[ 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. Itās all bad enough to make him yearn for the Bellamy Brothers. ]
I already told you I was a shitty bowler. You didnāt 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 ā 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 Lauraās gesture to the woman behind the glass, then merely grins and wiggles his fingers at her in a wave. She doesnāt 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 ā 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 heās 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. ]
Thisā
[ 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 isnāt exactly the paramount of arcade games, but itās always a fun one and Eddie racked up a lot of hours defending his high score from middle schoolers. And heās genuinely not willing to risk Laura beating his high score at Dragonās 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. Youāve 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 ā 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 doesnāt 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. Iām 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. ]
Iāve done better, but uhā¦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 ā
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 canāt see it, but she might be able to feel his judgment and the way he physically cringes at some of the choices she makes.
Itās fine! Not everyone is an arcade master, and heās quick to replace his grimace with a self-satisfied smile by the time she turns around. ]
Wouldnāt 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. )
Nah, man, Iām serious. Iāve seen some pretty abysmal eight year olds in my time.
[ Punctuated with a grin and a tilt of his head, because he feels comfortable talking a little shit if Laura is willing to critique her own gameplayā¦which was genuinely really badā¦Besides! Heās well aware that his bowling score is going to be even worse, so theyāre on even ground here. ]
Hey, Iām not arguing.
[ Hands behind his back, he tilts at he woman behind he counts again as they pass, following after Laura to collect their borrowed shoes. ]
Just, uh, donāt try to literally take me out with a fourteen pounder, ākay?
( Eight year olds earns him a flat look ā okay, jerk. Keep trash-talking. Soon they'll be even. )
I make no promises.
( She has her pride to recover, after all.
They pick their shoes. Pick a lane. She takes her time swapping out her chucks for the battered brown ugly lane shoes, and while she's still working at the laces, jerks her head toward the pins. )
You go ahead, let me watch. Keep it consistent, right? I've never done this, either.
( Definitely not because victory will taste sweeter if she goes second. )
[ Eddie being who he is doesnāt even swap his shoes out. He peers over his shoulder to be sure the woman behind the glass is satisfied now that theyāve paid. When heās satisfied she isnāt looking, he deposits the ugly brown bowling shoes on the bench and doesnāt even attempt to untie his battered docs. Lane shoes are supposedly for the bowlerās own safety, but itās not like theyāve ever helped him.
Keep it consistent. He snorts, looking highly doubtful, but he nods. ]
I mean, I make no promises, but alright. Just, uhā¦watch out.
[ Sheās absolutely about to sweep him in this one, but heās willing to put in his best attempt simply because sheās never played before. If heās lucky, very lucky, sheāll be even worse than he is. But he already knows that isnāt the case.
He selects his ball and approaches the line, rolls his arm back and lets the ball go. He doesnāt lose his grip on it or accidentally send it flying backward, thank god, but it drifts to the left as it rolls down the lane, only knocking own a single pin when it reaches the end. He squints and grimaces. ]
I meanā¦not even gonna lie to you, thatās kind of better than my usual.
( As tempting as it is to follow his lead and skip the bowling shoes for her chucks, she's here for the full experience. That means figuring out what the deal is with the weird ugly brown shoes, too. It's the little details about this that fascinate her; it's all so silly and alien as a concept. She may or may not be tempted to smuggle these shoes away in her bag when they leave ā not to wear, but as a little token. A souvenir.
There stands she quite suddenly by his shoulder when he finishes his throw, arms crossed assessingly over her chest, a single eyebrow arched as only one pin falls.
If she's wearing a face very similar to the one he wore at her a minute ago, surely that's just coincidence. )
[ Eddie may or may not encourage her to smuggle the shoes out. You know, for moral support. He rebels by not wearing them at all, she can rebel by stealing them for a little souvenir. ]
What can I say? I worked hard to get where I am.
[ He knows sheās not seriously complimenting him. Thereās not exactly anything to compliment, but he grins and sweeps into a bow regardless. His poor bowling skills donāt exactly seem to bother him. ]
Iāll do one more so you can see how itās really done and then, uh, itās your turn to take on the master of the gutterball. āKay?
[ He collects his ball from the return while the pins reset. He approaches the line again, pulls his arm back, and this time, he really does get a gutterball. ]
( Okay. It's official. If she didn't already like him before, that good-humored bow firmly secures his place in her good books. He's funny. It's sweet. She's known him for ten minutes but if anything happened to him she'd kill everyone in this bowling alley and then herself.
The gutterball earns exactly two slow claps. Nailed it. Score.
The good news is, she's pretty sure she got the general idea of the whole thing.
The other good news is, she's stronger than the average person. Bowling balls don't really weigh all that much.
The other, other good news is that she has incredible aim.
All of this to say, when it's her turn and she steps up to the plate to fling that ball down the alley, every single one of those fucking pins goes down. Every single one. )
Is this the part where I say checkmate or something?
[ Eddie watches as Laura launches the ball, leaning slightly to the side to watch as every single last pin falls with a loud crash. He certainly expected that she would play a better game than his own, but that bar is in the lowest circle of hell. He wasnāt exactly expecting an immediate strike with, as far as he can tell, pretty excellent form. That ball was straight as an arrow and didnāt waver from its path once.
Heās not not proud of his role as Master of the Gutterball, but sheās really gonna wipe the floor with him and not even make it look like an accident. ]
Okay. Jesus Christ. I think you found your calling. Are you really gonna make me humiliate myself after that?
š lmao i think we can fade to black around here? extremely successful bowling trip.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
satanicpanics) wrote2025-05-14 05:18 pm
no subject
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
no subject
Okay, then.
It's a deal.
Bowling. Arcade. Ass kicking.
See you Saturday (:
no subject
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. Itās all bad enough to make him yearn for the Bellamy Brothers. ]
I already told you I was a shitty bowler. You didnāt 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 ā 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 Lauraās gesture to the woman behind the glass, then merely grins and wiggles his fingers at her in a wave. She doesnāt 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 heās 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. ]
Thisā
[ 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 isnāt exactly the paramount of arcade games, but itās always a fun one and Eddie racked up a lot of hours defending his high score from middle schoolers. And heās genuinely not willing to risk Laura beating his high score at Dragonās 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. Youāve 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 doesnāt 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. Iām 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. ]
Iāve done better, but uhā¦still wanna give it a shot?
no subject
( 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 ā
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.
no subject
Itās fine! Not everyone is an arcade master, and heās quick to replace his grimace with a self-satisfied smile by the time she turns around. ]
Wouldnāt 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.
no subject
( 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. )
no subject
[ Punctuated with a grin and a tilt of his head, because he feels comfortable talking a little shit if Laura is willing to critique her own gameplayā¦which was genuinely really badā¦Besides! Heās well aware that his bowling score is going to be even worse, so theyāre on even ground here. ]
Hey, Iām not arguing.
[ Hands behind his back, he tilts at he woman behind he counts again as they pass, following after Laura to collect their borrowed shoes. ]
Just, uh, donāt try to literally take me out with a fourteen pounder, ākay?
no subject
I make no promises.
( She has her pride to recover, after all.
They pick their shoes. Pick a lane. She takes her time swapping out her chucks for the battered brown ugly lane shoes, and while she's still working at the laces, jerks her head toward the pins. )
You go ahead, let me watch. Keep it consistent, right? I've never done this, either.
( Definitely not because victory will taste sweeter if she goes second. )
no subject
Keep it consistent. He snorts, looking highly doubtful, but he nods. ]
I mean, I make no promises, but alright. Just, uhā¦watch out.
[ Sheās absolutely about to sweep him in this one, but heās willing to put in his best attempt simply because sheās never played before. If heās lucky, very lucky, sheāll be even worse than he is. But he already knows that isnāt the case.
He selects his ball and approaches the line, rolls his arm back and lets the ball go. He doesnāt lose his grip on it or accidentally send it flying backward, thank god, but it drifts to the left as it rolls down the lane, only knocking own a single pin when it reaches the end. He squints and grimaces. ]
I meanā¦not even gonna lie to you, thatās kind of better than my usual.
no subject
There stands she quite suddenly by his shoulder when he finishes his throw, arms crossed assessingly over her chest, a single eyebrow arched as only one pin falls.
If she's wearing a face very similar to the one he wore at her a minute ago, surely that's just coincidence. )
Nice one.
( Literally. One. )
no subject
What can I say? I worked hard to get where I am.
[ He knows sheās not seriously complimenting him. Thereās not exactly anything to compliment, but he grins and sweeps into a bow regardless. His poor bowling skills donāt exactly seem to bother him. ]
Iāll do one more so you can see how itās really done and then, uh, itās your turn to take on the master of the gutterball. āKay?
[ He collects his ball from the return while the pins reset. He approaches the line again, pulls his arm back, and this time, he really does get a gutterball. ]
no subject
The gutterball earns exactly two slow claps. Nailed it. Score.
The good news is, she's pretty sure she got the general idea of the whole thing.
The other good news is, she's stronger than the average person. Bowling balls don't really weigh all that much.
The other, other good news is that she has incredible aim.
All of this to say, when it's her turn and she steps up to the plate to fling that ball down the alley, every single one of those fucking pins goes down. Every single one. )
Is this the part where I say checkmate or something?
no subject
[ Eddie watches as Laura launches the ball, leaning slightly to the side to watch as every single last pin falls with a loud crash. He certainly expected that she would play a better game than his own, but that bar is in the lowest circle of hell. He wasnāt exactly expecting an immediate strike with, as far as he can tell, pretty excellent form. That ball was straight as an arrow and didnāt waver from its path once.
Heās not not proud of his role as Master of the Gutterball, but sheās really gonna wipe the floor with him and not even make it look like an accident. ]
Okay. Jesus Christ. I think you found your calling. Are you really gonna make me humiliate myself after that?
š lmao i think we can fade to black around here? extremely successful bowling trip.
I guess not.
( This makes them even, anyway. They both got trounced at something, they both did some trouncing. All in all, she'd call this mission a success.
Instead, she nudges him lightly with an elbow and says: )
Come on, let's go get some food instead.
( Everybody wins with food. )