Nine Purple Files

[proudambassador]

The high scores on the games of chance here, in this Wilderness, I have beaten. The shooting games I am decent at, but the others, I find I do not understand them. Why would one dodge a monkey throwing barrels? Why would aliens attack in neat little rows so you can shoot them? One defender, they could not fight that many, no.

A more important question, why is there no alcohol here? Surely, if you are fighting monkeys, or pushing buttons to fight, to enjoy it you must be a little tipsy, hm? Rum. That, it goes well with Coke, no? And there is much Coke here.

I will pay someone to bring rum down here. And then, we may share it and play, yes?

Comments

Re: Quicklog

[crimsonmischief]

[Grey eyes traveled over the arcade as Crimson mixed their drinks, handing one glass over to Ambassador before spotting one that looked interesting.]

How about that one~?

[He was pointing to a racing game. Did he know how to drive? Nope. Did he know what driving was? Debatable.

Quicklog

[proudambassador.livejournal.com]

[Accepting the drink, Ambassador looked at where Crimson was pointing.]

Yes! Let us try that!

[He'd not done many of the sit-in-and-steer games. They gave him an odd feeling, like he'd once done something similar and yet not at all like driving whatever a Formula 500 was. And the motorcycle racer bothered him even more. It was also harder, since you had to balance just a bit.

Taking a seat, Ambassador nodded to the seat and wheel next to him.]

Now. To race each other instead of just the machine, we must do this at the same time, or close to the same time, yes? The one pedal, I am forgetting which, speeds up, and the other stops. Do not ask why there is one that stops when it is a race. Myself, I do not know. And no one I have asked knows either.

[After a teensy bit of trial and error, Ambassador managed to select the easy course and a car that didn't look entirely ridiculous.]

It will count down from three, hm? And then, you go.

Quicklog

[crimsonmischief]

Oh, I see!

[Crimson copied Ambassador's movements, except he seemed to have much more fun pressing the glowing buttons to choose a car, one that did look entirely ridiculous. Well, at least he'd passed up on the bright pink one. A couple more taps later, he chose the same course as his friend and hit the green button before turning to face Ambassador.]

Ready~!

Re: Quicklog

[proudambassador.livejournal.com]

No, no, my good Mr. Crimson, do not tell me. It counts--

[Before Ambassador could explain, the game loudly declared "THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!" Ambassador promptly slammed down on a pedal. It turned out to be the wrong one, so he swapped feet and was off. Aside from the late start, he was surprisingly (to himself) good at steering and weaving in and out.]

This would be better if it was in space! Then, then you would not be trapped behind since you can go over or under!

[And that was another odd ping. Racing in space? No, that didn't feel right. But something related to this. Maybe he'd flown, once.]

Re: Quicklog

[crimsonmischief]

Ah!

[Brakes were pesky little things, but Crimson managed to find the gas pedal before Ambassador's car got too far ahead of his own, and he speedily caught up to it, weaving behind in an effort to get past with cones on either side of them, delineating the lane.

Well, this would never do...

Grey eyes narrowed at the screen before he veered off to the side, then stomped down hard on the speed pedal, zooming forward and ramming into the back corner of Ambassador's car.]

Quicklog

[proudambassador.livejournal.com]

So you are aggressive, hmm?

[He could see the way the car tried to spin out of control what Crimson had done. It was a smart move, but odd reflexes were kicking in to keep Ambassador on course.]

Myself, I am not that easy to spin, no. Do your worst.

[That was the pride talking, and Ambassador knew it. Up ahead were two cars he was going to have to figure a way around, and with Crimson flanking him he wasn't sure he could manage it. The grass would slow him down too much. Maybe, just maybe he could fit between, but he wasn't sure of it.]

Quicklog

[crimsonmischief]

[Crimson grinned in response.]

It was worth a try. You drive well, Ambassador-san~!

[An interesting tidbit to store away. But for now... Perhaps one of the other cars would spin out easier than Ambassador? It was worth a try, what was the worse that could happen?]

Quicklog

[proudambassador.livejournal.com]

As do you! I am not sure, myself, that I have done a road before, no.

[Ambassador tried for passing through the middle, winding up instead hitting the two cars. That wouldn't work. Maybe on the upcoming turn he could stick the nose of his vehicle in a little bit, get an edge. Crimson likely had some plan, but Ambassador had no idea what it was. He went for it and still didn't manage to get past.]

Quicklog

[crimsonmischief]

[The computer, it seemed, did not drive as well as Ambassador and the next car Crimson hit spun out, giving him room to edge past. Except that car had been in one of the outer lanes, alas. It seemed like he'd just have to edge his way towards the inner lanes in order to win.]

Not a road? Then where else would you drive?

Quicklog

[proudambassador.livejournal.com]

[When the car spun out, it nearly hit Ambassador, causing him to slow down for just a minute to avoid being hit. No matter how short a time that had been, it gave Crimson a slight lead now. He aimed for the inner lane as the finish line neared, hoping for the win anyway.]

I, my dear Crimson, am not human. Myself, I am alien. Space! That is where I am from, and that, perhaps, is where I have operated a machine like this before.

Quicklog

[crimsonmischief]

Ah, I hadn't known that~!

[He did his best to follow the outside lane, pedal pressed to the floor of the machine as he slowly tried to make his way towards the middle of the track.]

That's quite interesting~!