thebluewraith | meadowlark inbox

[Wade figured what Fenris was up to before he even let the ball fly-- the position of his legs and the determination on his face gave him away. Doesn't make it any less funny to see him utterly whip the ball into the hole with all the speed and force of a freight train. Wade's voice is strained in an attempt to hold back his laughter.]

...Might wanna go a little softer next time, Roger Clemens. You're not lookin' to break any world records here-- it's just a game of Skee-Ball. Look, see?

[He points up at the scoreboard, which is still displaying a big fat goose egg.]

I'd say you won points for scarin' the shit outta the machine, but maybe try to get the ball fully in the hole next time, yeah?

My name is Fenris.

[As his brusque correction indicates, he doesn't understand your references, Wade!!

He glares at the scoreboard as if it has the audacity to not give him any points, before he looks up at Wade and gestures to the infernal machine.]

Go.

[Now determined, he wants the other to take his turn so that he can properly study the apparently correct way to throw the stupid ball in the damned hole and apply that to his own game!

He is fully leaning into that competitiveness now.]

Just a joke, pal. You really need to loosen up a little, y'know?

[Wade saunters over to the machine and plucks up the ball, tossing it up in the air a few times.]

Seriously, that's probably why your game is off-- too much tension in the shoulders, or whatever. Probably good for cuttin' heads offa mooks, but not so much with games like these. Y'need a little less strength and a little more finesse, know what I'm sayin'?

[Wade doesn't give any warning, pivoting back on one foot and tossing the ball at the backboard. It sails perfectly into the 100 point hole, the scoreboard lighting up as it registers Wade's throw. Wade shrugs nonchalantly in response, but there's no mistaking the smug quirk of his lips.]

See? It's all in the wrist. Gotta keep that shit supple. Like the song about the deaf, dumb and blind kid bein' a pinball wizard. Forget what it's called.

Edited 2021-03-28 00:03 (UTC)

[Does he have to be so smug about it?

Never mind that, yet again, Fenris understands very little of what Wade is actually saying. The one thing he knows is that he's awfully proud of himself, and confident, and it's now up to him to take Wade down a peg. Yes, that's exactly it.

A good throw to be sure, but Fenris is certain he can follow up just as well. So he reaches for a ball and stares down the machine with the concentration of someone about to shoot an apple off of someone's head with a bow.

Naturally, he has to aim for the 100 point hole because he's not about to be shown up here. But this time he approaches it less...aggressively, once again taking his time to line up the shot but throwing with far less force. For a moment the ball looks as if it's going to bounce right back out, but it ends up settling right back in the hole.]

I hope you didn't expect this to be easy.

[Yes he's allowed to be cocky too now.]

...Ruh-roh.

[It comes out of his mouth almost involuntarily, a strangled sound of surprise, his eyes locked on the 100 point marker where Fenris's shot had disappeared into. A fluke, perhaps? Beginner's luck? Or maybe Fenris is just one hell of a fast learner.

Whatever it is, Wade feels his mouth twist upward in a delighted, savage sort of grin. This night definitely just got more interesting. His eyes flick over to Fenris, and he acknowledges his concession with the slightest of nods, sauntering over to grab another ball from the receptacle.]

Expect? Yes. Hope? Hell no.

[With a trained flick of his wrist, Wade sends the next ball sailing into the 100 marker hole.]

Let the games begin, my friend.

[Fenris allows himself to ride on the high of being smug as fuck, though when he catches a glimpse of that grin on Wade's face his gaze grows a little too intense for a friendly game. As if the other were about to engage him in an actual battle right here in the middle of this "arcade".

He watches the ball go right into the 100 marker and the fire in him only burns brighter. He can't settle for anything less.]

Impressive aim.

[Said in a way that's just impressed enough, but not too much, as he strides over to the receptacle and grabs another ball. His last throw wasn't perfect, and therefore could easily miss, so he changes his strategy a bit. Just a tweak so the ball doesn't bounce out of the hole. Though he makes a fatal error and miscalculates the changed force in his throw, causing the ball to instead end up in the 10 mark ring.]

Kaffas.

[He can't believe he missed!]

Edited 2021-04-08 01:31 (UTC)

[Wade watches the ball clatter into the 10 mark hole and if anything, his grin grows wider.]

I'm guessin' that's your way of sayin' "oopsie"? 'cause that definitely was a flub there, champ. How 'bout you step aside and watch an expert at work, yeah? You might actually learn something here.

[Unfortunately, the irony gods apparently aren't pleased by Wade's blatant showboating. When he winds up for another perfect throw, the ball seems to catch itself on his fingers during the initial launch, sailing awkwardly into the air towards the 5 point marker. Wade's humiliation isn't even finished there. He stands there, frozen in place, unable to look away as the ball then bounces off the rubber ring around the hole and roll flaccidly into the dumping trench at the bottom of the board. Zero points.]

...fuck a duck.

[Oh, the sweet taste of poetic justice. Watching the ball's anticlimactic journey that ultimately ends up not even reaching the 5 point hole mark after such a display of bravado forces a good chuckle out of Fenris, genuine amusement underneath the smug way his lips curl into a smirk.]

And, if I had to guess, I would believe that is your way of saying..."oopsie"?

[See what he did there, fucker?]

Edited 2021-04-14 16:17 (UTC)

[Wade knows he should be annoyed at this. He should be salty at the fact that he was completely cockblocked at his most triumphant moment, and then verbally ground into the dirt by some upstart Lothlórien reject. But somehow, for whatever reason, he can't find himself to be chagrined. Wade feels his own mouth twist upwards in a grin, his voice strained with the effort of keeping himself from laughing-- an attempt that, while valiant, is ultimately futile.]

H-How... pfffahahaha-- How 'bout you stop talkin' and start tossin', fuckface? You can't get points from runnin' yer mouth.

[Let the games begin.]

If that were true, I would be at a terrible disadvantage.

[Because you talk too much.

At any rate, the game becomes quite competitive — or maybe it's mostly Fenris, who knows. The points go high, low, then high again, as they each have their mishaps as well as their incredible shots. Eventually, once the game has been going for a while, Fenris has a thought as he checks the scoreboard. It's his turn and he's poised and ready to toss the ball, but instead he turns back to Wade with a quirk of his brow.]

...How do we know when there is a victor to this game?

[Wade's nothing if not competitive himself-- he'll be damned if he's gonna let this pointy-eared upstart block his shine-- but there's a secret part of him that feels he wouldn't feel all that put out if he did lose. Fenris's face remains as neutral as ever to the untrained eye, but there's something different about his demeanor now, a fire in his eyes that wasn't there before. It makes the game much less a power struggle and more of a friendly-- yet still rivalrous-- affair.

Wade's riding high on yet another 100 point sink, and so he doesn't really register Fenris's question until the man stops and looks at him. Flicking his eyes up to the scoreboard, Wade sees the utterly absurd number flash across the screen-- 1130-- seconds before the timer runs out with a cheerful jingle of sound. As he watches the tickets pour out of the receptacle, Wade buries his head in one hand, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.]

We fucking forgot to make it two-player...

[Fenris' gaze falls to the tickets shooting out of the slots as well, then to Wade as he watches the other nearly fall apart. His brows shoot up, attention flickering back to the screen—]

What!

[But he was winning! Wasn't he? The elf heaves a heavy sigh before cradling his head in his hand.]

Isn't this supposed to be a game you're familiar with?

[The judging stare he levels at Wade would probably be harsher if he didn't maybe possible look somewhat kind of amused.]

[Wade's too immersed in the hilarity of the moment to really register Fenris's annoyed disbelief. The irony of such an anticlimactic outcome is just too perfect, like the lead-up to a punchline in a sitcom. When he finally gets control of himself enough to speak again, it's in a voice still choked with laughter.]

It's not my fault! You got all competitive right at the start-- got me too focused on stylin' all over your ass.

[He huffs out another chuckle and shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders.]

Ah, well. Guess we'll just have to call this a draw.

[Fenris scoffs — how dare Wade put the blame on him! Bastard.]

For now.

[He doesn't even catch the implication he puts forth that there's going to be a next time for him to kick Wade's ass. He just knows that he can't let this "draw" stand for long...

One more huff before he gestures at the tickets dangling from the slot.]

What are these things supposed to be anyway?

[Wade raises his arms in an exaggerated and comical shrug, sporting a grin that would put Alfred E. Newman to shame. He's kind of surprised to find that he's not really all that put out by the outcome-- as fiercely competitive as they both were, it really was the perfect way to end their first real game of Skee-Ball together. The real win, of course, was getting Fenris to drop that dour demeanor, even if only for a moment.

He walks over to the ticket receptacle, tearing them away with a swift jerk of his hand. There's a large amount there, and he nods with approval before making his way over to Fenris.]

These bad boys right here are the real reason we're here. You rack up enough of these, you can trade 'em in for some pretty snazzy prizes.

[Admittedly, Fenris hasn't felt this loose in...a very long time, but it's not as if he's acknowledging it either. Easy to tell himself that he is stubborn and competitive and absolutely could not allow himself to be bested by this silly man.

He regards the tickets, wondering why little pieces of paper would ever earn them prizes, but remembers that nothing about this world makes sense to him anyway and so he won't dwell on it any longer.]

These prizes wouldn't happen to be sharp and deadly, would they?

[Daggers are legitimate prizes shut up.]

[Wade's busy sifting the large amounts of tickets through his fingers, silently counting them under his breath. Definitely quite the impressive haul, which he supposes is good enough reward for being a dumbass and forgetting to make it a co-op. He looks up at Fenris's question, his brow furrowed as if giving it some considerable thought.]

Well I mean it might be deadly for, like... a baby, but...

[He shrugs.]

[What a same. He would like some weapons, thank you very much, New Amsterdam. A dart will only get him so far — though he appreciates the fact that he has it, at least.]

So, too dangerous for you to handle, then. Understood.

[Said with a trace of a smirk as he glances about for where they may acquire these "prizes", as if ending the conversation on that little note. ~~As if he could ever control a conversation with Wade, he talks too much.~~]

[The retort is so unexpected it takes a good few seconds for Wade to process what Fenris has just said, but when it finally registers Wade lets loose with a loud, surprised shout of laughter.]

You motherfucker did you just make a joke at my expense?!

[Don't mistake his offended tone for being genuine, Fenris. He's not-so-secretly delighted.]

[ Something about Wade's horrendously loud bout of laughter tickles at Fenris' funny bone, causing his smirk to strain in an attempt to prevent a dreaded smile from forming. By the time he returns his gaze to Wade he has it mostly under control. And he can't resist the quirk of his brow. ]

Do I look like I make jokes?

[It's like coming upon a fawn in the woods, that smile. A quick hint of something rare and precious and adorable before it slips back into the shadows from whence it came. It causes Wade's already heightened mood to soar ever higher, and he points his finger mock-accusingly at the elf.]

You look like a fuckin' sharpshooter, that's what you look like. I see your game now-- lull people into a false sense of security with your little edgelord act, and then immediately snipe 'em with a laser-accurate joke outta nowhere. You ain't as slick as you think you are, pally.

[Wade flashes him an appreciative grin before turning his direction to the prizes in the display case.]

See anything you like? Got my eye on that ring down there, myself.

[He taps an area of the case, beneath which a small black ring is nestled.]

[ Fenris snorts, making a note to himself to ask Wade what a — what, a lord of edge, is exactly? For now, though, he examines the so-called prizes available to them. A lot of them were downright silly, but he supposes it's expected, seeing as this place seems largely catered towards children. ~~Like Wade.~~

The ring looks...intriguing? Fenris isn't much for rings, though — the markings on his fingers are especially sensitive.]

Strange.

[ He doesn't say it to anything in particular. There are just so many weird things. The small doll with the crazy hair, the fake mustache — something does inevitably stand out to him, though. A bright blue, glowing tube with a cord weaved through a plastic ring on top. Maybe it's because of the irony, or the fact that it's the only thing here that seems familiar, but he can't help but want it.

He points. ]

What do you call that?

[For a second, Wade thinks he's pointing at the troll doll, and is about to eagerly weave up some bullshit about how they're magic totems used to ward off the nightmares of children-- but he deflates a little after noticing what Fenris is actually pointing at.]

The glowstick? Surprised they make those anymore-- they were more of a 90s thing. You used to see 'em being sold in state fairs and carnivals and stuff. I think they still use industrial ones for, like... mining excursions or whatever.

There's some kinda liquid in there that makes it glow-- not really sure how it works. I only know you're not supposed to drink it. N-not from personal experience, of course.

Mining excursions, [ he mumbles thoughtfully, immediately making the connection to the lyrium being carefully mined, lighting up the darkest caves with its luminous glow. There are so many shades of irony to everything Wade just said that it would take way too long to explain — not that he wants to — the pull of familiarity to this novelty item. Not exactly the most positive connotations. Just familiar.

He gives a small nod of his head.]

I want that one. [ He spares Wade a glance. ] No drinking.

I DIDN'T EVEN SAY IT WAS M-- y'know what? Whatever.

[Wade hands the tickets over to the vendor, who ducks briefly behind the counter and reappears with the prizes. Plucking the ring from the vendor's hand, Wade slips the ring on his finger, smiling with delight and satisfaction when the stone set in it immediately turns a deep shade of purple.]

Oh sweet, it does work!

[He briefly looks up from admiring his prize at the glowstick the man is still holding out in his other hand.]

Looks like that comes as a necklace, Fen. That's good-- a lot harder to lose that way.

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