental checklist like many times before. From the time he'd gone with his brothers, to the times he'd gone with his friends, to the seldom times he'd gone it alone. Camping wasn't the most complex thing in the world. You had to pick a nice spot, a nice time, and make sure that you wouldn't spend your evening staving off hunger by chewing on sticks. You had to make sure you hadn't settled on the edge of a cliff on a windy day.
Curly knew exactly where he wanted to take Jimmy, from the moment the guy agreed to come. A small feat in of itself; he'd been pleasantly surprised when the other had actually accepted the offer to spend the night in the woods with him. He'd never really thought about it before. Thought about, inviting Jimmy, before. He'd gone camping multiple times with some of the guys, but Jimmy was absent for all of these trips. Looking back, he'd hardly ever noticed, too - the good times being entirely vacant of any Jimmy-shaped figure. What kind of a friend was he? To never pass on an invitation to someone he'd known for so long. He'd make up for lost memories by making new ones. And to his pleasant surprise, working up the nerve to ask had paid off. They were really going to go camping together.
The blond can remember the warm feeling of loading each bag into the car, a kind of feeling that only came with preparing for a time well spent with a good friend. He felt a sense of anticipation, optomistic for the first trip together to mark a future of many trips together. They'd roast sausages over a traditional fire [his dad always talked about how you could never get an authentic camping experience from any of those portable firepit kits - you needed real kindling, smoke from your own hands.] And maybe do a tiny bit of fishing... The spot he liked had running water that could probably give them a catch or two. In Curly's mind, it was perfect. He knew what he was doing and he was certain that no problem could arise under his careful orchestration of a fun outing.
The ride goes fine - he drives, there's minimal traffic, and when they get there no one else had obtained the spot that he'd decided on.
Which in Curly's mind, makes the payoff all the more sweeter. He wouldn't have minded settling down elsewhere, but he really likes this particular stretch of dirt. It gives you enough shade from the trees without giving the ticks any leeway to make you an easy victim. That's not all, of course. It has sentimental value to it. Value that would be a bit embarassing to explain to Jimmy, if someone had already beat them to it. Luckily, there's no one around. It will just be them.
He parks off to the side of the path, a trek away from the actual campsite. This is routine - and only when he steps out of the drivers seat, does he consider the fact that he should have told Jimmy why. But... He isn't flashed any questioning look. The guy just slinks to the back of the car as he does, and Curly shows him how to pop the trunk.
They both grab a bag, and something loose that they can carry. For Curly, it's a bag and then the cooler, and for Jimmy... Well... Curly thinks he sees him slide a folding chair or two into his arm. How helpful!
The blond turns, making his way to the campsite with that same anticipation and enthusiasm he'd felt when first planning the trip. The feeling you get when it all falls into place... He can't stop smiling to himself as he sets his bag down on the sandy dirt beneath their feet, cooler planted firmly alongside it. Then he makes sure to help Jimmy unpack the stuff from his bag first. He lets Jim unfold the two chairs while he sorts everything into place. It's mainly loose things - stuff for the campfire, stuff for the food in the cooler, stuff for their trash because Curly likes to keep the ground as he had found it. Curly makes sure that they'll be ready to have the fire going by nightfall, before he decides to go ahead and grab what little else there was in the car.
This is when a problem arose.
The problem arose, when he made the small trek back to his car, on his own. Ready to grab the remaining bag and close the hood of the trunk for good - Curly realizes.
There is no third bag.
Whatever enthusiasm and anticipation he's been feeling, deflates from his body instantaneously. A cold spike pierces his heart, and he can't help but blink, as if his eyes are deceiving him. Tricking him. Surely?
He always packed three bags when going on a camping trip. His dad had taught him so. It was routine. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind that he had packed the bag, the third bag, and placed it in the car in a trio. There wasn't a doubt that he had made sure, with his mental checklist, that three bags were there. Yet there was no way that either of them had taken an extra bag back to the campsite. They'd only taken one trip, and both had grabbed one bag. So... Where the hell was the third?
Checking once, twice, and then thrice - fails to make the bag magically manifest into the trunk of his car. Try as he might, wish as he may... Cold reality is the only thing to greets him when he opens his eyes.
Curly had forgotten their tents.
Or, more specificially, the bag that contained their tents.
The bag contained more than that; it held everything that went with a tent in the woods. The stakes, the mallet, the tarp, the lanterns... And especially their sleeping bags. Which they would surely need to prevent any unwanted interactions with the various insects that no doubt scuttle about in the grass. He doesn't believe that it will get particularly cold tonight, so that's a relief. Not like they'll freeze to death in the night's chill... Just be inconvenienced by the insects and exposure.
He hopes Jimmy will see it that way, too.
An inconvenience. Nothing more.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Curly slams the lid of the trunk, and makes his way back before it seems like he's been gone for too long.
【 @worlds-least-responsible : It's okay Curly I forgive you entirely for forgetting our tents, Jimmy said, Jimmy mouthwashingly, 】
Jim... I know this is hard to hear... but I'm retiring. Today, on April First, you will be the respective and responsible leader of the Pony Express Long Haul Space Freighter, Tulpar.
This means nothing to me because it is no longer April First.
This image is funny. The box is filled with an unusual amount of mouthwash, and the text in the middle says "water", despite the fact that mouthwash is an oral rinse. Ha! You don't see that every day.
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