Saturday? I heard of this place called Nashville Bowling Center Apparently they have an arcade and everything
( Will that be enough to offset the fact that they only play country music for Eddie? Only one way to find out. Not that she knows this either, but forecasts predict it will probably come up... )
[ Saturday comes and Eddie drives the distance to the agreed upon meeting place for his scheduled ass kicking.
He thinks? Because he walks in, gets smacked right in the face by a loud snippet of country music, then immediately turns on his heel to walk back out the door again. He squints up at the flickering neon sign and huffs, knowing that the words Nashville Bowling Center mean he is unfortunately in the right place.
Begrudgingly, he trudges back inside, practically wincing at the assault on his ears and praying that the southern drawls and euphemisms about trucks end soon. It’s all bad enough to make him yearn for the Bellamy Brothers. ]
I already told you I was a shitty bowler. You didn’t have to set me up like this.
[ He approaches Laura while gesturing vaguely to the ceiling where the speakers are placed, then clutches his chest and flops dramatically onto one of the cracked pleather benches. Another county song begins, and he groans loudly. ]
This is hell. This is my own, personal, eternal hell.
( And there he is. Nice to see him in a setting that's intentional this time, not a random chance encounter on the side of the road. Especially nice now that she's got her bearings, and she's not inherently wary of anyone and everyone around her all the time. Just... you know. Most of the time.
He seems fine, though.
Takes her a second to realize what he's talking (and swooning) about, but eventually her eyes lift up to one of the shitty, crackling speakers affixed to a slightly dirty ceiling title. Her lips quirk up a little — very I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you, but actually I'm kind of laughing at you a little. )
( She jerks her head toward a really impatient looking middle-aged woman behind a pane of glass, staring at them expectantly, waiting for an excuse to accuse the Youths of Loitering unless they Spend Money Now, Thanks Capitalism. )
[ But he pauses, tilts his head and narrows his eyes, daring to listen a bit closer, and he grimaces as George Strait proceeds to explain why he lives in Tennessee beneath the twangy backdrop of a fiddle and pedal steel guitar. ]
But, uh, sounds like the common denominator here is him, so maybe he ought to stay in Tennessee.
[ He follows Laura’s gesture to the woman behind the glass, then merely grins and wiggles his fingers at her in a wave. She doesn’t look impressed and with a flat expression, merely taps a sign taped to the glass, indicating that loiterers will be removed from the premises. Spend money or leave, basically. ]
Jesus. Tough crowd. Alright.
[ He heaves a sigh and pulls himself upright once more. ]
What first?
the way i got absolutely no notification for this tag and only found it bc i was rereading
( He makes a very valid point about mister Strait's track record — it sounds like Texas doesn't deserve his bullshit, and neither do his exes. She huffs out a soft sound, the breath of a laugh. It dies pretty quickly in the face of the less than enthusiastic overseer of their monetarily-derived fun.
Just to make sure she doesn't get any bright ideas about kicking them out, Laura deliberately reaches into her back pocket, pulls out a crumpled bill, and holds it up pointedly. The woman purses her lips, but reclines back in her chair, momentarily mollified. )
Maybe we start with that one game I'm probably gonna suck at to get your spirits up, so I can crush them harder later?
( You know, really build him up so the fall is higher. )
[ He presses a hand to his chest, mock hurt on his face. ]
It sounds like you have absolutely no faith in me which, to be totally honest with you, are pretty good expectations.
[ He has no faith in his own bowling abilities either, as he’s made perfectly clear, but he does know his way around an arcade. Waving to the woman behind the glass once more in the most annoying way possible, he glides right toward the collection of game cabinets. A slice of heaven in a sad, sad hell that only plays country music. He makes a beeline toward one in particular. ]
This—
[ He slams a hand (gently!) down onto the top of one of the cabinets, black with bright blue and green accents and illustrations of what appear to be alien insects and scorpions. ]
Is Galaga.
[ To be totally fair, Galaga isn’t exactly the paramount of arcade games, but it’s always a fun one and Eddie racked up a lot of hours defending his high score from middle schoolers. And he’s genuinely not willing to risk Laura beating his high score at Dragon’s Lair despite how he keeps eying that very game in the corner. Galaga is fine. ]
Your mission is simple. Should you choose to accept it, that is. Alien bugs from outer space called Galagans. You’ve gotta defend earth and shoot them down before they shoot you down. And, uh, try not to shoot your own fighter if they capture it.
( His self-deprecation earns him a soft, rare little laugh. Maybe it's just that she doesn't spend a lot of time with people who have a sense of humor — maybe it's that she hasn't spent time with someone her own age since her timeline got erased. Whatever the case, there's something incredibly disarming about how easy this interaction is. How light. How totally not fraught, how totally not loaded down with a bunch of weird shit or bad history. It's a fucking novelty, actually. She kind of digs it.
She trails after him, unapologetic amusement all over her features after that insouciant little wave.
Galaga. Not Galactiga. Boy, she butchered that one earlier, didn't she?
Anyway, here we go. Pay attention, Laura. This is the most important battle of your life, for at least the next twenty minutes, at which point bowling will become the most important battle of her life. )
You should go first. Show me how it's done.
( She learns by watching. Plus, she wants to fuck with him a little so he does worse. Set the bar lower, you know. )
[ Grinning, he steps lightly around her to take his place at the machine, feeds a coupe coins into the slot, and silently thanks the universe that inflation doesn’t seem to apply here. He would have paid the equivalent back home. ]
Alright.
[ He cracks his knuckles, shakes out his hands, and peeks over his shoulder. ]
Watch and learn. I’m only gonna do this once.
[ He selects the 1 Player option, lights flash, and those obnoxious high pitched old school arcade sounds begin as he puts in a damn near expert game, mouth set in a line as he locks in. He does an admirable job, topping off with a score just over 80k, just enough to enter his name on the lower end of the high score table.
He tilts into another one o those ridiculous bows and steps away with a flourishing gesture toward the machine. ]
I’ve done better, but uh…still wanna give it a shot?
( If she sounds nonchalant, it's only because he made it look so easy. Effortless, really, the way he maneuvered this whole thing. Just exactly how much skill he's got is made apparent when she takes up her spot behind the wheel, starts to drive, and —
Dies in about forty seconds.
She stares at the screen, lips pressed into a thin line, squinting unhappily in a way that suggests she's deeply considering punching it. That would, unfortunately, almost certainly break it, which seems like a dick move, but... the temptation is real.
At length, she says: )
If you tell anyone I lost that fast I'll fight you in the streets.
[ He does his best to not hover, but he still ends up hovering anyway, standing on the tips of his toes and craning his neck to peer over her shoulder without getting too close. Laura can’t see it, but she might be able to feel his judgment and the way he physically cringes at some of the choices she makes.
It’s fine! Not everyone is an arcade master, and he’s quick to replace his grimace with a self-satisfied smile by the time she turns around. ]
Wouldn’t dream of it.
[ He holds up his hands defensively and backs away a step or two. He can buy that she legitimately would fight him in the streets. And win. ]
But, uh, I have seen worse, if it's any consolation.
( She agrees skeptically, doubtful. She was pretty bad. Not die in the first thirty seconds bad, but she's clearly got no instinct for video games.
Rather than feebly standing here letting him mop up her ego, she gives his shoulder a light shove and jerks her head toward the grumpy lady in the booth. )
Come on. Let's pay money to wear other people's shoes so I can kick your ass in them.
( Still a bold proclamation, but throwing something heavy to knock a bunch of shit over seems way more in her wheelhouse. She'll even dig out enough money to cover them both for the first round. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Text From: 678 – 9829
You're still alive, right?
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yep
still in one piece
i'm gonna take a wild guess and say you're not messaging me from beyond the grave yourself
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Still kicking. Technically.
Wanna go bowling?
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though i have to warn you
i'm pretty amazing
...ly bad
should be an easy win for you
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But yeah I'll probably still kick your ass
Glad we're establishing that early
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now i actually have to make a real effort
so where and when is this ass kicking scheduled to take place???
[ He's clearly already accepted his fate. He is not a sportsman, and that includes bowling. ]
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I heard of this place called Nashville Bowling Center
Apparently they have an arcade and everything
( Will that be enough to offset the fact that they only play country music for Eddie? Only one way to find out. Not that she knows this either, but forecasts predict it will probably come up... )
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i have now
[ It won't be enough...he'll be complaining all night. But it will help. He's from 1986; he loves an arcade. ]
which raises the question
have you ever been to an arcade?
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ok
yeah
you're playing a game of galaga
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That sounds like a made up word.
I feel like you're screwing with me.
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You take this stuff pretty seriously, huh?
Alright, I'll play galactiga.
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yeah
it's serious shit
i'd say dragon's lair but i honestly might kill myself if you were better than me at that one
so
i'm not taking any chances
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Okay, then.
It's a deal.
Bowling. Arcade. Ass kicking.
See you Saturday (:
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He thinks? Because he walks in, gets smacked right in the face by a loud snippet of country music, then immediately turns on his heel to walk back out the door again. He squints up at the flickering neon sign and huffs, knowing that the words Nashville Bowling Center mean he is unfortunately in the right place.
Begrudgingly, he trudges back inside, practically wincing at the assault on his ears and praying that the southern drawls and euphemisms about trucks end soon. It’s all bad enough to make him yearn for the Bellamy Brothers. ]
I already told you I was a shitty bowler. You didn’t have to set me up like this.
[ He approaches Laura while gesturing vaguely to the ceiling where the speakers are placed, then clutches his chest and flops dramatically onto one of the cracked pleather benches. Another county song begins, and he groans loudly. ]
This is hell. This is my own, personal, eternal hell.
no subject
He seems fine, though.
Takes her a second to realize what he's talking (and swooning) about, but eventually her eyes lift up to one of the shitty, crackling speakers affixed to a slightly dirty ceiling title. Her lips quirk up a little — very I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you, but actually I'm kind of laughing at you a little. )
What, you're not a fan? Personally, I'm really invested in the narrative of all this guy's exes living in Texas.
( She jerks her head toward a really impatient looking middle-aged woman behind a pane of glass, staring at them expectantly, waiting for an excuse to accuse the Youths of Loitering unless they Spend Money Now, Thanks Capitalism. )
Come on.
no subject
[ But he pauses, tilts his head and narrows his eyes, daring to listen a bit closer, and he grimaces as George Strait proceeds to explain why he lives in Tennessee beneath the twangy backdrop of a fiddle and pedal steel guitar. ]
But, uh, sounds like the common denominator here is him, so maybe he ought to stay in Tennessee.
[ He follows Laura’s gesture to the woman behind the glass, then merely grins and wiggles his fingers at her in a wave. She doesn’t look impressed and with a flat expression, merely taps a sign taped to the glass, indicating that loiterers will be removed from the premises. Spend money or leave, basically. ]
Jesus. Tough crowd. Alright.
[ He heaves a sigh and pulls himself upright once more. ]
What first?
the way i got absolutely no notification for this tag and only found it bc i was rereading
Just to make sure she doesn't get any bright ideas about kicking them out, Laura deliberately reaches into her back pocket, pulls out a crumpled bill, and holds it up pointedly. The woman purses her lips, but reclines back in her chair, momentarily mollified. )
Maybe we start with that one game I'm probably gonna suck at to get your spirits up, so I can crush them harder later?
( You know, really build him up so the fall is higher. )
dw please....
[ He presses a hand to his chest, mock hurt on his face. ]
It sounds like you have absolutely no faith in me which, to be totally honest with you, are pretty good expectations.
[ He has no faith in his own bowling abilities either, as he’s made perfectly clear, but he does know his way around an arcade. Waving to the woman behind the glass once more in the most annoying way possible, he glides right toward the collection of game cabinets. A slice of heaven in a sad, sad hell that only plays country music. He makes a beeline toward one in particular. ]
This—
[ He slams a hand (gently!) down onto the top of one of the cabinets, black with bright blue and green accents and illustrations of what appear to be alien insects and scorpions. ]
Is Galaga.
[ To be totally fair, Galaga isn’t exactly the paramount of arcade games, but it’s always a fun one and Eddie racked up a lot of hours defending his high score from middle schoolers. And he’s genuinely not willing to risk Laura beating his high score at Dragon’s Lair despite how he keeps eying that very game in the corner. Galaga is fine. ]
Your mission is simple. Should you choose to accept it, that is. Alien bugs from outer space called Galagans. You’ve gotta defend earth and shoot them down before they shoot you down. And, uh, try not to shoot your own fighter if they capture it.
no subject
She trails after him, unapologetic amusement all over her features after that insouciant little wave.
Galaga. Not Galactiga. Boy, she butchered that one earlier, didn't she?
Anyway, here we go. Pay attention, Laura. This is the most important battle of your life, for at least the next twenty minutes, at which point bowling will become the most important battle of her life. )
You should go first. Show me how it's done.
( She learns by watching. Plus, she wants to fuck with him a little so he does worse. Set the bar lower, you know. )
no subject
[ Grinning, he steps lightly around her to take his place at the machine, feeds a coupe coins into the slot, and silently thanks the universe that inflation doesn’t seem to apply here. He would have paid the equivalent back home. ]
Alright.
[ He cracks his knuckles, shakes out his hands, and peeks over his shoulder. ]
Watch and learn. I’m only gonna do this once.
[ He selects the 1 Player option, lights flash, and those obnoxious high pitched old school arcade sounds begin as he puts in a damn near expert game, mouth set in a line as he locks in. He does an admirable job, topping off with a score just over 80k, just enough to enter his name on the lower end of the high score table.
He tilts into another one o those ridiculous bows and steps away with a flourishing gesture toward the machine. ]
I’ve done better, but uh…still wanna give it a shot?
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( If she sounds nonchalant, it's only because he made it look so easy. Effortless, really, the way he maneuvered this whole thing. Just exactly how much skill he's got is made apparent when she takes up her spot behind the wheel, starts to drive, and —
Dies in about forty seconds.
She stares at the screen, lips pressed into a thin line, squinting unhappily in a way that suggests she's deeply considering punching it. That would, unfortunately, almost certainly break it, which seems like a dick move, but... the temptation is real.
At length, she says: )
If you tell anyone I lost that fast I'll fight you in the streets.
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It’s fine! Not everyone is an arcade master, and he’s quick to replace his grimace with a self-satisfied smile by the time she turns around. ]
Wouldn’t dream of it.
[ He holds up his hands defensively and backs away a step or two. He can buy that she legitimately would fight him in the streets. And win. ]
But, uh, I have seen worse, if it's any consolation.
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( She agrees skeptically, doubtful. She was pretty bad. Not die in the first thirty seconds bad, but she's clearly got no instinct for video games.
Rather than feebly standing here letting him mop up her ego, she gives his shoulder a light shove and jerks her head toward the grumpy lady in the booth. )
Come on. Let's pay money to wear other people's shoes so I can kick your ass in them.
( Still a bold proclamation, but throwing something heavy to knock a bunch of shit over seems way more in her wheelhouse. She'll even dig out enough money to cover them both for the first round. )
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🎀 lmao i think we can fade to black around here? extremely successful bowling trip.