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]

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~!