ArchivedLogs:Arcade Rats

Arcade Rats
Dramatis Personae Doug, Eric
In Absentia	2013-03-03 Doug gets his turn on the bike.
Location <NYC> The Batcave - Meatpacking District
Nestled in a basement of the meatpacking district, a hybrid of arcade and cybercafe, the Batcave is far more sociable a place than its name would suggest. Filled at all hours of day with the beeps and music and explosions of a myriad of arcade games, as well as the laughter and conversation (and curses) to go with it, the dark theme in decor is broken up by the bright lights of their game machines. One corner of the establishment is a perpetual LAN party with a projector screen-equipped lounge area for spectators. Along the opposite wall, a counter serves soft drinks and greasy junk food, and off in the back a door leads to what is by far the larger part of the establishment: a fully-equipped laser tag arena. There are worse places to be for a computer nerd than a brightly-lit arcade. But there are few better places to /be/. Doug seems well at home in the Batcave, dressed similarly to his fellow video game addicts in jeans and a snug-fitting black t-shirt that has 'It's dangerous to go alone -- take this!' printed across the front, with an 8-bit image of Luke Skywalker holding his lightsaber above his head. Currently, he's wailing the crap out of a strange-looking game with a cartoon blue bird and the title FLICKY running down the side. The game chirps and whistles in bird-like fashion as the blonde slams the joystick back and forth, slapping his fingers on the solo trigger button to the side. A couple of teenagers, younger than Doug, stand by, watching the gameplay with the same hybrid look of awe and boredom that only teenagers can muster. When Eric enters the room, he glances around the room. He, perhaps, does not look like many of the other occupants as he strides over to change some money into tokens for the machines. Dressed in a black T-shirt that hugs to his chest and a dark pair of jeans stitched in white thread with a studded belt, he smirks and winks playfully at one of the passing college students. Much to the chagrin of their date, to be sure. He steps over to one of the Time Crisis machines and inserts the requisite number of tokens. He draws the pistol and points it down towards the ground, finger outside of the trigger guard. Always practice good trigger discipline, even with fake guns, kids. Chirps and whistles die off as Doug eventually is bested by Flicky, and he steps back with a sheepish look at his audience. They, for their part, mutter approval before they swoop on the abandoned machine, each boasting that he will best the score just left. Doug grins, and shakes his head as he wanders through the machines, narrowing his eyes at the blushing frat guy who passes him with his irritated-looking date. Passing the Time Crisis machines, he pauses as he spies a familiar-looking figure, and turns. It might be a moment before he actually speaks, preferring to enjoy the view a bit, first. "Hey, Officer Eric," he says cheerfully, stepping forward and leaning against the game cabinet, within view but not distractingly so. "I wouldn't have pegged you for an arcade rat." Eric presses the pedal to duck him behind cover while he glances and looks at - and over - Doug. "Heya. Who said I am?" he says, turning back to the screen. He is mercilessly efficient at slaughtering the enemies on the screen, though whether this is a reflection of practice with the real thing or practice with the game remains to be seen. "Been here a couple times before. Cheap beer." he says, with a growing smirk and a playful wink. Doug, to his credit, doesn't blush at the flagrant looking-over. Instead, he lifts a shoulder, craning his head to watch the wholesale chaos Eric is unleashing on his electronic enemies. "If you've been here more than twice, you're officially an arcade rat," he says with sage wisdom. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Some of my best games have been with rats." He grins, and wrinkles his nose playfully. "I've never understood drinking while video gaming," he says without censure. "It seems like that would make it more frustrating." His grin slips to one side, and he looks in the direction of the long-fled frattie. "Or are you more about the gam/ers/?" "There ya' go." Eric drawls, eyes twinkling, though he does not turn his eyes away from the game. He chuckles, shaking his head, and taking a quick hiss of breath in as his avatar takes a hit. "The laser tag is fun when you're a little sloshed. I wouldn't be playin' this when I was three or four beers in, but..." he shrugs his shoulders, with a quick glance over towards Doug. "Last time I came here, I ha' better things to be doing three or four beers in than play Time Crisis." he says, a sultry purr in his voice. "I like laser tag," Doug says. "When it's team play. Those open-kill games are a bit too OK Corral for my liking." He grins, and tilts his head. "Maybe I wasn't drunk enough." He watches the hit, and scrunches his face sympathetically as he looks back at the older man. "Something tells me that's never far from your mind, no matter how many beers you've had." Then he's looking down, towards Eric's foot. "Did you have any more trouble with your ankle?" "Yeah. And half the time, the sensors don't even work." Eric says, shrugging his shoulders, non-committal. He takes a second hit, but manages to get to the level boundary. Of course, being Time Crisis, this is as good a place as ever to beg for more tokens, and he puts the gun back in the center console to turn to look over Doug once more, slower. "Perhaps it's not. I know what I like." he says, winking. "A day or so of rest, and I was back out on the bike. It wasn't as bad as it could ha' been. Thanks to you." he says, with a warm, bright smile. Doug /does/ blush, with this scrutiny, and he bumps his head against the cabinet. "Must be nice, to be so decisive," he teases. "I'm still working on my Likes page." He nods at the news on Eric's ankle, and shrugs. "I was happy to help," he says. "It's not often I can say I brought home a cop and played doctor." His pauses, then, color flooding into his face before he slaps a hand over his eyes and groans. "I can't believe I just said that." Eric's smirk widens, and he raises an eyebrow, winking playfully at Doug. He takes a step, almost experimentally, forward, towards the other man, though he does not take any others. "I can't believe ya' said that either. D'ya take people home to play doctor a lot, just not police?" he drawls, with another playful wink. "Should I be offended that you only bandaged up my ankle?" he says, southern drawl thickening slightly. Oh, gosh. Doug blinks as Eric steps forward, and shakes his head. "Oh, um. I actually haven't..." he blushes, and looks away, towards the LAN group, and back. "...had any patients, before." That's a pretty big admission, and the blonde looks like he'd very much like a big, strong drink after saying it. The question, playful as it is, gets another blush. "Well, that was the only part of you that needed it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip and closing one eye. It's not exactly a wink; just a careful closing. "Should I be offended you didn't ask?" "I see." Eric's eyes sweep over the other man, a spark of hunger showing rather plainly in them. "My ankle was hurting, and it wouldn't'a been rig'. Doctors and patients and all that." he says, smirking. "Would'ya like it if I asked'ya now?" he says, head tilting to one side. "I'm not sure I'm all that good of a first patient. Fair warning." he says, raising one hand and not taking his eyes off of the other man's. "It /is/ a sacred trust," Doug says, the bite of his lip tightening at finding himself on the menu. "Doctors and patients. I probably would have gotten reported to the Fake AMA or something." The question earns a visible swallow, and Doug releases his bottom lip to purse his lips thoughtfully at Eric. "I'd like it," he admits, with a lift of his eyebrows for the warning. "But I'd probably regret it." His gaze turns thoughtful as he looks over the older man. "Maybe." Eric takes another step closer, definitely entering into the other man's personal space. "Not sayin' you won't." A pause. "You still want'a play some more video games, or should we get out of here?" he says, leaning forward so that his breath curls warmly against the other man's ear for a moment. He takes a step, then a second, back, giving the other man space to respond without getting pressed into the side of the video game console. The wide-eyed look of one of the children from the video game SURE that they were about to see bloody combat might have entered into it as well. Doug swallows again when Eric presses his advantage, and meets his gaze with an uncertain hunger of his own. "Oh, um. I have an X-Box at my place," he says. "If you want to check it out." There's something flashing though his eyes as he considers this one last time. "You're not a pervert, are you? Not into anything extra weird?" "I'd love to check it out." Eric says, smirking. One eyebrow raises, smoothly, smirking. "Extra weird? Not particularly. But... we can talk more about that over your... X-Box. Lead the way." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tokens that he had changed out earlier, and places them on the game next to him. One glance to the kids watching the two of them, then he turns his attention back to Doug, on their way out of the arcade.