"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Iceblock
Survivor
[ *  * ]
Wayne wasn't really thinking about alcohol too much. He was aware of the food in front of him. He was aware of the booze that Junko had hinted at. He was also aware that if he had an addiction, a more acceptable guilty pleasure, it was video games, not booze. There weren't any here, though, which was probably for the better; this time, he'd escaped somewhere more social.

Granted, it wasn't particularly social by the hot dogs.

Taking a glance back towards the fire, he saw that someone else had arrived. Raina. He'd heard her name once or twice. She wasn't in his year, either, but she was distinguishable, hair and all. Not someone too easily forgotten.

His attention went back to the cooler, and the many hot dogs stacked on top of each other inside. Grilling them would give him something to do. The only question left was how to do it - and if he was feeling particularly honest with himself, he'd never had much motivation to learn how to cook. Maybe he'd ask Eve to teach him a few recipes the next time she wasn't burnt out from work. Maybe not. Anyway, it couldn't be hard. Nothing to panic or worry over. There had to be a public grill around here, and he could just add some charcoal or some gas or something-

Hold on. He was being an idiot.

"Hey!" he said, voice carrying over towards the others and the very obvious campfire. "You have anything to skewer these hot dogs on, or should I just grab a stick?"
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I Know What My Fortune Is · After the Dance