fh_trips | Los Angeles, California, 1978 (Sunday, February 22nd)

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spring break 2015: love boat

Los Angeles, California, 1978 (Sunday, February 22nd)

The first sign that things weren't exactly right was the Hollywood sign: not exactly the tourist trap-y mandatory photo it was back in 2015. The next was the outfits of the other passengers: there's a lot of polyester. Like a lot. No one's worn hair this terrible unironically in decades ~~other than Anakin~~. And that's when it dawned: this might be Los Angeles, and the school was definitely about to go on a cruise along the Mexican coast...but it wasn't in 2015.

Not at all groovy, man. And the worst part? You can't even Instagram the photographic evidence! All electronics have stopped receiving signals, too. Portalocity went hardcore this time. There's a little bit of time to explore where and when you've been dropped off before the ship disembarked, but not enough time to return to the island.

Welcome to Spring Break ~~2015~~ 1978, everyone!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't know if phrasing it that way would win me any points," Travis said thoughtfully. "Might get me punched in the nose."

Ezra snickered.

"What kind of people were you kissing, exactly? I don't think I said anything that should get you punched as long as you were polite."

"I think phrasing it as 'can I kiss you for practice?' might be a little...I don't know, maybe make them feel disrespected," Travis explained.

"I wouldn't." Hint, hint. But of course, Ezra was getting to be notoriously easy. "So you would just need to find the people who find that kind of thing fun."

"You wouldn't?" Yeah, even Travis was smart enough to pick up on that. "And let me guess, you would be that kind of people, right?"

Ezra held his chin up mock proudly. Although there may have been some misplaced genuine pride there too.

"Of course I am."

"I don't know if I'm really the person you want to practice with," Travis pointed out. "I've only kissed girls before."

Ezra held up a finger. "One, I don't need practice." Let's get that clear right now. He was a pro. He was also following his earlier mock pride with some equally fake indignation, there.

He held up a second finger. "Two, do you really think there's that much of a difference? Unless, of course, you're only interested in girls. At that point, there's a pretty obvious difference."

"Wow, you're a defensive one," Travis said, snickering, holding up two hands. "Didn't mean to offend you or anything. I'm sure your reputation is safe and sound."

Not that many people were paying that much attention.

"And I'd think there'd be a difference. Different types of lips, different smells, that kind of thing."

"Well yes," Ezra replied, dropping his hand and taking a sip from his drink instead. "But those are individual differences. The basic idea remains the same."

He waved his hand vaguely.

"So, you're probably the saddest person now that the island's not being so...strange," Travis remarked. Though he was getting the impression that Ezra didn't need pollen to want to kiss everyone.

He also didn't need pollen to think everyone wanted to kiss him, no.

"Yes, it's breaking my heart," he said, holding his hand against his chest now. Then he shrugged. "But the late seventies fashion here is mending it somewhat. Because it's hilarious."

"I really hope we're not gonna have to dress like this to blend in or something," Travis said, making a face. "I don't think I'd look good in pants like that."

"And hiding away in your cabin for that reason would not make for a very good vacation," Ezra noted, watching someone pass by in a pair of particularly fashionable pants. "I would only submit to blending in here if I wanted to sneak away from this all without being seen."

"That something you think you'll have to do?" Travis wondered.

Ezra shrugged.

"If it'll make things more interesting."

"And how would dressing up and blending in to sneak away be interesting?" he wondered. "Those pants look scratchy."

Ezra gave him a look like he was genuinely adorable for not keeping up with his train of thought there.

"It's the part where I get to where I'm sneaking away to that's supposed to be interesting, not the pants. The pants are just a means of getting there. A necessary evil, if you will."

Because those things did look scratchy. And hideous.

"Yeah, but..."

Travis glanced around.

"Where would you be sneaking to?" That was Travis's question. "Someone's room? Pretty sure no one would care unless it was a teacher or something."

"I was thinking of something when we get on dry land again," Ezra mused. "But," he admitted, "now that I think about it, I doubt anyone's going to be keeping that close an eye on us, anyway."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that unless you set something on fire or sink the ship, you won't need to sneak," Travis told him. "Doesn't mean you can't though if it makes you happy. Besides, it'd be funny to see someone in clothes like that."

"I could be persuaded to be entertaining like that," Ezra replied with a fake thoughtful look towards the ceiling. "But only if the incentive was good enough."

"And what's a good incentive for you to get into clothes like that?" Travis figured it had to be something damn good.

"Oh, at least a good dinner."

Probably more than that, though. He liked looking good, and the clothes currently around them? Did not look good.

"I can buy you a drink," Travis offered. "Someone else is gonna have to go for dinner for you though. I'm not that invested in seeing you in those clothes."

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