Hello all and welcome to another The Loud House fan fiction. I hope you enjoy it and feel compelled to continue reading as the story continues.
* The Loud House is owned by Nickelodeon.
* I do not claim ownership of it.
Warning: This fan fiction contains strong language as well as possible future references to substance abuse and sexual conduct. This fan fiction will NOT feature any form of pedophilia or underage sex.
Note: I do not mind negative feedback.
Chapter 3: The Packing Continues
On the outskirts of the original Loud House's backyard, the old Moon Goats tour bus sat like a rock 'n' roll relic of a bygone age. Weathered, dented, and painted with fading flames and stars, it now doubled as a home for part of the Loud-Sharp family — Luna, Sam, and their adopted daughter Allie. And right now they were less 'outdoor adventure prep' and more 'backstage chaos.'
"Do we have to go?" Allie mumbled, face-down in her pillow. "There are ticks. And weird smells. And Lemy."
Across the bus, Luna sat untangling a mess of audio cables with an unusual mix of focus and frustration. "I mean, yeah… valid. But still, c'mon dudette, nature's not so bad. It's like… unplugged. Literal edition," She said dropping the now even more tangled bundle of cables in defeat. "Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't we find you living out of a dumpster?"
"Yeah. But at least the dumpster didn't have Lemy." Allie turned away, muttering under her breath.
Overhearing the conversation, Sam leaned out from the kitchenette with a roll of paper towels and her best brave face. "We're gonna make it work. We survived 'Fyre Festival 3: Still Not Refundable.' A couple trees won't scare us."
Luna tapped her chin in thought. "Y'know, that name really should've been a giveaway."
Down by the bus steps Lemy was busy running through his camping gear. "Sleeping bag? Check. Swim trunks? Check. M-80? Triple check."
"You're not bringing firecrackers!" Sam shouted from inside.
"What!? Why not!?" Lemy argued.
"Because we banned them after the last time!" She shot back just as Lyra stepped out the Loud House's back door.
"Okay." Lyra announced. "I finished making our packing list. I've divided it into essentials, non-essentials, and Lemy's stuff — which is basically just everything we're leaving at home." She said as she walked over and showed them the list.
Luna picked up her battered acoustic guitar and strummed a few quiet notes. "Y'know, some of my best memories are out in the woods. I wrote my first real song under a tarp in the rain — no food, busted flashlight."
"Bullshit." Sam muttered.
"What was that, babe?" Luna asked.
"Nothing." Sam replied in a fake singsong voice.
By mid-afternoon, Sam was stuffing sleeping bags into black bags, Lyra was barking out orders, and Lemy was slipping fireworks into an old tin lunchbox with cartoonish stealth.
To be continued...