bakerstreet | Where a kid can be a kid...or something

The Discovery Zone / Chuck E. Cheese's / Arcade Meme

If you were a kid during the 80s or 90s, I don't have to explain. Everyone remembers those meccas of fun that were awesome, yet somehow still smelled vaguely of stale pizza and shame. Whether you're hanging out in the tubes, jumping in the moon bounce, or shooting some hoops, you're sure to have a blast.

Well, even if you don't, it's not like you can leave. As big as this place is, there seems to be no door. So you might as well just sit back and win some tickets.

HOW TO PLAY:
1. Comment with your characters.
2. Others will reply, rolling the RNG for the scenario.
3. Have shenanigans. Feel free to make wacky crossovers, since you're all stuck in here together.

SCENARIOS:
1. The slide
2. Ball pit
3. Climbing wall
4. Moon bounce
5. The tubes
6. The little viewing bubble
7. Skeeball
8. Hoop shooting
9. Arcade games
10. The claw machine
11. Laser tag
12. Harassing the poor guy in the mascot suit
13. It's your birthday party!
14. For some reason, you work here.
15. Wildcard

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Rufus on the other hand is far too involved with this battle of the wits and doing his utmost to grab hold of that Moogle to give Cloud too much attention. The metal claw moves slowly, creeping along as a hunter after its prey. His fingers are barely pushing on the control handle to get to that exact point that his mind has made up in order to pounce the stuffed toy.

Breath comes short and the button is pressed letting the arm fall and snap. That red pom pom will not rue the day it was left in the open for now it has been bitten.

But what is this? The plush isn't moving. It's stuck, again strategically he thinks, and the metal arm is doing nothing but tugging at the bouncing red ball that had become his bane.

Then it happens, some ancient and clearly against him changing the game. The claw comes loose with no toy attached. Both lip and eyebrows sink, a curse shot at the infernal machine.

It's a cheating bastard and he knows it.

Yet two can play at that game. He looks about before stepping close to the machine and wrapping his arms around it. If he can't pick it up, then he will shake it loose from those other toys. No rules on cheating on cheating right?]

You, solider. Keep watch for employees.

[That's right cloud, you're now part of this crime whether you like it or not.]

[ It is utterly impossible to be as invested in this, from the outside, as Rufus currently is, so Cloud doesn't even really try. Of all the things that he never manages to pick up on, every once in a while he's very aware of how little attention he's being paid.

It's part of the job, though -- being human wallpaper and all -- so his pride's not too deeply wounded.

And at any rate, he's determined to be the best wallpaper he possibly can, muttering yet another "Nice try, sir," as he watches the pompom slip free of the clumsy metal cage that is its wannabe captor. Again.

But wait. Something's different, this time. Rather than returning to his obsessive repetition, Rufus... Starts hugging the machine, instead?

As he's addressed, Cloud snaps to attention, though it's not like he really has to, in the wake of his surprise. He turns his back on the weirdest thing he's seen, today, and scans the crowd hastily for anybody who looks like they might be as curious as he is about what, exactly, Rufus is up to.

Like, I don't know, that security guard who's glancing casually over here as he passes through the crowds on his rounds (wearing a bored expression Cloud recognizes so well that he almost forgets to be alarmed for a second). ]

Uh, sir? You might want to hurry up.

[It's almost loose of the terrible green thorny grasp of that Cactuar. So. Very. Close. There should be some sort of sudden realization as the amount of pride being destroyed right now; say being a grown man trying to win a plush toy to nearly violently shaking the machine.]

I'm not leaving until I win that Moogle.

[Those are eight words no man should utter as seriously as Rufus just did. It's not longer about flashing that prize around. Oh no, it's personal now. He's got a vendetta and tokens to avenge. This is the sort of thing books are written about, tales of heroes seeking retribution for the loss of love.

He does love money, so it still counts.]

Cursive machine.

[His arms give it one last shake trying to set the Moogle free. Low and behold, it does causing it to tumble forward free from the evil (strategically evil) grasp of the Cactuar. But what is this? Where is it tumbling to?

No. Not there. Yet of course it rolls there, the ground zero of all crane games where not even the most steady hand can pick from.

The corner.]

Solider.

[His voice remains calm, trademark tranquil and calculating.]

I require more tokens.

[This battle has only but began and he's going to need all your cheer-leading skills Cloud.]

[ Oh good God

And here Cloud has only just been overcome with relief as the security guard's vaguely interested gaze is distracted by the far more important infraction posed by a couple of kids racing around him at potentially dangerous speeds. Bye-bye, see you later, now back to--

Oh. Right. This.

Resisting the great and terrible rise of an incredibly weary sigh that threatens just under the surface, Cloud tries to sound at least passingly enthusiastic as he responds. ]

Yes, sir.

[ He manages basically mechanical, again, instead, as he pivots right on a heel and makes yet another trip to the nearest token dispenser. At least the Company's footing the bill, on this one -- though he doesn't fancy having to explain any expense reports, and he definitely doesn't expect Rufus will corroborate his story in any way, if he tries to elaborate upon the Great Moogle Hunt of XXXX.

Oh well. No use fighting it. Now -- how many more tokens to get? He supposes if he goes for the highest amount, it could look like an insult (will it really take him that many?). But the lowest could come across the wrong way, too, couldn't it? (He's not trying to be cheap.)

Taking too long probably isn't going to earn him any points, either, though, as Rufus jealously guards his machine, so he jabs a button for one of the middle amounts without putting in much more thought. Retrieving his card and shoveling the tokens out carefully into the tail of his uniform shirt (pockets full with the tickets he's also carrying, already), he hurries back.

With the renewed resolve that he'll never complain about plain old, standing around guard duty being boring, again. That's for sure. ]

[It's round six now and the metaphorical punches are flying from machine to man and man to machine. Teeth bite into his lip as he pours his concentration into the task at hand. This will be one for the records; the battle carried down through mouth and written in books on how one glorious day man triumphed over a dastardly machine.

History in the making here Cloud and you're part of it. The metal arm disagrees this round and doesn't fit into the corner as needed. The time limit clocks out and the claw drops picking up nothing in its return.]

I require a token.

[He's not sorry for no looking and asking, as a rich brat he believes himself entitled to token handing. With one in hand, he plays; nay, fights once more.

And again. Twice. Thrice- it's been ten rounds with this machine, clearly an intelligent one planning it's uprising at any day. Rufus will not have that, he will put this trashcan where it belongs; underneath him.]

I have it.

[That's right, the Moogle is his now and the corner beaten. It's puffy right arm is held by the metal claw. There's a band playing, something suiting and uplifting in his mind. Rue this day machine, rue it for Rufus Shinra has just beat you and your corners.

Until it decides to jolt. Rufus' eyes narrow and his hand firmly grasp the handle. The Moogle is loose, but not fallen. All he has to do is drag it back slowly. The battle is over, this is only pushing the enemy into retreat.]

Careful.

[It's under his breath and commanding to himself.]

Victory will be mine and that toy the spoil of this battle.

[He may or may not realize that he is speaking his mind, but who would dare correct him?]

[ At this point, Rufus, he's really hoping that Moogle is like stuffed with materia or gil or is, in fact, a real live Moogle just conveniently playing dead.

Because nothing else could possibly justify the intensity of the passion presently being put toward its capture.

He certainly doesn't balk when action is demanded of him, though, all misgivings aside. He's just an infantry grunt; he's used to not being asked for anything (or really acknowledged at all, unless he's done something wrong), and he complies at once.

Cloud's still kind of rooting for him, anyway. (Honestly, it's getting a little sad.) Maybe running back and forth was enough of a stretch to improve his own mood a little, if not Rufus's.

Oh, hey, and would you look at that. Now seems like an appropriate time to resume his unenthusiastic cheerleading, but as it is, he wouldn't dare interrupt that stirring monologue on the spoils of war Rufus seems to be working up to.

Best to stand back and wait, before deciding whether another "Nice try, sir" or actual congratulations are in order. ]

Where a kid can be a kid...or something

but it was a good hurt right? laughing makes it a good hurt like a funny bone

oh man but isn't slamming your ulnar nerve on something the least funny kind of hurt

ngl, I had to look ulnar nerve up. I should probably know that

it's okay, it's the one thing I do know about human anatomy. because I bash mine into stuff so often

I, sadly, only know a great deal about pseudo sciences that aren't real or have no practical use

It is a noble and celebrated field of study